Each year in my school had 4 teams for games like rugby: A, B, C and D in descending order of competence. Because my year had slightly more pupils than normal, a fifth team was created, imaginatively called E. I had the good fortune to be a member of this team, which we proudly renamed the E Team Dropouts. We were comprised of the fattest, laziest and most asthmatic kids in the year, and spent most of the time sitting around on the grass watching the other teams exhaust themselves.
Ever Lasting Protection, against the lurgy, cooties, fleas, etcetera. Administered with an invisible can of flea spray over the affected area of the body. Must be accompanied by a hissing sound - otherwise your pressurised can obviously isn't working, and no protection will be afforded. Can also be used on chairs and desks which are suspected of having been sat at by anyone incontinent, smelly or simply unpopular.
Advice given to pupils complaining about sun in their eyes, by English teacher Mr Roddy Thompson. Half-plausible until you realise that 1) eagles don't stare at the sun and 2) you'd go blind.
A phrase reserved for popular kids; short for excellent. They possibly didn't realise what pretentious upper-class pricks this one word made them sound like.
Oft used phrase in Longman's Audio-Visual French course, and the only words of French that 50% of our class learned thanks to Mrs Talbot's habit of wearing tight white tops.
This was the rather arbitrary name given to new boy Edward Coyde, in year 5, for no reason other than the quickfire cruelty of Mark Birch. The name never caught on, and boy was reduced to tears, but as a happy upshot Mark and Edward quickly became friends. I read in the paper recently that Birch had died in a car crash, whilst being driven by... Edward Coyde, who survived.
Version of telling, or arrrrrrrr. The main group of people would shout "ee-a, ee-a" for around three minutes, circling the offender, and one person would go for the teacher. Presumably we were a fleet of police cars, which is something of a disproportionate civil response to someone doing a smelly trump.
Quite simply the rudest phrase that can be uttered by a six year old Scottish child.

Apparently a toley is a willy, and hen's keech is chicken poo. No further translation is provided.
A north eastern variation of arrrrrrrrrrrrr and ummmmmmmmmmm.
One of the many synonyms for 'twat'. After a while, the regular insult exchange evolved into:
Kid A: You're an eef!
Kid B: Eef what?
Kids A+B (singing): Eef I was a rich man...
They would then continue to sing any of the rest of the words if they could a) remember them, and b} be bothered.
The variant 'eenie meenie minee mo, catch a nigger by the toe', taught to me by the school's only black kid, should not be used in front of parents. Or in Clark's, no matter how hard it is to decide which shoes you want.
The ruthless teasing of short-fused ginger kid David Tyers was a highly rewarding pastime due to his tendency to fly into apoplectic rages and lose the ability to think clearly. His insulting yet mystifying outbursts reaching their high water mark with the frothy-mouthed ejaculation, "You egg dribble!" Damned by his own mouth, this was adopted as the weapon of choice for inflicting further suffering on poor Tyers.
A group of boys rounding up a group of girls on a school trip. The girls sit on a table in the boys room, and the boys proceed to circle round the table rubbing their imaginary breasts, all the time repeating, again and again, "Eggie Eggie Sa Sa". After some time the girls would become quite scared and start running around, screaming. Teachers rarely interrupted this process, perhaps scared to dabble in that which they didn't understand.
Make a fist on someone's head, tap it down with your other hand, and slowly drag both hands down the scalp. This experience is exactly the same as having an egg gently tapped on your head, as those of us from loving egg-tapping families will know.
The term to describe the fart of a father.
As in "who just waved an eggy banner?" A fart.
If someone is naturally inclined to violent rages, then simply shouting "eggy doyler" at them, again and again, often allows you to push them over the edge without having to think too hard.
A particularly obnoxious fart that moves throughout the room, causing as much panic as a bubbling puddle of liquid AIDS.
Thank you to the anonymous user who reminded us that, yes, girls did used to play with elastic. Metres-long bits of clothing elastic, for strange jumping/falling-over purposes. The ritual began with putting the elastic around the ankles, and from thereon things got dark and scary. Songs were involved.
With a friend, find a child smaller than you who has gloves on elastic through his coat. Proceed to stretch elastic to the point where the whole playground is literally 'divided' by the elastic, with the small child helpless in the middle. Letting go is also a pleasure.
During a GCSE Science lesson we devised a test of endurance.. First you need around 15-20 paper clips and a 12volt power source (although we did make a 9v portable version, it had a very limited battery life). Next string the paper clips together and attach them like a beard - over your chin with the ends of the chain coming down behind your ears. Now attach the power source - the winner, naturally, is the one who can withstand the agony for longest.
Geography supply teacher Mr Mitchell noticed a switch by the white board. On asking us what the switch was for, we told him that it flipped the board over to reveal a clean writing surface. He then proceeded to flick the switch many times, with no resulting magical board reversal. Exclaiming that it was clearly broken, he remained utterly oblivious to the fact that the lights were constantly going on and off.
When mouthed to someone, the lip-reading recipient will interpret this as "I love you". On their begging your pardon, you could then reply, "I said elephant juice, dummy."

This was briefly popular at our school until Steven Richardson blurted out "I love you!" to Andy Scott, missing the point entirely, but confirming what we already knew.
The fat bloke out of Brush Strokes, therefore any fat person in any class in any school, from 1986-88. In particular, Andrew Barlow. Andrew delivered swift and heavy justice to people who called him Elmo. He was the tallest boy in the year, and so was in the most commanding position to deliver a painful bundy. The fat bloke was also in Chelmsford 123, with a similarly stupid fat sounding name. This caught on for a brief while, but appalling as Brush Strokes was, it was better than fucking Chelmsford 123.
Anyone who kicked Cheesy, stole his bag or merely expressed a different opinion to him in polite conversation instantly became his emeny, and he'd waste no time telling them as much. I suspect he'd have had less emenies if he hadn't insisted on using a bastardisation of the English language generally reserved for children 10-12 years younger.