The BEST thing happened today

Okay. Picture the scene. It's just getting dark. It's the car park of our school. We boaties are just going out for our warm-up run. A certain boatie, Jack, is slightly ahead of the rest of the pack. He starts to jog out of the carpark. He's watched by a fat little 3rd year.
3rd year: Hey, run faster, you ginger shit.
Apparently this fat little 14 year old has been yelling insults at dear old Jack all day. Jack loses it. Like, he goes mental. And red. If you like swearing I advise you to read the next bit.
Jack: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU FUCKING LITTLE PRICK CUNT! I'L KILL YOU.
Jack chases the little 3rd year, who gives a petrified little scream and runs behind a car.
Jack: COME BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE FUCK!
Third year squeals again. Deputy Headmaster comes out of the front of the school. He takes in the scene, gasps, and shakes the monacle, mortarboard and ginsugars from his head.
Deputy Head: Hey, stop that! STOP IT I SAY.
Jack doens't stop it and continues to chase the little 3rd year. Deputy Head goggles.
Deputy Head: STOP! What's going on?
Jack: Fuck off, ask him.
Jack begins to run off down the road. Deputy Head calls again after him angrily, Jack stops, turns back, gets reprimanded.

Now, why was that the best thing to happen today? Have a guess. Write it down on a bit of paper. In fact, write it down on the screen here:

..................................................................................................................

If the ink isn't flowing properly onto the screen, use a solvent pen. That oughtta do it.

Was it because I dislike Jack and the idea of him getting reprimanded makes me happy and warm? No (in fact, Jack didn't even get in that much trouble). Was it because I dislike the Deputy Head and the idea of HIM getting cussed makes me happy and moist? No. Was it because I like swearing, and the idea of such foul cursewords being thrown around the car-park makes me secretly thrillful? No.

It's because, just for once, a 6th former managed to deafeat a 3rd year at SOMETHING. For ONCE, it was a victory for our side. For ONCE, the smile was wiped from the face of one of the Lower School. We won. Why does this please me so much?

Because I fucking hate the lowest three years in my school.

Seriously. It's hate. It really is. The first, second, and third years in my school can all go fuck themselves. For some reason, God has managed to gather together the most annoying bunch of 11, 12, 13 year olds in the entire country and sent them all to my school. Perhaps he's testing me for when I take his place.

I KNOW that, in order for the 6th form to keep replenishing itself, the school has to allow some younger boys in at some point, and 11 year olds probably deserve a decent education too. But WHY DO THERE HAVE TO BE SO MANY OF THEM? It's like a feckin plague of 11 year old squeaky voiced screaming gel haired greasy little small testicled cheeky barging pre-pubescent smelly loud little shits has suddenly descended on my previously calm haven of solitude.

They run into me when I'm walking along. They yell loudly while I'm contemplating the deep lyrics of Coldplay's White Shadows. They stand in the middle of the corridors with their massive backpacks, blocking the routes for all to pass. They're cheeky to me, they wander about in huge gangs, they act like they own the entire school.

PSA: If you haven't grown any pubic hair yet, you don't get to own any large educational buildings. In fact, you don't get to be a proper member of society.

I walk down the corridors like Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver, scowling at the scum that now fills my school. They're everywhere, screaming and giggling in the toilets, running full pelt into lunch and skipping the queue because they're little, running around in circles and hurling balls at my head on the field, hanging out in droves outside the girl's school next door, screaming randomly in the corridor, blocking the pathways. And they all look so feckin BAD. I mean, god forbid I we have just a FEW good-looking members of the lower school. But noooooooo. Most of them seemed to have tailored their appearance with the sole objective of pissing me off. To clarify, they all fit into one of five categories:

Fat -- When the Lower School does the cross-country run, these are the flabby little shits who start walking after ten metres, go red, start holding their sides and act like they're the most hard done-by members of the entire school. Then they buy all the chocolate bars in the Tuck Shop before I even arrive there and wander about eating them and talking loudly about how great they are. They also stand in doorways and force me to literally enter their tubby bellies in order to pass.
Oh yeah, for some reason all the fat ones think that they're really great.

Long hair -- These stupid little emo/indie rock kids with long hair and little badges on their bags wander the corridors of my school in rebel posses, looking really superior. These are the kids who show up on mufi day dressed in ultra-ripped jeans (with Green Day badges on them), a Nirvana t-shirt, an Offspring hoody and long stripey gloves with cut-out fingers. These feckin fecks probably listen to Kiss FM in the morning and get really psyched when they hear Westlife playing a rocky cover of a Daniel Beddingfield song then stroke their long hair and thing about how cool and rockenroll they are for having such nice long hair. Hey, guess what, fuckos? Long hair is no longer a rebellious fashion statement. Seeing as a good third of the country has grown long hair in an attempt to grapple-hook onto this trend, it's turned into just a depressingly non rebellious trend. And not even a good trend, like those guys in the sixties who had their teeth replaced with tiny watercolour pictures of some different teeth. It's a stupid trend and in ten year's time, you'll look at a photo album and say "What the hell was I thinking?". Then hopefully you'll hang yourself. With some high tech rope.
Every-time I see some of these cooly-cool-Jim-coolios, I just wanna grab their pseudo-rebellious locks, bang their heads together, give them a bowl cut, nail them to a chair (it'd have to be a proper wooden chair, not the crappy brown plastic ones we get given at our school) and force them to listen to the Pixies for six hours straight. Knock some proper rockenroll into their skullz. Little wankers.
Oh yeah, for some reason all the ones with long hair think that they're really great.

Ugly ones -- A lot of the kids in the Lower School don't quite look right. A lot of them are unsavoury looking. Many of them are just offensively ugly. They have weird shaped heads, sticking out ears, shiny skin, massively undersized bodies, eyes too close together, fucked up teeth, wheels where feet should be, braces, bad posture, weird looking hands, horribly twisted bodies, tongues too big for their mouths, greasy hair, hunched backs, and BO. And they don't just keep this ugly to themselves. They won't just do me a favour put a paper bag/cast iron mask over their freakishly malformed faces. Oh, no. They've been told by their mothers their whole lives how beautiful and perfect and unique they are, so they go out of their way to be the most obnoxiously loud, inyourface ugly fucks they can be. I don't want to look at your greasy skin, Bruno, fuck off.
Oh yeah, for some reason all the ugly think that they're really great.

Quiet ones that don't say/do much -- Hey, I don't mind these. This is probably because, if I squint my eyes, I can almost pretend that they're not there. Then that's just another memeber of the Lower School that I won't be seeing. The quiet ones don't really think that they're really that great, because they have low self-esteem. I think that we have too much self-esteem in this school. The Lower School need to have their spirits broken.

The "Too Cool for School" kids -- This could almost incorporate the 'Long hair' category, as many of the long haired members fit directly into this section. Basically, the TCFS (usually the really rich ones) have got an idea that they're better than the entire school, so swagger around being superior. They usually wear fancy custom blazers that their grandparents bought them in an attempt to look slightly rebellious, and are usually the ones who spend their holidays skiing in a specially built mountain in Switzerland. They buy out the entire stock of sweets at the sweet sale then walk about eating them right in front of me just as a demonstration of their wealth and utter superiority to me. On mufti days, they are dressed head to toe in designer threads. Usually, their hair is gelled into a tiny little quiff, which they wear with a moronic amount of pride. Like a crown. A little hair crown. Cunts.
These are the cheeky fucks who think that it's a hilarious idea to pat me on the back and say 'HI MATE!' as they walk by. Or they yell insults at the rowers as we do our run, then giggle and high-five each other for being so clever. BLAM. Dragon punch, right in the throat. But you can't, because the moment you touch a younger member of the school, they burst into tears and run to fetch the nearest teacher. And does the teacher EVER take the side of the older 6th former? NO. It's not FUCKING FAIR.

So now you can see why I'm so happy that Jack managed to frighten the crap out of one, and didn't get that harshly punished.

Why do I hate the Lower School so much? Perhaps it's because that, now I'm finally leaving childhood, I resent their youthful exuberance. Perhaps they just have a confidence in life that I lack, and I express my burning jealousy in anger and violence. Perhaps I'm already a twisted bitter old man. Except, no, wait, the reason why I hate the Lower School so much is because they're all a bunch of arrogant little fucking penii.

I recently got so sick of all these fuckers in my school, I decided to right back. I did this by training a guerilla army to break into their houses, sterilise their mothers and set fire to their arms. No, not really. The only thing to do is a series of lighning maneuvres to break down their spirits and crack their morale. Therefore, I barge them full on whenever I see one standing in the middle of the corridor. I do this by using my shoulders. In addition to this, I often utilise my elbows to really smackem in the ribs. I also like to grab their backpacks, just for a second, and knock them into the walls. If I see one running towards me, I suddenyl step directly in his way and cackle as he bounces off me. It's the small victories like this that keep me sane. The Lower School deserve this. They really do. It's not bullying. There are so many of them, and they outnumber me by like 400-1. They're a plague on the school. It's like that bit in Starship Troopers when there's like a billion bugs rushing the compound and they keep killing them but they just WON'T STOP and they end up climbing on the bodies of their fallen comrades. Me vs the Lower School: It's a riteous religious war. Jesus supports me. He does, I asked him other day.

"Hey, Jee-Zizzle, can I go ram the Lower School?"
"Sure thing, Thomas. Have fun!"

And that was Jesus talking, so I think that I'm in the right here.