More thock nonthenth...(but no Jethie thith time)

Bunty Bow wondered, not for the first time, whether she would be able to continue working evenings teaching overtime in the School for Numpties much longer.

Monkey and Cyclops, on the other hand, had written more in the last hour than they had in months, inspired by Miss Bow's humungous bottom wobbling away as she wrote up impossibly hard sums on the whiteboard.

Monkey likened her arse to 'twa laddies fighting in a sack'. To be fair, her overly-stuffed derrière was the main reason Bunty had dyed her wool black all those years ago. She was under the misapprehension that wearing black was slimming.