Writing Prompt

Prompt

tweezers

rice pudding

swimming cap

Write a story where your protagonist is asked to leave a class because of these objects. All three must be in some way involved in their misbehaviour

Writings

British School’s

“Miss Sullivan!” Called out the old, boring English teacher. “What, Sir?” Replied Constance Sullivan. Her face was stuffed with her favourite food, rice pudding. “Put that bloody rice down and sort your tie out. It’s all over the place-“ “A bit like your eyebrows, sir,” she reached into her back pack and pulled out some tweezers. “You ever seen these before?” She called out. She lifted the tweezers into the air for the whole class to see. Amused by the blonde girls antics, the class erupted into laughter.

“I’m warning you, Sullivan.” He pointed his sausage like finger at her face. “Anymore nonsense and you’ll be having your rice pudding in the head teachers office.” “A first date with Mr Rooney? Oh lucky me,” she cracked. The class chuckled yet again and soon the lesson continued as the English teacher, Mr Letterman, had planned.

That was until his false hair began to slowly peel from his scalp. No one had noticed at first, they were too busy taking notes for their up-coming assignment. The as the lesson progressed it became more and more evident. Until eventually it ended up falling into the poor man’s cup of tea. It landed with a plop and a soggy splash. Needless to say, no one expected it.

“Bloody hell, Letterman! I think your wig just won the worlds best diver award!” Yelled Yasmin.

“Yeah, what a dick head!” Boomed Boris.

“It’s alright, sir! I have something else you can borrow!” At that moment Constance Sullivan, yet again, reached into her bag. Then slowly pulled out her swimming cap. “See, Sir! I can’t tell the difference!”

“CONSTANCE! GET OUT! NOW!”

Art class is hard

“One day“, he tought “one day i‘ll be honored for my work.“ Looking around the room, he noticed that everyone in class was laughing. The art teacher looked very upset, but he couldn‘t tell weather it was because of him or because of the children laughing at him. The center of attention was a canvas with a swimming cap stapled on it, inside of it was rice pudding that smelled like it had been in there for some time. “Do you think this is funny?“, the teacher asked. Still distracted, he didn‘t notice that she was talking to him. She was as old as the school and her chunky jewelry probably held some ancient curses. She was well groomed, but on her nose was a wart with a long, thick hair on it. The teacher was looking him straight in the eye. Feeling the need to explain himself, he started talking. “You asked for an art project about our mothers right? Well, in Biology we learned that, as an infant you are fed by milk that comes out of your mom‘s breasts. I wanted to use real milk, but my mom wouldn‘t allow it. So I had to think of something else. Fortunatly, on monday they had rice pudding, so I saved some for my project!“ “That was five days ago! Why didn‘t you just paint some flowers or something like that, like the other children?“ The teacher seemed even more angry than before. “But creativity is important for good art!“ He yelled, already feeling the tears in his eyes. He had worked so hard and now she doesn‘t even apprechiate that he skipped desert for his art? But then he remembered. He brought a gift for her today! He thought that it was mean that everyone made fun of the hair on her ward, so he brought her tweezers. The teacher has already sat down, shaking her head in disappointment. As he came near her table she looked up “What do you want now?“ “I brought you a gift“, she seemed skeptical, but that could‘t stop him. “This is for your ward! I figured you might not have one, so I thought I could help you out with one!“ For some reason, the teacher seemed even more angry now. “DO YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY? DO YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST MESS WITH ME UNTIL I QUIT? THIS IS NOT HAPPENING TO ME AGAIN! YOU ARE GOING TO THE PRINCIPALS OFFICE!“ As she screamed at him she turned a darker shade of red with every word she said. And also, with every word she said, his eyes filled with tears. Slowly he packed away the paintbrushes he got for his birthday and left the classroom.

Final Announcement

For my entire high school career, I’ve been doing crazy shit: pranks, disrupting classes, and just being generally disorderly. It was a sort of competition that my best friend Jules and I had started. We were very competitive. We’d been friends for nearly a decade when he got sick. I’ve never felt more helpless than when I had to sit and watch him slip away. Before he died, he made me promise. Promise to get expelled before the end of senior year.

He didn’t want me to be sad, so I’m not. Sometimes I’ll look over and begin to say something to him before remembering that he’s not there. But I have a promise to fulfil. A mission to accomplish. And I only have 11 more days to do it.

Today is the day- I can feel it. I get ready for school and pack my bag. Not with books and pens and gum like the rest of my classmates; but with every weapon in my arsenal. No, I’m not talking about guns! I’m not gonna shoot up the school like a psycho! I pack it full of toothpaste, spray paint, laxatives, hair-removal cream. Every weird and wonderful thing you could possibly think up.

I walk into the last class of the day, full of confidence. “This is for you, Jules,” I say to the ceiling lights as I prepare for an epic final showdown.

I reach into my backpack and pull out the green swimming cap that Jules insisted on wearing to school after he lost all of his hair, and pull it over my face. I cut eye and mouth holes into it, so I look like a Mexican wrestler. Mrs Razidi turns away from the board and stares at me. “What on EARTH are you doing, Mr Drew?” she manages to say before the first rice pudding bomb hits her square in the face. Then chaos erupts. The rice pudding-filled condoms that I dealt out to the class earlier find their way into eager hands and sail across the room. Mrs Razidi screams and ducks for cover as her precious diagram-filled board is repeatedly defiled.

I sneak to the disused bookshelf at the back of the class (a full-blown food fight has broken out so nobody notices me) and search the shelves. There it is! Using a pair of tweezers, I reach into a large crack in the wood and retrieve a flash drive. It seems all the pudding has been used up, and everyone is laughing and having a great time. I smile.

“I want you OUT of my class, Alex!” screams Mrs Razidi from behind her desk. I remove my mask and exit the classroom. This was my plan all along, ha! Once inside the principal’s office, all I need to do is insert the flash drive into the announcement system. Then Jules’ good bye message to the school will play. I wipe away a tear. I’ve kept my promise.