The Law of the Playground
the letter s
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Silent But Deadly, a popular type of fart. Whilst in retrospect volume was never inversely proportional to the actual stench produced, it was generally accepted that the silent ones were the worst, as our elaborate pantomimes after inhalation would attest. Common remarks in the immediate aftermath almost always included, "He who smelt it, dealt it" (q.v.)
Steven Jackson developed quite a penchant for getting good lungfuls of the expelled air, and giving a considered and expert opinion on the quality. We always listened to his judgement.
(The reason this has popped up again seven years on is that the involved party has asked for his friend's name to be changed. We don't think anyone should be passed up for promotion based on their deep, fruity inhalation of other men's farts. But unfortunately we do not live in an ideal world.)
approved Dec 1 2010, submitted Apr 12 2003 by Rob McMeekin
The reverse of the Silent But Deadly was the 'D.B.S' (Dangerous Bottom Syndrome), where the farter tried to make his guff more stealthy by tightly squeezing his bumcheeks together.
However, this often only resulted in a high pitched squeaker or the farter shitting their pants.
approved Jul 20 2007, submitted Feb 28 2006 by Jelly Tot
The 'Schools Christian Assembly Team' who toured Derby, and possibly elsewhere, in the late 80s.

On the night before his death, according to the Christian scriptures, Jesus consecrated bread, wine and chocolate and gave them to his disciples, saying "this is my body", "this is my blood" and "this is my poo-poo". He commanded his followers to repeat this rite in his memory, and the Poocharist traditionally involves consecration of bread, wine and Walnut Whips by the clergy and their consumption by worshippers.

In Roman Catholicism the Poocharist is a cackrament, and the bread, wine and chocolate are thought to become the actual body, blood and ploppies of Jesus through transubstantiation.
approved Aug 10 2006, submitted Aug 4 2006 by pepe le pew, rosy rockets
Particularly vulgar and amusing variant on flashing by Greg, who would expose just his scrotum in public.
Sometimes this would be just casually doing normal stuff like, say, buying sweets at the shop with his scrotum hanging out of his flies as if he hadn't noticed, and sometimes it would be a full on run-up-to-the-granny-pull-the-old-sack-out-whilst-shouting-sack-attack-and-running-away-again routine. Endlessly hilarious and linked to several legendary tales.
approved Feb 23 2003, submitted Jan 24 2003 by barnski *
A saucier variation of "sack attack" was the game of "Bollock". The point of "bollock" was to get as close to possible to your prey, with the jackpot awarded to those who get their bollock to rest on someone's leg.
A "bollock reversal" was terrible but fair, and involved the twisting of an exposed testis. A hit and run approach is advised.
approved Oct 3 2005, submitted Apr 26 2005 by aiden clarkson
A game involving a sharp pencil and extrasensory perception. Named, for some reason, after German worksheets of the same name.
Player A wields the pencil and thinks of a number between 1 and 10. Player B guesses the number. If B guesses correctly, the roles are reversed. If he guesses wrongly, A stabs him in the thigh with the pencil with a shout of "Sag Mal!" for being so fatuous as to suggest a wrong number. Over time you become spookily good at it. Or you end up with very sore thighs.
approved Aug 1 2005, submitted May 25 2005 by Iain Rushworth
Improbable cash-in board game, linking ITV's top presenters with the true story of how the Spanish Armada foundered on the rocks around the coasts of Britain. Suprisingly, Mr Roberts deemed it of sufficient historical value that myself and Andre (its co-creators) were asked to play it on school open night in front of the bewildered parents of prospective pupils.
approved Oct 2 2003, submitted Oct 2 2003 by Paul Heath
Our Home Economics teacher, Miss Munroe, would get the class to chant "salts and sugars are not nutritious" before the start of every lesson.
After school one evening, Miss Munroe was spied by Martin Jenkins gobbling off our sports teacher in the car-park of the local pub.
When she intoned her mantra in class the following day, Martin's reply of "what about the ones in Mr. Johnson's spunk, miss?" was enough to see her scream and run crying from the room. She didn't return to school.
A shame really, as we wanted to know if she'd gone against her own teachings by swallowing.
approved Sep 5 2005, submitted Aug 5 2005 by Nick Hunt
sam
A speech synthesis programme on the Commodore 64 that provides me to this day with my comical "robot malfunction" voice. Oh, you should hear me. I'm such a one.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Jon Blyth
What may seem like a rubbish insult got me in a lot of trouble, because Sandra was a Jehova's Witness, as was the teacher in that class. Why they should be so sensitive about smelling like squirrels is beyond me; unless they, you know... bum them.
approved Dec 10 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Craig Scarratt
Liam Cornelius Kennelly, oblivious to the immaturities of his fellow 6th formers, loudly replied to Phill's claims that he was gay with the unforgettable line:

"Yeah, Phill, I'm really gay"

It was the addition of being "really" gay that made the admission even more shocking. Any gayness we had previously perceived in Liam was clearly only the tip of the gay iceberg.

I mean, even gay people don't admit to being "really" gay, unless they're taking part in some kind gay mating ritual of one-upmanship. Heh. One up man's shit.
approved Nov 28 2005, submitted Nov 24 2005 by toastie de-toast
The form of Satanism which consists of nothing more than memorizing the Lord's Prayer backwards and drawing pentagrams on our New English Bibles.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Matt Bright
Also, using a Ouija Board in an attic (spirits being fond of attics), which would always spell out three quarters of a swear word before someone asked who was pushing it.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Jon Blyth
The real way to raise Lucifer from the pit is to have a load of kids all link pinkies in a big circle, close our eyes and chant "Satan come and scratch us". He actually managed to scratch a few people's faces.
Why he didn't just kill us is beyond me. Maybe he's shy.
approved Dec 14 2002, submitted Dec 13 2002 by Andrew Tyers
It was a well known fact that the devil could be summoned by placing a 10p on a grave at midnight and dancing round it ten times. We were too scared to do this, however, and instead tried using a green fruit pastille and dancing round it five times at midday. Nothing happened.
approved May 13 2003, submitted Dec 21 2002 by Alexander Po
Andrew Hubble informed us that he planned to stay awake until midnight and recite the Lord's Prayer backwards in the hopes of conjuring up Beelzebub himself. When he didn't turn up at school the next day we were naturally concerned that Lucifer had stolen poor Andy away, but he'd just overslept, because he'd stayed up past his bedtime on a school night.
approved Sep 25 2003, submitted Sep 17 2003 by Phil Glansvile
Crazed PE teacher Mr Dolby insisted that the simple act of playing Dungeons and Dragons is the first step on the slippery slope to Satanism.
And, Jim, he was right. As this cartoon shows. Thanks - Log.
approved Dec 16 2003, submitted Dec 1 2003 by Jim Taylor
My friend's dad - a vicar - had to pray to see if she was allowed to go to a Hallowe'en party.
He also prayed to see if she could have a hamster.
approved Jan 19 2004, submitted Dec 22 2003 by Name Withheld
We'd heard from some older kids (who had been taught these things in the fourth year) that if you waited until midnight, went outside and squeezed an orange over a mirror, you would summon the Devil.
It worked too, if you think that a successful Devil-summoning constists of a pleasant smelling mirror and sticky fingers.
approved Apr 15 2004, submitted Mar 10 2004 by Steve M
Has anyone ever come up with a satisfactory name for that paper device thing kids (girls mainly) made to do fortune telling? You'd fold the paper in a certain way to make a pyramid thing you could stick your fingers in. Then you'd approach your testee and ask them, say, their favourite colour. "B-L-U-E" you'd spell out and do something complicated with the paper. The paper thingum would now look a little like vulcan handfanny (q.v). The testee would pick a number from one of the flaps, lift the flap, and it would say something like "You love Luke Goss" or "Your tits smell."
If you have any idea what the fuck I'm blathering about, please write in. You are probably a girl and probably owned a mood ring when you were young.
approved Sep 26 2003, submitted Sep 25 2003 by Susan Tobacco
Although the creature was never officially given a name, he could also be used as an Emu-esque attack pet. Drawing two eyes on him, and a dinky little tongue on the inside, he'd fondly nuzzle on the neck of your victim. Until a foul mood unexpectedly befell him, when his face would horrifically open sideways, seperating his eyes and revealing a set of vicious teeth. Then you would punch your victim with a paper fist, shouting "No, Duncan, NO! Leave him alone!"
approved Sep 26 2003, submitted Sep 26 2003 by Jon Blyth
Here is a guide for anyone wanting to tell their friends they fancy Luke Goss, or attack someone.

  1. Take a sheet of A4. Take the bottom left corner and fold it at 45 degrees so that the bottom side runs exactly along the right side. Cut off the redundant strip off paper that runs along the top. Fold across the other way to create an "X" in folds. The "X" should intersect at the centre of the square.
  2. Fold all four corners "A" in so that the points meet at the centre.
  3. Turn the sheet over. Fold all four corners "B" into the centre, as before.
  4. Fold over line C then unfold line C again (this will make the final stage easier), then fold over line D.
  5. You should now notice four slots, or flaps in one side. Put a thumb and finger of each hand into these slots, or flaps. Pinch together, and with some jiggling the creature should fall into shape.
  6. Decorate as appropriate.
approved Sep 26 2003, submitted Sep 26 2003 by Jon Blyth
ha ha, Log's a GIRL!
approved Sep 26 2003, submitted Sep 26 2003 by Susan Tobacco
Oh, but those things DID have a name. They were called 'cootie-catchers'.
And yes, I owned a mood ring, but it was a GIFT.
approved Sep 29 2003, submitted Sep 26 2003 by anonymous user
Hold on, hold on, Susan. What the fuck is a 'Mood Ring'. I went to an all boys school and have never heard of such a thing. If it magically displays the mood of the wearer, I shall buy one for my wife.
approved Oct 6 2003, submitted Sep 30 2003 by Andy Mansh
Sorry Andy. Mood rings are mood rings in the same way that X-ray specs are X-ray specs i.e not at all. Mood rings, yes, claimed to change with your mood, but would change quick enough by being clamped in a sweaty child hand or licked. Rubbish.
If you've seen the film "My Girl" with Maculay Culkin, you'll know what a mood ring is. You'll also be a girl. Or a gay. Either way you'll already know what a mood ring is, and your wife should really start asking questions about those copies of Mens Health.
approved Oct 7 2003, submitted Oct 6 2003 by Susan Tobacco
Nnnneurrrgh. I like mood rings.
Here's an online one that will tell you you're grumpy every eighth time you click in it.
approved Oct 9 2003, submitted Oct 6 2003 by Nick Hunt
Mood rings magically display the temperature of the wearer I'm afraid. It's always blue. Thrillingly, a good dose of Lynx will turn them temporarily black, and will strip the fake silver from the ring in the next couple of days.

approved Oct 7 2003, submitted Oct 6 2003 by Davy .
Shower-time practice of stretching the scrotum out with both hands until it is perpendicular to the body, causing the genitals to resemble the titular item. Accompanied by a cry of "Sausage on a plate!!"
Most commonly seen in lunchtime rugby practise. Does not go down so well in french lessons.
approved Aug 14 2005, submitted Aug 8 2005 by anonymous user
This can become 'mouse on a trampoline' by bouncing the 'sausage' gently on the 'plate'.

Only a mouse? I'd keep that one quiet if I were you. Oops. Too late. - Matt
approved Mar 19 2006, submitted Mar 10 2006 by Bill Hickock
The distinction between the French words "saucisson" and "saucissez", acording to the Tricolore books, is that one was a "continental" sausage. I have not heard this expression since I was eleven, and any requests for continental sausage in the Co-Op have met with a stony indifference. It did however, form the basis of a bilingual song; "continental sausage / continental sausage / continental sausage / je suis!"
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Jon Blyth
Our German textbooks were narrated by a talking sausage. Enterprising young men - ie everyone - would draw a line across and a line down, ensuring German was taught to following years by a cock in lederhosen.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Peter Gasston
A slogan of the insufferable Paul Gittens, a smug little shit and would-be intellectual. He announced his cod-theory that atoms were made up of tapered, cylindrical sub-particles. Appropriately, he was bullied thoroughly, but this only seemed to bury him in ever more smarminess. There seemed like no way to break him. Eventually, we staged Save Our Tactons Day in which the slogan was chalked onto every available flat surface. He finally cried when someone threw a rugby ball at his head - an inspired irony given the ball's tapered, cylindrical shape.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Old Tom
"Say Red..." says someone.
"Red", you say innocently.
"You wet your bed!" they say to hoots of laughter.
"Say Blue..." they continue.
"Blue." you say, slightly suspicious this time...
"You done a poo!!!!!!"
GRRR! BUT YOU HAVE ONLY YOURSELF TO BLAME.
approved Jul 29 2006, submitted Jul 26 2006 by Zarand Schuller
The more we said "moist" while she was talking, the more increasing was her frustration.
"I know what you're doing!" she told us.
So did we. We were saying "moist" at her.
approved May 5 2005, submitted Nov 29 2004 by The Boy Tucker
A game devised in Year 11, and something of the antithesis of the more subtle game, "fuck". It basically involved going up to Mr. Stove, our Science teacher, and saying the word "fuck" to him.
e.g: "Sir, I'm not sure I understand this equation for measuring acceleration. Fuck."
or "Mr. Stove, can you tell Andrew to leave me alone? Fuck."
"Fuck" had to be said clearly, and could not be disguised in the middle of a sentence, or as part of another word. Not saying "fuck" once you had made your approach resulted in a beating. Mr Stove never reacted in anger. In fact, he hever gave any signs of giving the tiniest shit.
approved Nov 19 2004, submitted Nov 16 2004 by jon james
We had a teacher who had obviously spent far too much time in the sixties and thought it was a good idea to teach us that meanings of words were subjective. "If you don't MEAN it to have a bad meaning, then it DOESN'T!", he would say.
He went on to say that if we said the word 'fuck', and didn't mean 'intercourse', then the word would be meaningless. Which naturally resulted in our entire fifth grade class saying 'fuck' endlessly.
The best part of it all was the fact that if any other teachers heard us and became upset, we could honestly tell them that Mr. Walter had told us it was OK. This eventually resulted in Mr. Walter taking an extended leave of absence. Fuck.
approved Apr 16 2005, submitted Feb 8 2005 by Name Withheld
New pet adopted by Mrs Reeve's class following the sad demise of the elderly Bobby. Tragically killed on his first time out of the cage after being trodden on by promising ballerina Victoria Robinson.
approved Apr 13 2005, submitted Nov 29 2004 by Spooky Dougal
For a role-play exercise in German class, the pupils had to stand in front of the class and display their new-found knowledge of airport vocabulary. After a short terrorist-and-bomb-style exchange, Sean Wensley and Michael Lancaster shouted "Schnell! Schell!" and ran out of the room. Sean never came back to the class. After that, we had no more role-plays.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Phileas
"Schnell, Schnell! Kartoffelnkopf!"
A phrase we picked up from a war movie and thought we'd impress our lady German teacher with. Unfortunately our cries of "Quickly, quickly! Potato head!" did not gain her favour.
Our end of year present of a large chocolate dildo had a much more positive effect.
approved Oct 17 2003, submitted Jan 21 2003 by dj dk
During Commandos, the computer game,the soldiers will say schnell, but also something that sounds like 'Uncle Lester'. This has been part of my German vocabulary for years now, although no-one knows what it means. PS - please help

It's 2011, now. Surely someone can be arsed to download an emulator, play this game, then report back? I know I can't.
approved Nov 24 2003, submitted Oct 19 2003 by Davy .
Without wishing to seem any more of an anal dweeb than I am, wasn't that snatch of German from an Episode of Blackadder Goes Forth? Far less macho than "some war movie", no?
approved Nov 4 2003, submitted Oct 23 2003 by Stuart Laidler