As the second bell rang they knew they were going to be late, but then again they always were. Class change between periods one and two on a Thursday morning demanded a fag break, maths then geography, it was almost too much to bear.

“C’mon, Tyson’s really goin’ to fuck us over if we’re
too late,” said Davey, rubbing his cold hands.
Mulley agreed, and as they began to run over the moist playing-field on a cold February morning, he quickly dragged the letters off the half cigarette he had
dibbed out before starting school.

Bursting into class they were late enough to annoy the formidable Mrs Tyson, but not enough to warrant further action.

“Sit down immediately boys, if the same happens next week you miss your break-time,” she said as the boys sighed and sat down, taking out their green text books and graffiti laden pencil cases.

Mulley quickly scanned the room and spotted it straight away, his keen eye for spying the smallest of things had gained him notoriety before. He actually noticed when the fattest teacher in school was pregnant, even when nobody else did. Now however, he was focused on the tin foil wrapped item on Tyson’s desk, it had to be a cake, and he was feeling peckish after a hard morning of maths.

“I’m gunna get some of that cake on Tyson the Bison’s desk
over there, look, hmm I bet it’s well nice.”

Davey disagreed, “Mullatron dude, probs not a good idea, I mean, you’ve pissed her off enough this term man.”

“Oh fuck off you dildo. I need to get moved onto that table in front of her desk, then you distract her and I’ll get some of that cake, mmmm, I can fuckin’ taste it now.”

The table of girls next to them giggled whilst Davey sighed and continued copyingoff the black-board. Mulley again, had noticed something before anyone else and was beginning to laugh uncontrollably. Tyson’s gigantic breasts were rubbing off the lines of text she had just written on the bottom half of the black board, as she strafed to the right, continuing at the top.

Turning around to confront the laughter a swooshing cloud of white chalk followed her, sending the entire class into hysterics. She stood there hands on hips with the tips of her huge breasts covered in white. Mulley saw his chance and took it.

“Miss! I’ve got the biggest Tommy Rocker right now, you wouldn’t even believe it!”

“RIGHT!” Tyson exploded, storming over to the boys table she grabbed Mulley’s book and threw it across the room onto the table in front of her desk and pointed.

“Arh but Missssssssss,” he tried to retort with a whine.

“No back chat, get over there, sit down and shut up. Quiet now class, if we get this lot done there might be a surprise for you at the end of period.”

A small sea of heads quickly lurched over their books, popping up every now and again to try and remember at least two lines of text on ‘longitude and latitude’ from the black-board. Mrs Tyson was back scribing relentlessly,
making sure that her terrifyingly large chest failed to come into contact with
the board.

Mulley scribbled in the back of his text book, tore out the page, screwed it up and threw it at Davey. He immediately knew it was a bad idea, not because it would rouse Tyson’s attention, but because tarring out the back page of his book meant the front page fell out. ‘Arh well’, he thought to himself, ‘fuck it’.

Davey picked up the note that had hit him with a soft thud on the side of the head unravelled it and read: “DON’T NEED YOU NOW FUCKO JUST KEEP SHUT UP.”

Davey did as he was told and kept quiet. Mulley was already debating in his mind how to get the cake, go under the desk and pop-up the other side? This was the more covert choice. Or go over the top, which was faster but had a higher risk of detection. He went for speed over finesse and began pulling himself slowly over the top of the table. Other classmates had noticed his bid for the
cake, whispers fluttered around the room, questioning his sanity and his chances of success. Quickly sliding his hand over a pile of notes he pinched the top of the foil wrapped object and attempted a lift.

Success, although, his first reaction was that it was too heavy to be cake, he thought for a second and decided to go ahead with the lift anyway, raising his arm and spinning around on his jumper-covered friction free belly, he craned the object to his table and quickly slithered back into his chair without disturbing Tyson.

As he slowly peeled the foil back he detected no scent, and then, with a myriad of colour, the contents were revealed.

“ARH WEAK, IT’S…!” He began to exclaim with instant regret.

“Right that’s it boy! Lunch time detention for you!” Tyson
interrupted with ferocity.

He slouched in his chair as a wave of laughter again consumed the classroom. ‘Bollocks’ he thought, ‘Not one free lunch this week.’

Two hours later he showed up for a lunch spent writing lines of; 'I should never, ever take things from the teachers desk,' which he knew would inevitably end up in the bin. And if this fate of repetitive work wasn’t punishment enough, the bowl of fruit sat right before him, shining in the winter sun colours of green, yellow and orange, untouched. His class had decided against their
‘surprise,’ as had the class immediately after, he wondered just how long that bowl had been there, and then decided to treat himself to an apple.

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