Report for Slab Ghost
Approved stories7
Rejected stories (hidden) 7
Deleted stories (hidden) 4
SummaryCould Try Harder

A group of boys stand in a circle around a biscuit, wanking. The last one to spunk on it has to eat it. An urban myth?

A 'cuntstack' could, of course, refer to the classic rear view of a pile of naked ladies that used to round off the 'local features' shoot in Razzle.

Ben Evetts suffered from a very bad speech impediment that prevented him from being able to pronounce his ‘t’s. Being slightly backward, his mother made, what she considered, the wise decision of teaching him to recite his telephone number in the event that he ever got lost.
There were only two problems with this:
- Firstly, it became a panic reflex, which he blurted out at the slightest provocation.
- Secondly, his home number was "East Tisted 282".
The end result was that he would be chased around the playground every break, screaming, “Eesk Kiskig Coo Ay Coo! Eesk Kiskig Coo Ay Coo!”
This only carried on for a few weeks, however, before his mum withdrew him from the school and they moved away.

Cedric was our GSCE English teacher. I always thought this nickname was just childish alliteration, but the real reason soon became apparent.
During his lessons we would occasionally hear a long hissing noise, as he slowly but surely pissed himself.
He wore a catheter bag, which might explain why his pissing hissed, to be honest I never put my hand up and asked "sir, why does it make a hissing sound when you stand in front of class and piss yourself?"
Occasionally... this bag would develop a leak. And because he wore the same trousers everyday, a succession of dry salty tidemarks would develop around the crotch.
It is with a sense of shame - the man was incredibly nice - that I remember the whole class roaring with laughter. Cedric thinking it was due to his excellent depiction of Malvolio in Twelfth Night. Us, because the more we laughed, the more it encouraged him to prance about and the bigger his wet patch would grow.
(I have checked this entry out with the author, and he swears blind that it is all true. And that's good enough for me. - Log)

Considered a way to impress mates. Take a new box of matches, light one and stick it back into the partially open box with the others. Quickly, step well back and hold breath in expectation of huge pyrotechnical display. Sigh, at the tiny puff of acrid smoke. Net result, a millisecond of crap entertainment and no matches left to light to light your fags. Friends gained: none.

Norma Huges was a very fat pottery teacher. Norma wasn't the kind of lady to let her immense size dissuade her from wearing tight leggings.
She took her dog, Lance, for walks by holding his leash through the open window of her old Golf Polo whilst slowly driving around the school.
A phlegm-sodden scream meant that Lance had slipped her sausage grip. This would set off a chorus of imitation shrieks, resulting in a very confused dog and a very angry fat woman sweating in a metal box.
Lance! Look for food, Lance! If you don't find food, I shall eat the car! Then there will be no more walks! Now I am lying on the ground, Lance. Please take off my jaw and walk into my mouth, where I will start the laborious process of eating you. I wish food was easier to eat *FAT SIGH*

James Schofield had a particularly vivid imagination when it came to the sixth form girls and their exploits with him. And so he was redubbed "Matty" after Matthew Pearson in Grange Hill. The implication being that not only did he tell lots of lies, but he was getting bummed by his dad.