First, some suitable music to get you all in the mood.
So then, gentle Kiwis, I'm assuming most of you went to school at some point, well, in theory, anyhow. Regale us with your anecdotes of things that happened of note when you were there. Try not to powerlevel too much though. Now that Law of the Playground has vanished off the face of the web we need to replace it.
I'll start.
So, this was about 1998 and I was in year 8 (13 years old) at a state grammar school here in Britain. It was double History, and our usual teacher was away for some reason which sucked because we could derail him for hours about random shit because he was into historical re-enactments and historic European martial arts and would happily regale us forever about the difference between a sabre, estoc, zweihander, and similar and how full plate was more hindrance than help because while you were trying to get to your feet with a busted leg some archer type would stab you through the heart under the arm, and all that.
His replacement was the formidable Head of History, a man with the face of Jim Davidson and the voice of Del Boy, but the heart of Herr Flick of the Gestapo. He was an evil, evil, man and his nickname was William the Bastard (because William the Conqueror, and he taught history, wass called William, and was a bastard, like his Norman namesake). Anyhow. Having set us a load of stuff to do, he said he had to go over to some other room the other end of the school for some reason, and that he'd left confidential things under his desks which we weren't to look at, and if anyone tried, they'd get a Saturday Detention no argument.
Anyhow. Needless to say, one of our number thought, right, how's he gonna know, and went and looked under the desk. Within five minutes William the Bastard barged back into the room and with an outstretched finger, like Emile Zola's J'accuse, he rounded on the kid responsible and told him that he'd looked under the desk and was subject to immediate Saturday Detention.
"No I didn't, honest sir," said the kid responsible.
"Yes you did. I saw you," said WTB.
"How could you have from that other room?" said the kid.
"Aha!" said William the Bastard. "Because I didn't go to that room, did I. I went round the side into the outside cloister and stood on a bench and peered in through those high up windows in the exterior wall and watched you all from there! Now be quiet unless you want another Saturday Detention."
And it was true; he had done just that. He basically set us a secret test of character for no other reason than he wanted to fuck with us.
So then, gentle Kiwis, I'm assuming most of you went to school at some point, well, in theory, anyhow. Regale us with your anecdotes of things that happened of note when you were there. Try not to powerlevel too much though. Now that Law of the Playground has vanished off the face of the web we need to replace it.
I'll start.
So, this was about 1998 and I was in year 8 (13 years old) at a state grammar school here in Britain. It was double History, and our usual teacher was away for some reason which sucked because we could derail him for hours about random shit because he was into historical re-enactments and historic European martial arts and would happily regale us forever about the difference between a sabre, estoc, zweihander, and similar and how full plate was more hindrance than help because while you were trying to get to your feet with a busted leg some archer type would stab you through the heart under the arm, and all that.
His replacement was the formidable Head of History, a man with the face of Jim Davidson and the voice of Del Boy, but the heart of Herr Flick of the Gestapo. He was an evil, evil, man and his nickname was William the Bastard (because William the Conqueror, and he taught history, wass called William, and was a bastard, like his Norman namesake). Anyhow. Having set us a load of stuff to do, he said he had to go over to some other room the other end of the school for some reason, and that he'd left confidential things under his desks which we weren't to look at, and if anyone tried, they'd get a Saturday Detention no argument.
Anyhow. Needless to say, one of our number thought, right, how's he gonna know, and went and looked under the desk. Within five minutes William the Bastard barged back into the room and with an outstretched finger, like Emile Zola's J'accuse, he rounded on the kid responsible and told him that he'd looked under the desk and was subject to immediate Saturday Detention.
"No I didn't, honest sir," said the kid responsible.
"Yes you did. I saw you," said WTB.
"How could you have from that other room?" said the kid.
"Aha!" said William the Bastard. "Because I didn't go to that room, did I. I went round the side into the outside cloister and stood on a bench and peered in through those high up windows in the exterior wall and watched you all from there! Now be quiet unless you want another Saturday Detention."
And it was true; he had done just that. He basically set us a secret test of character for no other reason than he wanted to fuck with us.
