With apologies to Geoffrey Willans and Ronald Searle
@reelmolesworth has been keeping the flame alive much longer than I (GRAMMER). Please follow him if you read and like this.
Exclusiv news…our Head is in a rite bate. As any fule kno st custard’s hav not exactly set the thames alite when it comes to Leage Tables (viz. botom of OFSTED Ryman Leage Div 5 nine yeres running, 0 goles scored, ten points deducted for spending the skool gym referb money on BEER and CIGGIES for masters) but today he sa in a v. loud angry voice that the expetiv deleted govt. is making his life an expletiv deleted misery.
Between you and me it is v. hard to see how any Headmaster coud posibly be more miserible than the one’s we hav sufered since they all lost the Kane. “think positiv, Molesworth” they sa now “theres a gold star in it for you, noble lad! Think of the skool!” What they reely mene is “I want to kane you boy within 1 inch of yr life and i wood to, were it not for Childline (GRAMMER).” Even the skool dog skulks around with a miserible expresion as he is not alowed to bite anyone, not even fotherington-tomas who deserves it if anyone does. Chiz.
In short, life in st custards is prity much the same uter shambles it hav always been only more so and with added inspektions. The Masters are the usual shower of asorted weeds, wets and underacheevers, the skool dinners can only be described from behind a led screne, and then only with a peg on your nose, plus there is never enuff. gillibrand, who wins every sport we can still aford to play (i.e. hopscotch and booles) always gets 1st dibs because he is “a growing lad” and “one day he will reprisent the county” chiz chiz. He is victor ludorum but noone sa that these days because Latin is even deader than usual as noone kno how to teech it. In the good old days Latin Masters were famous for remembering Horace, “I met him once at a dinner party you kno. Fasinating chap.” Now we hav some spoty oik wearing a ranebow loom wristband made by his soppy little sister and boasting about his digeree in Populer Coitture. He woodnt recognise a dative if one danced like Salami in front of him. He cant even translate the skool motto. Q.E.D.
The word on the skool grapevine (i.e. mi best mate Peason) is that the Head recieved a misive from the Governers telling him to do something about terorism. David Cameraman, who is a bigshot VIP in parlaiment with a silver spoon and corgis, wants skools to spot terorists and jihardys early on when they first show up during lessons, e.g. History:
MASTER: Can anyone tell me anything about the American Revolution?
[Noone speak. A dried pea pings off the Masters red vained nose. Larfter all round. At the back of the class Peason high fives grabber, the skool captane and winer of the mrs joyful prize for rafia work.]
MASTER: Anyone? Molesworth? MOLESWORTH?
[I shrug like a Gaul and inspect an imaginery spek of dust on mi fingernale. The American Revolution is beneeth mi keen interlect.]
MASTER: What about you Fotherington-Thomas?
FOTHERINGTON-THOMAS: Sir! The American Revolution sowed the seeds that spawned the Great Satan, sir! The vile infidels were suckled on the breasts of jackals and one day we will wipe them from the very face of the Earth using Allah’s fiery sword! Allahu akbar, sir!
MASTER: Aha! Got you, you latent jihadi! Off to the beak with you, you vile jelly!
In the reel world, of coarse, fotherington-tomas will grow up to be a master, for he is wet and weedy and he skips at the drop of a hat. Peason is already a terorist viz. the time he put molesworth 2’s head down the skool toilet which he had filled to the rim with frogs. Mi bro came away from that gibering like a gibon. He makes me ashamed we share the same jeans. In fact if I had to put anyone in the frame for future terorist it would be him. He is quite beyond the pail. gillibrand wld only be a terorist if they could garantee weakends off for football. grabber will folow his pater into investment banking which is worse than terorism anyway.
Anyway thats all the news for now. Geog. in the skool annexxe awates. Chiz chiz.