The actual name of our GCSE Biology textbook.
Check here if you don't believe me.

When breaking in to your school during the holidays, in order to steal, deface the headmasters office and generally add some excitement to another muggy summers day in a quiet market town - remember to cover your tracks.
Whatever you do, do not bury your swag of multi-coloured marker pens in the school ground under some leaves. Not underground - under a few fucking leaves.
I would also advise that you don't write your name all over the boxes in multi coloured felt-tip, in order to test them out.
When the stash was found, and the police were called, it was lucky they had Sherlock fucking Holmes on their team. It didn't take him long to figure out the culprit, and I was consigned to three days suspension, which let me catch up on some serious Let's Go Maths!.

A favourite of mine was getting the cat to provide us with a show of breakdancing. This is easily achieved by simply putting a piece of Sellotape on each paw. A sock on the head will give it that "Catz in the Hood" gangsta rapper look.

The other variation is to get an old 240v to 12v transformer, get a load of friends to hold hands in a line. The two at the ends of the line hold on to one wire each from the 240v side, whilst you attach the other two wires (the 12v side) to a battery. Nothing happens, until you remove one wire from the battery. Hey presto! Everyone leaps a couple of inches off the floor. Depending on the transformer and the battery you use, will determine
a) how high they jump, and
b) how hard you get punched.
If you really balls-up your combination, it is quite possible that some or all of your friends may well die, but what the hell - if you're prepared to electrocute someone, then they're probably not that close to you anyway.

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.

A variation on beats. A comb, usually plastic, would be heated with a lighter and then combed through the victims hair, who would have a burnt scalp and crappy lumps of melted plastic stuck in his hair.

We had a similar gang which purported to go out beating up grannies, which none of us actually did. Which led to the formation of the ill-fated two piece rock group Granny Initiative. We recorded a demo and sent it off to EMI, but amazingly they weren't blown away by our covers of Imagine and Jealous Guy, for which we put pillows over the speakers of my stereo (to muffle the vocals), while I sang over the top and the other member played drums. We were 8.

Ours was 'I Prefer Masturbation Any Time', and people could be heard muttering it throughout our biology exam.

"You can't hit me on my BCG," declared my younger sister confidently, "it's too small."
I fucking could. First try. YES.

I was the sad child who dilligently worked out the order in which to feed the dragons to beat the puzzle in the fewest number of moves. I still remember it today: Buns, Lollies, Oranges, Chocolate (or BLOC). You may commence the wedgies.