My Hilarious School Life.

You could almost taste the sweet tension in the air as the door creaked shut and slammed behind the assistant head teacher. It was moments before this the flurry of dirty and foul language had poured out of my mouth at very high volume, which was only normal for a thirteen year old. The class was not having a good time, whisperings, 'just tell her it was you' and 'we're all gonna get killed if you don't own up.' I listened carefully to what mrs beattie had to say. 'Just because your class teacher has not arrived yet... bla bla.' this was rubbish, and she was spitting everywhere. I remained poised, listening for vital information while the rest of the class drowned in their own nervous sweats. Here it was , 'I will give the whole class conduct marks if the guilty party does not own up.' Ha! As if she was going to sit and write out thirteen conduct marks, I could tell this was not serious. So I remained still, quiet, and innocent as a church mouse on a picnic. The class would not trust me. Yet. I was confident, but I do have to admit that my face was an intense mix of light scarlets and crimsons. That was beyond my control. The assistant head left and the door slammed angrily behind her. The class erupted the moment the sound of her footsteps faded into the distance, and most of the firey anger was directed at me. I explained my theory to them and they calmed down. no one understands teachers like I do. And of course, the promised conduct marks never arrived, like I predicted. I almost enjoyed it.
Ah yes, those teachers. You love to hate them. Me being me decided to go the edge further and make a real mockery of one of the german teachers. If I remember correctly enough, it was before lunch and our teacher wasn't in. Subsitutes are easy to skive through. However, when we reached the class I couldn't help but laugh. We had Miss Moffat. Tall lanky, skin hanging off and a face like an antique prune. She wore oversized spectacles, and her hair was carved like a wiry helmet. But the killer was her dress sense; a typical old lady style flowery shirt that looked like her grandmas old curtains and baggy cloth trousers. Sorry, I seem to have put the term baggy too lightly. I suppose, if you laid these beastly trousers out they could have been about 1-1 1/2 metres wide. I do not exaggerate. Underneath these were sports slouch socks and running trainers. So, I took this as an opportunity to take the rip. I was sitting next to Hannah, and Miss Moffat was just prancing about so I ripped off a small peice of the worksheet we had been given, and set my pen to it. I was kinda famous for my realistic charicatures of teachers, and this one was the best. It showed the baggy trousers as about 10 times the body length, with tiny feet protruding out the end and sticks for a body. I topped it off with the straw like hair and etched in carefully 'Miss Moffat AKA Trumpet Trousers' This cracked the class up and is still a legend and talked about to this day. When the note got back to me, trumpet trousers (now been shortened to T.T for efficiency) had caught on. She reared herself up in front of me and asked for the note. I tried to rip it up and she dug her nails straight into my hands so deep I'm pretty sure she still has some of my blood under those dirty nails. That made me let go, she read it and took me outside. She was crying, which was unfortunate, so I started doing it too but she was tough and ordered me to come to the staff room tomorrow and pick up my conduct mark. I didn't really know what to do, it was the first time I'd been caught and my parents and family... what would they think? It was at this moment she also asked me to see the deputy head at break. Uh oh. Miss MacIntosh, she had the power to tell my parents exactly what I'd done, while I already had my false aliby. My heart sank. The next day, however, I was standing outside her office with my conduct mark in hand. I was sweating and everything and had an extremely red face. When I got in and sat down it was a total surprise. She was so nice about it and as I reached for the door handle I felt so comfortable I even asked her if she'd be telling my parents and she calmly said 'no, you don't have to tell them about it' and smiled knowingly. I almost enjoyed it, again.