Monday, 24 March 2008

Behaviour Stats Marred by Very Naughty Girl

While levels of disruption have fallen in the overwhelming majority of British schools, a study this week shows, the behaviour of one girl has got significantly worse.

Deseret Treadwell, 13, of St. Uncumber’s Church of England School in Ghoul, Leicestershire, is described by teachers as “hardcore”, verging on “super hardcore”. The number of days she was caught carrying an offensive weapon has soared from 0.5% of the week in 2006 to over 90% last year, while incidents of abusive language from the unruly teen space-rocketed from 803 to a stark 11 251, much of it directed at teachers.

“Her attitude is simply harrowing,” said Mr. Lanyard, science. “She once gobbed off at rhodium, which is my favourite transition metal, and an essential ingredient in many alloys.”

“Her ipod is full of The Speeches of Great Pirates,” said Mr. Gussage, suspended, “and it’s largely hate-speech against the discipline-providers of that era, if the truth be told.”

“Ghoul is a tranquil village,” said Mrs. Nereid, art. “We do not like her.”

After one particularly trite Mr. Masterson assembly about the importance of forgiveness, upon hearing the dull-witted Head of Lower School make some punishment notices, Deseret is reported to have yelled, “Why don’t you forgive them, you hypocrite wh*lp!”

She also reads books on Arabic under the desk in French, and intends to become a Muslim, classmates say, “Just as soon as I find out what one of them is.”

She regularly skives off Personal and Social Education to scrump designer tops for her mates, and once helped six convicts to escape from Ghoul Gaol. Though later apprehended, the fugitives were serving 300 consecutive life sentences between them (albeit they only had a joint life expectancy of 200 years), for crimes ranging from crossing imaginary lines on a map drawn by medieval warlords, to holding noxious notions. They shouldn’t have been approached, said police, as they possessed a composite IQ of 600, the ability to leap a height of nine metres combined, and the mutual strength of one sick tiger.

“Only in the summer term does her disruptiveness lessen,” sighs form-teacher Mrs. Thorgumbald. “Then she sits at the back with a wistful smile, smoking hedgerow opium from an old can of Pomegranate 7 Up, and making insightful comments on literature.”

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