Lots of minor incidents to make up for the lack of legendary fights. (This is a long one!)
We were always having fights* at my old school** as we were easily bored and it was part of the culture. Sometimes, they were incorporated into our games; good old British Bulldog usually degenerated into a massive punch-up in the playground, made even more exciting and eventful if there was a lot of ice on the ground. We also had a highly original game where everyone stood around in a circle, some poor sod got pushed into the middle and then we'd kick the shit out of him. Great fun. During moments of extreme boredom during the interminable lunch hours, trying to stay on the right side of that loud lispy twat Mr. Ruscoe-Price (who'd periodically kick us out to face the mercy of the endless wind and rain that howled through straight from Siberia) we'd play a fun game where someone would should 'GET (say) ALEC!!', whereupon everyone with a free hand would descend upon Alec and enthusiastically beat him up in a friendly sort of way. (I can distinctly remember someone being got with one of screechy girls' leather jackets**** wrapped over his head like some sort of perfumed gimp-mask... gave me the right fackin' horn, did that!)

But the most memorable (and best) moments of violence at my old school occurred during Year 11 (the last compulsory year), when we were just old enough for the little shits further down the school to start causing us serious aggravation.

Early on, there was this fat ginger cocksucker called TJ (one of his parents was American) in the form-room opposite ours; he was an arrogant little cunt, and often got his little mates to put the wind up us by e.g. shoving open our form-room door, squealing "Geeks! Geeks!" at the top of their as-yet-unbroken voices, and running away as fast as their little legs could carry them. He'd often try to start fights with us and get seriously laughed at. Even his form teacher (who taught us P.E.) thought he was a little shit. One morning, as I was walking towards the form room, TJ was starting on my classmate Norf (who turned into a total dickhead later on, but anyway...) I walked up to TJ and gave him the most forceful backhander I'd delivered for many a year, much to Norf's amusement. TJ - now sulky and disgruntled - mooched towards his own form-room, saying "Huh... you're just a- a- a SLAPPER!!" "Fuck off," I wearily replied, half-heartedly shoving him towards his own room; he chucked an almighty strop and started trying to attack me. "No-one pushes TJ!!!" he squealed (wanting to snarl), but I was already through the door....

Some years before (when I was about 10), I had lived just up the road from another fat little twunt called Toby (who was not ginger.) I was two years older than him, and even at that age he could be really bloody annoying. I would often play with him outside; he'd be allright for most of the time, then for some reason he'd start annoying me (I forget how exactly) and run away, taunting all the while. Due to my superior speed, age etc. I was always able to catch up with him (sooner or later) and boot him in the shins. He'd then run off home crying, and I'd retreat back into the house, practically shitting bricks for the next half-hour. And so it continued until he moved away. For some reason, I was never once told off for it (probably because he was too much of a wimp to tell his mum who'd really booted him in the shins.) Anyway, the point is: a few years later, he started going to the same secondary school as I did (he'd gone to a different primary school) Due to the way the school was structured, he and his little mates didn't become a real pain till Year 11, when they started annoying us in that same general way. Of course, we got a royal bollocking if we retaliated in any way; the usual stuff about "privileges", "power dynamics" etc. The only effect this had was to make any successful retaliations seem even more hard-earned. One day a whole load of us managed to catch him running away, and dragged him back to the hut (one of our form-rooms was in a mobile hut), kicking and screaming. My mate Seamus***** (who called him the Human Testicle) started shouting "Dance bitch, dance!!!" at him, and we all took the opportunity to put the boot in a bit before (reluctantly) letting him go. Of course, he squealed straightaway, but by that time we were developing thick skins to all the tellings-off. He still continued annoying me for the next two years (he'd somehow convinced himself and anyone who would listen that he used to boot me in the shins all those years ago), and tried intimidating me (despite being a foot shorter than me and twice as chubby) - he usually wound up haring it away and yelling "I'm not scared of you!!". There's no way of concisely getting across his total and utter cuntishness, so I can only say I hope he's now in prison, acting as a surrogate girlfriend to someone called Tyrone.

Oh well, that lot didn't go anywhere, did it? Yeah, yeah, yeah - apologies for crapness, etc. Length? James Joyce never apologised....

* Scraps really, there were rarely full-on fights.
** The best*** comprehensive in Ipswich, which really is not saying much.
*** ie. it had a lot of detached houses in its cachment area.
**** Screechy because they spent most of the time outside classes doing seagull impressions (at least one day out of five) and erupting into high-pitched screaming laughter. Really.
***** 6'7", black, skinny as owt and not in the least bit Irish.
( The Mock TurtIe ™ --- Thinks you are a cunt, on, Fri 10 Mar 2006, 20:51, Reply)