He's got the whole world in his hands...
At assembly, we used to sing the song 'He's got the whole world in his hands'. This would infuriate the piano player, who would slam the piano lid shut and scream "it's HAND, damn it, he's got the whole world in his HAND". Which obviously invited the question "well what's he doing with the other one, miss?".
I think she just hated plurals, because she went even more mental when she did the same thing to Would you cross over the other side, if someone called for aid.
written by excluded pupil, approved by Susan

During our rendition of "Go Tell In On The Mountain", our piano-playing teacher slammed down the piano lid and threw a massive spac at the class. The reason?
We were pronouncing the last syllable of mountain "tin", and not, as she insisted, "tayne". Our response to her fury was to laugh, as one, in her face.
The issue was only resolved when the deputy headteacher suggested the compromise of "tun", which everyone agreed, between bursts of laughter, was incredibly reasonable.
written by Ti* H*ghe*, approved by Log

Miss Clarke was a music teacher at my old school in Central Scotland. Her taste in clothes (black mini skirts, tight black sweaters, knee length boots) and her reputation for seducing 6th years SHOULD have ensured her popularity, but she was highly strung and somewhat given to random bouts of corporal punishment (yes, I AM that old, thank you very much).
Music lessons with her usually consisted of us singing quasi-folk tunes to her piano accompaniment. One classic was “Westering Home”, the first stanza of which song runs as follows:

Westering home with a song in the air,
Light in the eye and it’s goodbye to care.


Naturally, the entire class bellowed out "SHITE!" instead of "light", precipitating the biggest piano-lid-slamming, spittle-flecked screaming session the world has ever witnessed.
written by Gu* G*en, approved by Matt