“This is BBC Berkshire with the news at six. Pictures have appeared in Rave News showing our local MP, Mr Craven, sporting a new type of hat on his head! When asked if this was to hide his baldness for the upcoming elections, he attacked the reporter and screamed that he could not remove the hat, even if he wanted to! More on this story later.
In other news, a primary school will be taking special measures to clamp down on bullying. Police Community Officers were invited to inspect the school after an Easter Sticky incident a few weeks ago, which saw the head teacher attacking one of her teachers. It was reported at the time that three suspects were questioned and released after the officers could not find enough evidence against them. These suspects were children attending the school. A specialist will be working with the children over the summer term.
And now in the Sports News …”
Cecil clicked the remote and changed the television channel to Sporks Forks and Dorks! He sighed. What a fantastic prank they had pulled off on the last day of school. His little piggy nose wiggled in delight as he remembered how Beefy Bertha, Tiny Thomas and himself had helped themselves to the delicious chocolate prizes left out after the mess. No-one wanted to eat them, so they couldn’t exactly let the prizes go to waste, could they? The rest of the children feel icky eating it with the coating of brown goo. They didn’t mind. Not one bit!
It was already the first day of summer term and he was not looking forward to it. The news had announced a specialist coming to the school and that meant more trouble for Cecil. The teachers and head had fumed at his parents, shouting and screaming that they needed to do something about him. Mum and Dad had shouted back, telling them to spend more time teaching and less time telling them how to be parents. Cecil had sat there, outside Mrs Palmer’s office, listening to the battle of lungs. He was glad he didn’t have to go into the office. There was a small packet of chocolate buttons he had kept to nibble on during this meeting and he wanted to finish it before Mum and Dad stormed out. That had happened on the first day of the holidays, three weeks ago.
Cecil slowly walked through the school gates and smirked as children scuttled out of his way. Yes! He was back to his kingdom and no-one would take away his power over these puny chuckleheads…not even a specialist teacher brought in to stop the bullying. The whistle blew and everyone lined up, of course keeping a healthy distance away from Cecil. Bertha and Thomas were further up the line. He could see Bertha giving Emma a nice trim with her Barbie zig-zag scissors and Thomas was preparing to give Simple Simon, the smallest boy in their class, a nice big wedgie!
The sound of clapping hands snapped through the air springing the children to attention. Everyone looked to their right where a tall thin woman stood, her hunched shoulders covered by raven black hair like a dark cloak. She watched Bertha and Thomas, dark eyes darting to and fro as the pair squirmed under her gaze.
“Hmph!” she said and led the Year 6 class into their classroom. The children settled into their seats quickly, wary of the raven lady’s stare. Looking at her made their insides squiggle and squirm and cold shivers ran down their spines whenever she fixed her dark eyes on them.
Bertha, Thomas and Cecil sat at the back of the classroom, pretending not to notice the shiver of fear running through the class. Cecil raised his podgy hand, a smile playing across his lips.
“Miss! Excuse me Miss!” he said loudly.
The woman turned her attention to him, her head tilting slightly to one side as she watched his fingers in the air. For some unknown reason, Cecil felt the urge to hide his fingers back under the desk.
“Yessss Mr Cecil Banks? What is your question?” she asked in a crackly voice.
“Wh…Where is Mr Barns Miss? And when is he coming back?” Cecil kept up his bravado with a big grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
The specialist teacher tilted her head the other way and waited a few seconds before replying, “Mr Barns was not feeling well after the last day at this school. He will be back in good time Mr Cecil Banks, once things have changed.” The last part of her sentence drifted off as she turned to write something on the board. “My name is Ms Crow. I will be your teacher for the summer. I am sure we will have fun together, won’t we children?”
Ms Crow turned back to the class, her dark eyes burning into the faces of the children watching her. They answered in unison, “Yes Ms Crow!” without thinking. Even Cecil and his minions answered.
She walked to her desk and, before sitting down, swept the seat with her hand. Two drawing pins flew on to the floor. She smiled and sat down once the chair was free from the offending pins. “Turn to page one of your Maths Is Easy books. We shall start from the beginning and work our way to the end of the book.”
“Aww! But Miss, we had already covered half the book before the end of term,” complained Spoilt Miranda, her pout not as severe as it used to be when she was a few years younger.
Ms Crow shifted her gaze in Miranda’s direction. “That will be quite enough complaining Miranda. We know what happens when we keep moaning and complaining about doing work, don’t we?” A twinge of Ms Crow’s lips sent a slithering shiver down Miranda’s back. Suddenly, she remembered Ms Crow!
A few years ago, Miranda had suffered from the most awful tantrums. She was, of course, a spoilt little girl who thought she could get away with anything. The police had come to visit her parents to talk about an incident at the shopping centre when Miranda had kicked off an awful scene and Ms Crow had sat there, right next to her mum on the sofa in the living room.
The raven looking woman waited for Miranda to reply and when nothing came out of the frightened girl’s mouth, she continued. “Turn to page one and Cecil, would you please read out the question?”
Cecil peered at Miranda’s pale face and then turned his attention to the book in front of him. Something strange was happening. He could feel it. His mouth opened and words came out, but he hadn’t wanted to say anything. “Molly and Wendy are standing in a line when Dorothy pulls out her scissors and cuts two centimetres off each girl’s hair…what??” He blinked twice, three times and yes, the words in the question remained the same. Bertha glared at him, not amused at his silly joke about her cutting the girls’ hair in the line.
Cecil’s mouth moved again. “How many centimetres should be cut off Dorothy’s hair to make it even?”
Beefy Bertha shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The eyes of all the girls whom she had given free haircuts to were watching her, thinking about Cecil’s question. Emma was feeling the ragged tips of her ponytail, now two centimetres shorter than before. Spotty Sally ran her fingers through the short boy cut she had to have after her parents thought she had cut her own hair at school. It would take ages for her hair to grow back and she blamed Beefy Bertha and her Barbie scissors.
Ms Crow squinted at the book, tilting her head like a bird watching a worm. She asked the class what the answer would be and every girl, apart from Bertha, put up their hands. Emma gave the correct answer and all the girls cheered for her. Ms Crow’s lips twitched and she turned back to Cecil.
“Cecil, read out the next question please.”
Before his lips could say something else, Cecil decided to take control. “I need the toilet Miss. May I be excused?” He put on his most innocent, desperate, I-need-the-loo kind of face for her.
She tilted her head at him and gave a brief nod with her beaky nose bobbing. Cecil stumbled out of the room, half running to the boy’s toilet. He had to escape and think of a plan to outsmart this strange teacher. Once in the boy’s toilet, he checked all the cubicles were free and sat down on a closed waste paper bin. Rubbing his fingers across his forehead, he thought and thought and thought. Aha! He had the answer. With a huge smile on his face he leapt up off the bin and ran to the door.
Cecil bounced back against the bin, tipping all the contents out and slamming against the wall. An extremely sharp pain went up his rear end as he felt his underwear tightening. The more he struggled to get away from the bin and the wall behind it, the tighter his underwear became. After squealing and squirming, Cecil stopped to look round. His pants were hooked onto a small gap in the tiles and a hole was shaping into a huge ‘O’ in his undies! As hard as he tried, he couldn’t turn to unhook the undies. The more he struggled, the tighter they got until it felt like he was wearing a girl’s ballet leotard!
“Arrrgh! Help!” screamed Cecil. The bin clattered as he shifted his weight away from the wall. “Heeeeellllppp!” he screeched again as he heard a rip behind him.
The sounds of feet running and the boy’s toilet door slamming open were accompanied by gasps. Andrew, Bertram, Alex and Henry couldn’t believe their eyes. Cecil was practically hanging off the wall by his knickers! Dirty paper towels lay scattered at his feet and his face was a bright red. The boys giggled and pointed. This was exactly what Cecil and Thomas usually did to them every break time, lunch time and anytime in between.
The elastic in his undies gave way and smacked against his tender posterior as he pulled away from the wall, trying to reach the chuckleheads to teach them a lesson.
“Oooowwww!” he howled as he hopped and skipped around the toilet floor, rubbing his sore bum.
Bursts of laughter echoed as the boys scuttled away before Cecil could get them. This was the first time Cecil had ever felt a wedgie. This was the first time he had ever felt the embarrassment of being caught with a wedgie! Cecil felt like crying.
Click here for Chapter Five.