Bobby Poo Hands
As a prefect, part of my job was to go round checking the toilets at lunchtime to make sure no one had snuck in for a crafty fag. One particular lunchtime, my mate Steve had gone to check the boy’s loos. He came belting back round the corner with a look of abject horror on his face. “You HAVE to come and see this…” he spluttered. I followed him with a sense of foreboding.
When I went into the toilet, I recoiled gagging. For there across the wall was writing, exquisitely rendered in human excrement. Huge letters, each carefully formed by a hideous turd pen.
“We have to report this,” I stammered, and went upstairs to the staff room to have a quiet word with one of the more sympathetic teachers. He agreed to go and get the boy in question and talk to him about it.
So this foul tyke was brought to the teacher’s room and Steve and I were invited to be present. The teacher chatted to the lad, asking him what had possessed him to do such a thing. “Dunno sir. Just did.” No amount of cajoling could persuade him to explain the reason behind his actions. Exasperated, the teacher shouted “Look boy, this is just not normal behaviour, have you ANYTHING to say in your defence?”
“Yeah, actually. How could you be so sure it was me?”



“You wrote your name, you fucking cretin…”
(Rakky (forgot her password) The muffin maverick, Mon 22 Jan 2007, 15:25, Reply)