Last night I had a dream! To some that may usher alarm-bells; to others perhaps some intrigue. Either way if you are brave enough to read on, then perhaps, disclaimers aside, this may bring a little light humour to your busy day.

I suddenly found myself in the playground, perspiring and confused. I reached to scratch my chin and indeed I did still have a beard. I looked down and to my surprise I was only wearing my underpants! Jeez, this was embarrassing, ‘still’, I thought to myself, ‘at least this is all on zoom’!

Then, rather abruptly, Miss Hart approached and took the papers from my satchel.

“What’s this Reader?!” she enquired.

“It’s my homework Miss,” I replied looking rather coy.

“But you haven’t done any. And what you have done is peppered with spelling and punctuation mistakes!”

She was right; I had no defence. If ever there was a ‘word smith’ it was her. She had me cornered and I needed a distraction.

“BREAK OUT TIME!” shouted Miss Sugar, the Headmistress.

As I looked to the heavens, my prayers had been answered. Low and behold an Angel stood before me, his head shining like a golden halo- it was Malcolm! His calm demeaner had come to bring order to the gathering chaos. And chaos it was. The playground had transcended into Brownian motion. Kids flying in all directions.

“Dundelova you seem happy with yourself; where do you think you’re going?!” Miss Sugar demanded.

Dundelova smiled politely and ran to the various corners of the playground, followed closely by Drummond, who pretended to be zooming in his car.

The ray of light that had sharply focused on the ever-composed Malcolm was coming from a red phone box over by the long jump pit.

“That’s strange!” announced Claire, who was holding a clip board, observing the foray of the unfolding events.

“Strange indeed,” seconded Alex, who duly noted the name.

The phone box had drawn quite a crowd and inside was a bright, smiley young lady with frizzy blonde locks. She had laid out a couple of deckchairs on the sand. All the kids seemed desperate to jump into the paddling pool and play; it was as though they had been locked away for months.

As the kids assembled, Tom took charge in organising the children into an orderly line. He was so nice it was impossible for the children not to oblige.

Meanwhile Pete had come down from the library where he had been studying while the kids were playing. He was joined by Drummond and Dundelova, who picked him up in their zoom car to race across the playground. Dundelova was sure she had a solution to the whole car thing.

“Come on Jason, jump in!” she shouted, smiling enthusiastically.

Jason reluctantly downed tools, from fixing the play shed, to join the cohort.

“STOOPP!” exclaimed Peter

Drummond slammed on the breaks, squealing to a halt, narrowly missing the School Principal Mr Legg.

“What’s that?!”

“That’s Mr Legg, you idiot,”

“No, not who’s that, what’s that?!”

Mr Legg was rambling at such speed that he failed to notice the 37000 followers pursuing him as he swiftly marched to his next appointment.

“Guys, guys, I’ve had an idea!”

It was Schwaaabbbb; he was completely animated. The cohort couldn’t help but be in awe of his excited demeanour. Whatever the idea was, it was sure to be a good one. The small crew were short on both time and space so conveniently elected to dump Schwaab in the boot. Incredibly this failed to dampen his spirits and his muffled vocals rallied in tune with the engine murmurings coming from Drummond as he channelled the zoom car towards the pit.

As they approached the playing-field they could see the serious, disciplined, army guys going through the motions; they weren’t so easily assuaged by Blake’s Costa Del sand pit. Jim had amassed a sizeable and intimidating Rugby squad; this was not a time for playground antics. On the other side of the pitch was Luke, who had his own small gathering and was actively recruiting for an elite boot-camp. In the distance on the triple-jump pit, Mather had set up his own little holiday destination, which he called, ‘Antigua’.

Everyone seemed to be having so much fun, then suddenly it was time to return to the classroom. The cohort raced back across the playground, attempting to match Drummond and Dundelova in their zoom car, only to be greeted by a stony-faced Miss Sugar.

“Who is responsible for this?”

Miss Sugar thrust her hand forward and presented the class with a bottle of Coca-cola.

The class looked on in silence, hiding behind the zoom car.

“Anyone? Anyone?”

The eerie quiet, was broken by Silvia, who anxiously raised her hand. Silvia was the ‘teacher’s vet’ (groan). She always knew the answers and was always the first to hand in her assignments on time. She was perfect in every way, and that’s how she liked things to be- perfect.

This time, however, it was Steve who would get his say.

“It was Miss Hart Miss. I saw her, she was trying to hide it from you!”

“Well Lexi, is this true?!” Miss Sugar was dumbfounded.

Miss Hart calmy placed her hand into her bag and presented Miss Sugar with the bottle. On it, written in big bold letters, were the letters: S.T.E.V.E

Miss Sugar had no option but to issue Steve with a detention.

“Steve is clearly a trouble-maker. Hence force he shall be banned from sharing any of his screen activity with the class. Let this be a lesson to you children,” instructed Miss Sugar. “Jesus, please ensure Reader’s computer is blocked.”

Jesus kindly obliged and headed back to the computer room with such haste that a wire appeared to pop from his head- perhaps the rumour that he was indeed an android was true?!

With his head bowed low, and after a private word with the headmistress, Steve returned to the classroom, where the children were once again running around in chaos clutching their heads.

“WHY?” demanded Miss Chorlton-Voong.

“But I don’t understand Miss,” replied Steve.

“Are you taking the mickey out of my Scottish accent Reader?!”

“No Miss. It’s just you’re confusing me with your acronyms- is this one?”

“No Reader! Why, as in Why. What’s your Why?! Why, why, why, why, why?!”

Miss Chorlton-Voong was not giving up and as Steve gazed around the classroom for inspiration it would seem all the pupils had now been driven to tears. Peter was consoling a number of children at the back of the classroom and Cara had decided that now would be a good time to allow the children some respite and had formed her own group diffusing the stress and anxiety.

Claire’s timing was impeccable as she announced for the class to take an early lunch.

The dinner hall seemed awkwardly vacant and the walls had been clad with Google Posters, each crossed through with a large X. Hungry and famished from the intense brain-bashing of the morning, the cohort once again formed an orderly line instructed by Head-boy Tom.

“Mitch what are you doing? And why are you wearing pyjamas? Get in line.”

Mitch sat in his Directors chair, looking rather cool and smiling as he always does.

“Hey Dude, I’m like chilling. Just grabbing some waves and California dreaming.”

Mitch was still half asleep, but rather importantly had been assigned to film a new advert for a well-known brand. Apparently, the company were concerned about the product filtering into the post student realm. They needed to re-affirm the product as being student only!

“What is it Mitch?!” asked Silvia enthusiastically.

“See for yourself,” piped up Jenny, who was now standing behind the counter and dressed in a chef’s uniform, clearly playing a starring role in the advert.

The cohort looked on, and there before them was presented a banquet of……………………………………………………POT NOODLES………..AAAARRRGGGHHH!!!

Wake up…cold sweat.

(Apologies if I’ve missed anyone out and for any errors, but I’ve run out of time. I am quite possibly bonkers and apologise also if I have caused any offence. My intention is just to bring a little fun to life, especially when it can all be so serious. If you weren’t all such wonderful characters, then life would be so dull. Watch out for the Xmas Nativity story. Not sure who will play the role of the donkey!)

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