Report for The Boy Tucker
Approved stories24
Pending stories (hidden) 1
Rejected stories (hidden) 8
Deleted stories (hidden) 17
SummaryShows promise

Hey Kids! Sometimes here at PGL we get sent submissions so disturbing it makes our flesh creep. We'd like to share that sensation with you now. Here's our most recent submission for the "bullying" thread. Note the lack of remorse. *Shudder*

Although I never got anyone to actually kill themselves, I still consider myself to have been the best bully I have known.

I was suspended once for telling the diabetic kid in our school that he was "a bit a of a freak". This was the official reason given to my parents on the letter of suspension. But the truth was that, through two and a half years of relentless bullying, the stress had actually caused him to DEVELOP diabetes, and move to a new school. It wasn't very clever stuff ('You're gay', 'You look like a cat, Catman', 'your mother is a hermaphrodite who tried to seduce me', 'your (8-year-old) sister is actually your father's 34-year-old gay lover' etc. etc.) but it was never-ending. I remember the head of middle school telling me as he sent me home that the poor boy would "have to inject himself with insulin every day for the rest of his life."

Well, I met him not six months later and it turned out that the diabetes had completely disappeared after the bullying stopped, so he didn't have to inject himself anymore. Someone owes me an apology.

I think I'm owed an apology.

File under pencil murder, anal.
Boy 1 holds pencil, point up, on chair of boy 2. Boy 2 sits down, pencil forcibly tears through his trousers into his rectum, shears through the sensitive tunnel, javelins the prostate gland, leaving the child in excruciating agony as he slowly dies of an internal bum haemorrhage.
This version is funnier because it has a bum in it.

A dinner lady once asked a colleague what the magic word was, after he forgot to say please. His response?

"Abracadabra motherfucker, now give me my potatoes!"

He later claimed that he had been calling the dinner lady "Mother Hubbard" as a term of endearment. It was a nice try.

Colin was star of an late 70's educational video about and the horrors of kidney failure and the wonders of dialysis. He was a fey child, a girlishly slight frame setting off a girlishly soprano voice. (Blimey - he sounds like antique-hunting pre-teen James Harries... - Log)
Colin's jim-jams were paisley, had flared sleeves and pointed collars. Colin looked away, biting his brave bottom lip as his mother stuck a sharp needle into his arm.
As if this wasn't heart-breaking enough, Colin's chirpy closing speech to the camera distilled into fifteen words what dialysis means to so many; "I love being on my dialysis machine, because then I can eat crisps and pop."

Aged 8, Ian claimed he caught asthma from me after a particularly bitter game of tag. I did not know, until recently, that asthma is not an contagious disease.
I like to imagine myself, grown up and knowlegeable, retrospectively putting him in his place with an arsenal of words like respiratory, non-communicable, and retrospectively.
As it was, I just apologised for giving him asthma.

Frazer was married to Betty. Desite his vehement denials of the obvious fact, I put the matter beyond doubt by writing "Betty" on several amall pieces of paper, folding each twice, sneaking up behind Frazer and sprinkling them over his head whilst shreiking "Betty Confetti!" inches from his ear.
Sadly, his eardrums were not perforated. However, he did complain of a ringing in his ears. The ringing of bells. At his wedding. To Betty.

10 Person spots a yellow car. These are the rarest and most noteworthy cars of all.
20 Person who spotted the yellow car says "Yellow car!" and punches the person sat next to them on the arm.
30 Go to 10

Note that the game is called yellow car, not yellow van or yellow truck or yellow bus. Only Jews call commercial vehicles.

On similar lines (but not as rude, so resulting in less kudos points), is "Hairy Muff" or "Fairy Muff" said in place of "Fair Enough". - Matt Fasham
Excrement point Matt, truly excrement. - The Boy Tucker

Using the laser printing technologies available in some schools, it is relatively easy to print out fifteen life-sized copies of your French teacher's grinning face, and for the whole class to be wearing them when he enters the room.
If he says "that's a waste of resources", simply reply "what's a waste of resources, sir?"

An all-purpose camp innnendo, silmilar to " the actress said to the bishop..." and only slightly slightly funnier:
eg: Person A: "It won't fit!"
Person B: "That's not what you said last night!"
Person A: "I'm not sure I like it"
Person B: "Ooooh, That's not what you said last night, Ducky!"
Person A: "I have decided to eschew homosexuality as I do not enjoy same gender sexual relations, despite any previous comments I may have made yesterday evening"
Person B: "Oh. Ummmm."

The more we said "moist" while she was talking, the more increasing was her frustration.
"I know what you're doing!" she told us.
So did we. We were saying "moist" at her.

In an attempt to make the Encore Tricolore text book more appealing to students, a photo-biography of "Mission:Impossible" star Emmanuelle Béard was included. Despite the misleading name, Emmanuelle Béard had no beard. This matter was swiftly rectified.

Although not technically a proper mong, Ross did have a speech impediment somewhere between a blocked nose and a cleft palate. This, combined with his shambling gait and lack of academic ability, made him the closest thing to a proper mong we had in the absence of a dedicated special needs unit at our school.

During one day of particularly heavy taunting, Ross tried to escape by climbing the side of a building. There he hung by one arm, and with the other swiped feebly at his tormentors ten feet below, emitting a low guttural moan.

It later turned out that Ross was a very sick young man, and had suffered abuse at the hands of his family from an early age. Nonetheless, I would like to take this opportunity to thank him for providing me and my friends with the wonderful phrase "King Mong". Long may it continue.

Pinch a flap of skin on your cheek between thumb and middle finger, then use the index to make a fold in the resulting bulge. Hey presto, you have something vaguely resembling a bald vagina on your face.
This was demonstrated to me aged 8, when I had never seen a cunt, didn't know what the word meant, and had no idea whether a bald cunt was funnier than a hairy one. It was on the guy's cheek though, so I laughed anyway.

The name of our victorious sixth form five-a-side team. The gutless teachers changed it to "The Beard Brothers" when our triumph was announced in assembly.
Now, for some reason I've always thought that this modified title implied that we took to the field with our arsecress braided to that of other team members, creating a monstrous pentagon of hairy bottoms.
This would have been quite an achievement, perhaps an even greater one than merely plaiting one's own anal beard and subsequently beating all comers at five-a-side football.

"I'd like to build the world a home,
And furni-SH IT with love..."

We only ever sang that one once.

As an ardent Derby supporter, James once professed his admiration for their star striker with the phrase "I love fucking Wanchope." His broad midlands dialect led to the bastardisation of the Spanish 'Wan-Chop-Ay' into the simple 'Onechop'.

After weeks of being reminded of this, James threatened to "fucking kill" us with his "fucking gun". Presumably the same gun he used to fuck Onechop.

Take care never to mention that the word bollocks "trips lightly off the tongue." It is unlikely you will be able to swear this way again for the rest of your school career, perhaps your whole life.

Young John claimed to have tried "slap".
Though this may not have been true before, it most certainly was after.

When a stray rugby ball is kicked towards an unwitting victim, it is considered good manners to shout "Heads!" to warn them. The natural response, rather than covering the head, is to look up towards the oncoming missile, resulting in a comical face/ball interaction and many tears.

Matt, who kicked for the first 15, had honed his skills to the point where he could place a ball into a crowd with unerring accuracy. He also perfected the timing of the cry of "Heads!" so that people would look up at the exact moment of impact.

Miss Spooner decided to make an example of us when we vandalised James' rough book, by reading out loud some of the cartoons we had drawn.
Oddly, she chose one of her being fucked by James while she said "Oooh Yeah! I love it! I am a fat minger!" while both farted raucously.

A group is defined as much by those who are outside as inside. When, on the first day of school, Sam and his father pulled up in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, both wearing driving goggles, we all knew where the boundaries were set.

As a pupil at an all boys school, the number of flesh-and-blood women suitable for adolescent masturbation fantasies was limited. A discussion of the subject revealed that only two or three female teachers were utilised by the whole class. A suggestion was made that this made us all gay, and so, not wanting to appear gay, the idea of wanking rights arose. Essentially this was the same as calling "shotgun" for a car - the first person to see the teacher that day would shout "wanking rights!" when the teacher was first sighted, usually as she entered a classroom, and that person would then have the sole rights to wank thinking of that woman for one day.

A measure of distance, speed or power.
"I kicked the ball so hard it went round the world and hit you in the back of the head," and so forth.
Boasting that your cock is so big it encircles the globe is likely to backfire, as any pelvic thrusting on your part will lead to inadvertant penetration of your own arse.