Group trolling.
My Chemistry teacher, no matter how much he would have denied it, had an uncanny resemblance to Postman Pat. My friends with elder siblings had been warned that on no account was this to be mentioned, the irrational explosion of terrifying anger that would ensue was not worth the risk. Obviously this was like a red rag flying cat to an autism bull, but being scared little first years none of us were brave enough to outright say anything. Instead, we embarked on what with hindsight I can now see as a monumental effort of group trolling. It started small, little snippets of conversation as he walked past desks. "Did you see Grange Hill last night?", "No, my little brother had his Postman Pat video on", then vague hummings of the theme tune or odd references to 'Have you seen Jess?', Questions - 'Sir, how does the sticky stuff on the back of a stamp work?'. You could almost see the paranoia and twitch in his eye develop as the lessons passed.

Waiting outside at the start of class "it's like pension day at the Post Office'. Bad jokes that didn't even make sense "Knock Knock, Who's There? The Postman? The Postman who? 'The Postman always knocks twice" (Not that any of us would have seen the film, I'm sure, but we'd heard of it).

And then someone turned up to class with a Postman Pat Pencil Box and a whole new level of warfare was opened, we spent our lunch money on Postman Pat rulers, Pens, Rubbers, Pencil Sharpeners, Lunch boxes, a couple of people started bringing in younger siblings Postman Pat satchel's with their books in. And then, finally, in a moment of genius that turned us from irritants to flat out bullies someone bought in about 50 sheets of Postman Pat wrapping paper and each and every one of us, bar a few of the hardy ne'er do wrongs, covered our homework books in them before we handed them in. One by one they piled up on his desk as the steam started to pour from his ears and his face turned red as...well...a post box.

Sadly there is no great pay off to this story. Next lesson we all got our books back, all of which had had the offending paper removed and an unspoken agreement seemed to settle upon us that we had taken this as far as we could. So I never did get to see the infamous temper and this story kinda just fades away, but having just spent 10 minutes writing it down, I'm quite proud of 11 year old me and my cohorts.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Thu 19 May 2011, 16:43, 2 replies)

nicely done

( zulu eh?, Thu 19 May 2011, 19:49, closed)

That's brilliant.

( Maffers I flow kinda strange like Spina Bifida footprints, Thu 19 May 2011, 21:15, closed)