Not really traumatic, and possibly a pea.
Our school bus was a bit rough. Actually, our school was a bit rough. The bus companies would send the shabbiest vehicles they could muster to ferry us all to & from school. You couldn't blame them though, our school and particularly the route I used had a reputation for damaging buses.

The 'merriment' began when some buck-toothed genius had a moment of clarity among the Regal Kingsize smog on the upper deck and opened the emergency exit (presumably in response to flatulence). Over the next couple of weeks this quickly progressed to pubescent boys hanging and jumping outside the bus as it travelled between stops at 20-30 mph. Another pikey epiphany revealed that many of the seats were not secured to their mountings, allowing them to be lifted and ejected from said exit, much to the chagrin of following motorists and nearby pedestrians.


Another amusing occurence was when we were assigned a new driver who didn't know the route. The poor naive soul depended on the guidance of the 'good kids' who sat at the front of the bus downstairs. A wily young chap, saw and grabbed his opportunity. Discreetly issuing a few wedgies, wet-willies and dead arms secured him position as sole directional advisor, in which he maintained the persona of helpful nerdy child to the feckless driver.

He then proceeded to direct the bus of about 40 kids and an increasingly lost driver directly to his front door. In a small (twisty entrance among parked cars) cul-de-sac. With no space to turn around and his 'helpful assistant' watching amusedly from his doorstep, the driver had to knock on about 10 doors and ask residents to move their cars so he could manouvre out of the street and return to the correct route.

Incidentally, I now live in that street. Delivery wagons don't like bringing building supplies to my house.
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Fri 30 May 2008, 9:50, Reply)