Sunday School bang
Went to Sunday School at age 8 with a lad called Johnny. From the first day I saw him, running through the primary school gates away from his mother and straight into the girls' loos to a crescendo of screams, I thought here was a kid who definitely needed the fear of God putting into him. Sadly, Johnny viewed the situation differently.
On the day in question, Johnny and I had done the obligatory colouring in of Jesus or the Good Samaritan or someone and then had to attend the service with the adults. Sat up at the front, he nudged me and pulled a small pile of white paper packages out of his pocket. These were bangers and the small paper wraps contained the same 'explosive' substance as cap gun strips, only in powder form. I watched in horror as he carefully unwrapped each tiny package into his open hymn book, one after the other. Then, on the last organ note of the final hymn, he slammed shut the hymn book with an almighty (no pun intended) boom and ran giggling out of the chapel, straight home, leaving the local village churchgoers terrified.
He still lives in the same village where we grew up and according to my dad, is still 'a wrong un' although these days his pyrotechnic misdemenours include buying the local pub and allegedly torching it for the insurance money.
(Mr McKenzie Mr McKenzie, Sun 4 Sep 2011, 16:07, 2 replies)

I feel like the title of this piece has raised expectations
that have not been met by the story.

This is probably a sign that I've spent too much time surfing porn sites.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Sun 4 Sep 2011, 20:15, closed)

Raised expectations
Sorry about that, I´ve led a sheltered life.
(Mr McKenzie Mr McKenzie, Mon 5 Sep 2011, 20:49, closed)