by E Day
Today was the first general studies lesson of the term. Tim and Alex arrived early and sat on the front row of desks. In walked Mr Chives.
“Right!” he said in his bellowing voice “ Today we will be discussing business infrastructure. Infrastructure consists of …” and as Mr Chives turned to write on the blackboard a faint bleating was heard from the back of the room. Chives turned to face the pupils.
“Who was that?” he bellowed. Silence. All the boys had innocent faces, “OK. Infrastructure…” and as soon as he turned to write, the bleating started again. This time he ignored it and continued to teach.
“It consists of many things.” As Mr Chives warmed to the theme more noises added to the bleating.
“Rreeeeorre,” someone started mumbling.
“Bobby!” someone shouted.
“Ogive!” another voice cackled.
Soon Mr Chives could not be heard above the din. He whirled to face them again, “Shut up!” Silence. Whilst Mr Chives faced the class, all the pupils again appeared angelic. Butter would not melt in their mouths, or ears. Pleased that he had restored order, Mr Chives turned again to face the blackboard. As he did many pupils re-commenced shouting and began throwing things.
As the din was reaching a crescendo, Chives faced them again.
“Henley! Shut up!”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Henley! Get out!”
“But…”
“Get out Henley!”
“But sir…”
“Get out!”
Alex finally did as he was told. He stood aimlessly in the corridor outside the classroom for a few minutes. After a while he decided to test Mr Chives’s legendary forgetfulness. Tim, who was a master persuader, had convinced Alex of this. He told Alex of stories of his lessons with Chives in earlier years. How pupils would enter a classroom, leave by a back door, and return 5 minutes later, apologising for their lateness.
Alex thought he would give this a try. He knocked on the classroom door, “Come in” bellowed Chives from inside.
Alex did so, “Sorry I’m late Sir.” General uproar in the class, “Reeorree”, “Baaa”, etc were heard from the screaming pupils.
“Henley! Go to Mr Gibbs!” shouted Mr Chives.
Mr Gibbs was the deputy headmaster, responsible for disciplining unruly children; his reputation was fierce. Alex had a sinking feeling, and made a mental note not to believe everything Tim told him in the future. He left the class room, and headed for Mr Gibbs’ office.
While this had been going on, Tim had been thinking, and at the end of the lesson he approached Mr Chives, “Sir?”
“Yes?” he bellowed.
“Um…well this going to sound strange…but…”
“Out with it boy!”
“Well…er…would you like to become one of Roy’s disciples?”
“Get out! Go to Mr Gibbs!”
Tim trudged slowly down the corridor, from the classroom towards Mr Gibbs’s office. He’d never been to see the deputy head for punishment before, and did not know what to expect. It did not seem right to be punished for what he had done, but if it was Roy’s will then he would accept his punishment. He stopped in front of Mr Gibbs’s door and knocked timidly.
“Come in,” said a stern voice from inside.
Tim entered. In front of him Mr Gibbs, a rather non-descript man, whose only distinguishing feature was slightly curly hair, sat behind a desk.“Ah Timothy. I just had your colleague Henley in here. What is this all about?”
“Er…Mr Chives sent me here.”
“And why was that?”
Very quietly: “I asked if he wanted to be one of Roy’s disciples.”
“Pardon? Speak up boy.”
Tim cleared his throat and said clearly: “I asked if he wanted to be one of Roy’s disciples.”
“What is this nonsense?”
“Well Roy told me to recruit 13 disciples.”
“Are you crazy? Who is this Roy?”
“He is brilliant. And…and he takes driving tests for £50.”
“Well that is illegal! Are you impressed by criminal behaviour?”
“He’s no criminal. He is Roy.”
“Listen Timothy. You’re not the sort to get in trouble. Forget about this Roy, and get your act together. I’m afraid I am going to have to put you in detention tomorrow. But if your behaviour improves, and you do not run into any further trouble, I’ll give you one of these.” He opened a desk draw and pulled a badge from it. He showed the badge to Tim. It read: “Well behaved boy”.
“Er…that’s nice.”
“Yes. And if I don’t see you in trouble here again, I’ll let you have it.”
“Thanks. Can I go now?”
***
Another teacher the lads liked was Mr Pickering. At break times they would sit on a bench near the staffroom and each time Pickering walked past they would hum a tune ‘bom di dom di dom di dom’ it went.That lunchtime Mr Pickering was walking past again.
“BOM DI DOM DI DOM DI DOM,” shouted Alex at the top of his voice.
Pickering walked over.
“Who was making that noise?”
“What noise?” grinned Alex .
“YOU KNOW WHAT NOISE! GO TO MR GIBBS!” Shouted Pickering even louder. And Alex did with his tail metaphorically between his legs. In reality he had no tail, and tailless he found himself waiting outside Mr Gibbs’s office. Again.
Book of Tim’s mum, Chapter 1 Verses 5-7
And Timothy’s mum did hold dominion over Timothy’s house. And she did scold her children lest they stray from the path of righteousness. And she was happy with her son Ray-mond, but her seventh son Timothy did vex her mightily. It was that Alex boy’s fault. And Timothy did tell his mum what had happened that day for he was late because of his detention. And Tim’s mum did blame Alex, “That Alexander Boy just doesn’t know where to draw the line. I’ll bet he’d pull out all the plugs in your bedroom Timothy, given half a chance.”
“Yes mum.”
“Are you wearing a vest?”
“No.”
“Didn’t I tell you to wear a vest? You’ll catch your death.”
As Alex left, Tim asked: “Mr Pickering?”
“Yes?” snapped the still seething teacher.
“Well I’ve been set a task by Roy…”
“Who is Roy?”
“Well he is a supreme being who is brilliant, and a great driver. But what he wants is for me to recruit him 13 disciples.”
“Why are you telling me this?”, said a still angry Pickering.
“I…I was wondering if you would like to be one of Roy’s disciples?”
“No I would not! I will not be made fun of! Go to Mr Gibbs, and tell him why I sent you!” he shouted.
***
Tim knocked on Mr Gibbs’s door. Again.
“Come in”.
Tim entered. Again.“Ah Timothy. I just had your colleague in here,” said Mr Gibbs. Again, “What is this all about this time? Who sent you?”
“Er…Mr Pickering this time.”
“Was this something to do with Roger and his disciples again?”
“Roy.”
“Yes Roy. Tell me Tim is this some sort of…” Gibbs’s face turned red “…relationship you have with this Roy?”
“No!” As he spoke Mr Gibbs’s desk started to shake slightly.
“MR GIBBS.”
“Yes?”
“IT’S ROY. TIM IS NOT GAY AND NOR AM I. I LIKE THE LADIES.”
“Timothy why are you pretending to be Roy by talking loudly and covering your mouth?” asked Gibbs.
“I…I’m not. What about the desk?”
“You pushed it. Why did Mr Pickering send you here?“
“I asked him if he wanted to be one of Roy’s disciples.”
“I see. Listen I do not want to see you here again. Forget all this nonsense about Roy. You will not find Roy’s disciples amongst the teachers in this school, do you
hear me?”
“Can I go now?”
“Yes, but you know what this means? You will not be leaving with the badge, I’m afraid.” Tim got up and walked out of Gibbs’s office. He was glad Gibbs had forgotten to give him another detention, but he was disappointed about the badge. One day he, Tim, would make his own good behaviour badge. That would show Mr Gibbs and all those who laughed at him. Although it would not show them much.
A few moments after Tim left Gibbs’s office, there was another knock at the door.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and in walked Rastas. He was dressed in a black bin bag with the letters AC on the front.
“Who are you?” asked Gibbs.
“I’m Rastas. I’m a pupil here.”
“Why are you wearing a bin bag?”
“It’s an Aylesbury Comprehensive blazer.”
“It doesn’t look like one. Is this something to do with this Roy nonsense?”
Rastas eyes narrowed. He thought about striking Gibbs, but controlled himself.
“Can you kill Roy?”
“What do you mean?”
“Can you kill Roy?”
“I don’t even know who he is!”
“Hmmm…Can you kill that pupil who was just in here?”
“No.”
“But he stole my lunch money.”
“No.”
“I’ll give you £5.”
“No. Now get out of here or you will be in detention all week.”
“Can you kill Roy?”
“No.”
“Will you join my army to defeat Roy?”
“Hmmm…well I’d certainly be happier not hearing about him any more. Roy does seem to be causing my pupils to behave in odd ways. As a teacher I have sworn an oath to renounce violence. I can put people in detention though, “
“That would be a start” said Rastas, “And if you do this for me I will make you head master of all schools in Aylesbury.”
“How would you do that?”
“I can do anything. Watch.” Rastas waved his arm and some magician’s flowers appeared.
”Wow! OK. What do you want me to do?”
***
The next day Alex was given lines for talking in the library whilst drunk by Mr Derren. Mr Derren did not know he was drunk, at least he did not mention it, but he gave him lines all the same. Alex was drunk at school quite often, drinking home made wine from a plastic bottle.
Tim saw in Alex a soul that needed saving.
They were hanging out at lunchtime, sitting on some steps leading up to the school lecture theatre. Alex looked bored.
“Listen,” said Tim, “You don’t need to drink so much. I work with a guy called Roy…”
“Oh yeah?” Said Alex immediately perking up. It was always entertaining to make fun oTim’s exaggerated descriptions of people and events.
“Yeah his name’s Roy…”
“He does sound great,” said Alex encouragingly.
“Yeah yeah he is…” the enthusiasm drained from Tim’s voice, “Are you taking the piss?”
“No no. Tell me more about Roy.”
“Well I feel a bit silly saying this, but he is brilliant. He’s got this massive stereo and he takes peoples driving tests for fifty quid.”
“Does he have any special powers like the X Men?”
“I thought you’d take the piss.”
“No I really believe some bloke who works in a factory, with you, is brilliant,” said Alex sarcastically.
“No he’s different…”
“You really love him don’t you? Have you bummed him yet?”
And then the air began to shake.
“ALEX. IT’S ROY!”
“How did you do that?” Alex asked Tim nervously.
“It’s not me it’s Roy.”
“YES IT’S ME. I AM ROY AND YOU MUST NOT CALL ME A BENDER.”
“Why…where… where are you?”
“He lives in Southcourt,” southcourt was a council estate in Aylesbury.
“NO! I DON’T LIVE IN SOUTHCOURT. I AM ALL AROUND YOU. I AM EVERYWHERE. I SEE ALL FOR I AM ROY AND I AM MIGHTY.”
“So are you there when I’m at home watching TV?” asked Alex, disbelievingly.
“YES. YOU WATCHED BLUE PETER LAST NIGHT.”
“Er…so what about when I’m in the bath?”
“I COULD WATCH, BUT I DO NOT, AS I AM NOT GAY. ALEX YOU MUST HELP TIMOTHY FIND DISCIPLES.”
“What do you mean? Why should I do what you say?"
“TIMOTHY WILL EXPLAIN WHAT YOU NEED TO DO. YOU MUST DO IT OR THE WRATH OF ROY WILL BE UPON YOU. WATCH THIS,” suddenly the stairs they were sitting on started to shake.
“What you’ll shake the stairs?”
“NO IT WAS JUST A TASTER OF WHAT I MIGHT DO IF YOU DO NOT OBEY ME.”
Alex pondered this for a moment, “Listen you expect me to just start looking for disciples for you for no reason?”
“YES. TIM DID.”
“Well he is more impressionable than I am, more willing to be lead.”
“More sheep-like.” Helped Tim.
“Exactly. Whereas I like to think of myself as rebellious.”
“BUT YOU’RE NOT REALLY.”
“I…I am.”
“THEN WHY ARE YOU DOING THE A LEVELS YOU NEED TO GET A JOB AS AN ACCOUNTANT?”
“How…how did you know?”
“I AM ROY! I KNOW ALL ABOUT A LEVELS. AND ACCOUNTANCY.”
“Mm that’s an interesting career choice – accountancy,” mocked Tim.
“Better than food preparation.”
“No it’s not.”
“ANYWAY, WILL YOU FIND ME DISCIPLES?”
“Go on Alex – it’ll be brilliant.”
“No.”
“THEN I WILL KILL YOU WITH A LAZERBOLT.”
“Oh…OK then yes... What’s a lazerbolt?” but Roy had gone and the only evidence that he had even been there was the slight shaking of the lecture theatre steps.
“What was all that about?”
“You have to help me find disciples.”
“Yeah right!”
“No you do,” said Tim angrily, “Or Roy will punish you.”
“Oh yeah I forgot. So what do I do?”
“We need to discover disciples for Roy.”
“Is this some sort of cult?"
“No. I know it seems strange but…here read this.” He proffered a stack of stapled papers that he had pulled from his trousers.
“What’s that?”
“It’s something I have written inspired by Roy’s divine guidance. It’s called the Royble.”
“Why was it in your trousers?”
“To keep it warm. Now take it home, and read it; then you will understand. But don’t lose it, because I don’t have another copy.”
“If I did lose it, couldn’t Roy just magic another copy?”
“I don’t know, and I do not wish to test Roy.”
“You’re mental believing this crap.”
“Did you not feel Roy’s mighty powers?”
“It was just you with your hand over your mouth pretending to be Roy.”
“It wasn’t! And what about the steps shaking?”
“Hmmm don’t know about that. But it still does not make me believe Roy is magical like David Copperfield.”
“The book?”
“No the magician.”
“Roy’s not a magician; he is divine. We must follow him and worship him and find him 13 disciples.”
“You’re crazy. Still I will read this tonight for a laugh.”
“I’m going to badminton tonight. Wanna come?”
“Nah I have to read the Royble” Alex said smirking.
***
That night Alex was bored as usual. He seemed to be bored, drunk or both most of the time. Now he was sober and bored. He decided to read – probably his favourite pastime.
He pulled something out of his pocket. It was the Royble. He had forgotten all
about it despite the fact it was only a few sentences ago and you’d think he would remember the lecture theatre experience, “Tim is such a sucker sometimes,” he thought, “I bet he read some stupid book about Roy, like the usual Bermuda triangle, alien spaceman ancestor stuff he reads. I wonder if chickens can wear spacesuits.” The last odd thought faded as he started to read the Royble, “The earth was without purpose,” he read, “what a bunch of nonsense,” but as he read more he started to become interested. Soon he could not stop reading; yes it was all becoming clear. Roy had made the earth and Aylesbury and HE was the one to take peoples driving tests for the reasonable price of fifty pounds. Alex stayed up all night reading the Royble and as soon as he finished it, he immediately began reading it again, but he got bored because he had just read it, so he stopped. Now he knew his purpose in life – it was not to become an accountant, it was to find disciples for Roy. Just as this revelation hit him the doorbell rang. It was Matt and Dave.
“Alright lads.”
“Alright,” said Dave.
“Wanna come down the pub?” asked Matt.
“No. Listen: I have something to tell you.” And after 8 hours of lectures, tutorials and role playing, he had convinced Dave and Matt of Roy’s greatness too.
Chapter 5. Mungo
Book of Mungo’s French Holiday, Chapter 1 Verses 1-4
At the time of harvest Tim spake unto his friends saying “Let’s go on holiday to France”. And his friends were vexed by this for many did not have enough money nor the inclination. And Tim said to them: “But Mungo is coming on this holiday. Thou will regret not coming for four score years”. And there was much wailing and cries of “Mungo’s a dick”. And one man spoke up. His name was Alex and he said unto Tim: “I will go with you”. And because Tim was a good man he let Alex come with even though Alex had smote Tim’s mum’s lamp that had cost much money (about £5,000 so I heardeth).
And thus it came to pass that these three men did travel to France. And Mungo’s beard came too. And Mungo said unto everyone “brrr...Citroen vans...brrr...roofchops”. And he was boring.
At this time Tim had a great hunger and did eat some yoghurt. When seeing this Mungo asked of him: ”Pissed on yoghurt again eh Tim?” Hearing this Tim knew that Mungo was the number one disciple.
And Tim and Alex did place many things in Mungo’s sleeping bag to reward him. They placed things that crawled on the face of the earth and things that swam in the ocean and things that flew in the air and other stuff that we won’t go into. And Roy saw this and said “DOES ANYONE NEED A DRIVING TEST?” for Roy couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Tim decided to test Mungo for it was Roy’s desire, probably. And Tim sent Mungo to the bank (see the Book of Adrian) to ask for 50-franc notes yet telling him the French for “I have a ginger beard”. And Mungo passed this test for the bank employee understood him, and Mungo said “shambapoo” for he knew he had done well in the eyes of Roy, and Roy’s stereo.
