Cock-a-doodle-doo
There were a prize collection of oxygen thieves at my secondary school, many of whom prided themselves on being either Marxist (and seeing anyone who wasn't as a Fascist and hence abusing them) or part of the rugby team.

Ron (not his real name) was part of the rugby team. I doubt he could spell Marxism. Bull necked, thick limbed, small brained, he was a natural battering ram that came into his own on the rugby pitch. He meted out swift punishment to anyone whom he felt didn't deserve his respect - pretty much anyone who wasn't on the rugby team or who didn't have boobs. He was an arse, picking on kids of all ages and generally being abusive.

It all ended one day though. He didn't appear in school on a Monday or Tuesday one week, but eventually showed up on Wednesday. No one knew why. Then it came out. He had been having a wank over the weekend to some no doubt filthy grot and had become so excited that at the moment of enspurtation he had torn his foreskin. He had apparently fled downstairs, bleeding and spunk covered cock in hand, to his mother, who had driven him to hospital.

How did we find out? He had told one of his 'mates' on the rugby team who had then told everyone. He could never bully again as every time he tried the intended victim would make wanking gestures and he'd shuffle off.
(Zapiola zip-zap-zop, Tue 19 May 2009, 1:02, Reply)