Rupert was in the year below, and was quite simply the fattest child aged 15 that anyone in the area had ever seen in their lives. He may as well have had his inhaler strapped to his face while a drip kept the fluids coming.
There are several, but by far the best Rupert story is on a day when everyone in the 5th year had Science in the classrooms that overlooked the school playing fields. The 4th years were doing 100m on an outrageously bumpy stretch of grass, and so as to emphasise their inferiority and fatness in proportion to slender sporty-ish types, the crap fat asthmatic kids were bundled together in the last race.
At that moment the science teacher could have stopped class on the spot and put a porn video on, and everyone in the entire wing would still have been focussed on the sight of Rupert trying to get into the "set" position with the blood from his arse rapidly draining into his head.
As soon as the gun went, the slightly better crap kids shuffled away at relatively laughable speed, but Rupert took an age to even leave the ground. By the time he was upright, it looked like he was beginning to lose his balance.
Incredibly, he started to fall at about the 10m point, and was still falling about 50m further on. Eventually the inevitable happened, and he sprawled in suicidal parachutist fashion onto the grass. Minutes later, as the laughter started to die down, it was noticeable that he wasn't getting up.
15 motionless minutes later, a fucking ambulance arrived to tend to the crumpled mass of boy, and if that wasn't funny enough to everyone, the sight of the ambulance crew not being able to lift him off the floor was enough to convince even our Physics teacher that it genuinely was far more interesting than the fact that water will not fall out of a bucket if you swing it fast enough.
A second ambulance crew arrived, big Rupe was practically given a leg and a wing into the ambulance, and three weeks later everyone in the 5th year stopped laughing.