The Worlds Worst Teachers extract

THE WORLD’S WORST TEACHERS

MR PENT’S BALLS

Balls here. Balls there. Balls everywhere. In the playground, footballs, tennis balls and even ping-pong balls would bounce at him from every angle. BOING! BOING! BOING! On spotting one, his eyes would all but pop out of their sockets, his face would go a shade of purple, his glasses would steam up and his comb-over would stick up on end. “BALLS!” Mr Pent would shout as he foamed at the mouth. The teacher’s hatred was so great that he stuck warning signs up all over St Orb’s . On every wall, door and window.

Master Pent didn’t wake up until a whole week later. He discovered he was in hospital with an incredibly sore bandaged head. “OUCH!” he yelped. “My head hurts.” The boy had to keep the bandage on for six whole months, and looked as if he were wearing a nappy on his head. “HA! HA! NAPPY BOY!” laughed the other kids. Ever since the fateful day of his accident, Pent detested balls of any kind. The sight of anything round was enough to bring back terrible memories of that great big steel ball. CLONK ! So, when he grew up and became a Maths teacher, Mr Pent was dismayed to find that in St Orb’s School , where he taught, there were balls, balls and more balls, each one reminding him of the worst day of his life. “HARRUMPH!” he harrumphed.

He even stuck one to the

dinner lady’s

bottom.

NO BALLS ALLOWED IN THE PLAYGROUND!

NO BALLS WHATSOEVER WITHIN A 100-MILE RADIUS OF THE SCHOOL!*

23 * This last rule was hard to enforce, even if, being a Maths teacher, he knew exactly what that one-hundred-mile radius covered on a map, using his compass and ruler, of course.

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