Thursday, April 9, 2015

Election Diary - Day 11: Tales from the Playground #93501

Ed had been in classroom 3C for half-an-hour already. He always got to school early, because it was what he lived for. He would read over all of his notes ahead of that day’s lessons and make sure everyone had paid their debts into the swear box.

He was running for Class President, but it wasn’t going smoothly. He couldn’t seem to get enough votes. The good news was that 3C was really divided because they’d been let down by Class Presidents before (most notably by one who everyone liked, until he ruined it all by invading another class) so his opponent and current CP, David, was struggling to get enough votes as well.

A lot of people were voting for Nigel, who thought that the class was being run by another class and that they should lock the door and not let anyone in.

The new day always started with the class meeting, and suddenly one of David’s friends stood up. He was called Michael, and no-one usually paid much attention to him, but he had something to say.

“We all know that Ed is dangerous,” started Michael. “Remember what happened with his brother”.

Everyone shifted uncomfortably in their seats at this moment. They did all remember what happened with Ed’s brother. They’d had an argument about which of them was better, and they put it to a vote, and Ed won, but only by getting the teachers to vote for him as well. And the cleaners. And the cooks. And Martin, the class hamster.

But then, Ed’s brother was so upset that he stopped coming into school and then, one day, Ed announced that his brother was so upset that he’d gone to America to get away from the shame and the hurt. Everyone missed Ed’s brother. Everyone.

“Ed will do anything to win a vote,” Michael continued “And now he’s promised Nicola that we’re not going to buy stink-bombs anymore. Classmates, we all know that stink-bombs are vital for our class-defences. If someone drops a stink-bomb on 3C, we must be able to drop a stink-bomb on them. It’s only fair. Ed will say that this isn’t true, but we know Nicola is against stink-bombs, and he needs Nicola to win. So, he will backstab us just to win. Just like he did with his brother.”

“And he smells,” said a boy called George.

“And he’s funny looking,” said a boy called Iain, who had always looked old, but was really just a boy.

Pandemonium broke out. One table in the class was stuffed with people from the school paper, who promptly started whooping, shouting “Oooooh, burn!”, and saying “Oh no he didn’t!”

Ed’s friends, meanwhile, rallied around him. One of them shouted “Put a stink-bomb up his bum!” Ed, though, had learned that you needed to be dignified in such things. He would have been hurt if he weren’t so used to it, and said that Michael had “demeaned” himself and that he himself would never do that.

“You called David “dodgy”,” said one of David’s mates, before David himself stood up.

“I support Michael,” said the CP. “Whatever happens, here’s the situation. Ed doesn’t know how many stink-bombs he wants. I want 4 stink-bombs. I am the only person promising 4 stink-bombs. Vote David, get stink-bombs.”

“Inspiring stuff,” muttered the teacher sardonically under her breath.

Then Ed’s friends shouted that he’d get 4 stink-bombs too, and David’s friends just kept on chanting “Backstabber! Backstabber!” at them, whilst the writers for the school paper just shouted “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

And the teacher had been watching all of this, and sat there with a weary look, sipping on her Irish coffee.

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