We had a thing
called the Death Book, to ease our boredom at school - over 100 different ways to kill teachers (because they HOUNDED us, poor little darlings). I wrote a poem about it, and it goes like this:

Mr Leech in an acid vat
Mr Porter mauled by a cat
Mrs Hampton skewered with pins
Mrs Stoor with flayed-off skin
We'll put their heads in a bag of bees
We'll tie piranhas to their knees
We'll gas them in the science lab
And lay them out on the mortuary slab!

Hooray for angry teenagers!
(sporks, Thu 11 Aug 2005, 23:39, Reply)