Fairy Hanny

It is with great sadness that I have to relate the story of the death of my beloved Headmaster, Mr Christopher Peacock.

He was, as usual, interfering in a part of the school he knows nothing about, trying his best to see what kind of learning takes place in a subject he does not comprehend. Still, it gave him another opportunity to fill in a form that would make it look as though he was doing his job.

In this case he had wandered into the Chemistry Laboratory to see how the senior students were progressing. Of course being one of those thick skulled administrators he didn’t have a chance at understanding the difference between a mole and a birth mark. But he looked busy, even though the students treated him with utter contempt; after all it was the Headmasters initiatives that were driving away all of the best teachers.

Being a few sandwiches short of a picnic, Mr Peacock started fiddling with a bottle of unlabelled Chemicals whilst in the vicinity of a Bunsen burner. Nobody quite knows what happened but there was a huge bang, a flash and a dead Headmaster.

The burns were quite severe; his face was unrecognisable. The Coroner had to have someone identify the body, and as Mr Peacock was a dedicated single man it fell upon the lot of two of his Senior teachers to come and help identify him.

First in the room was his drinking buddy Roger Title. The Coroner warned Mr. Title that it was an unpleasant and shocking sight. The Coroner pulled back the covering to show the badly scorched face.

“Is this Mr. Chris Peacock?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” said Roger. “Could you roll him over?”

A strange request but the Coroner obliged.

“No that can’t be Chris,” said Roger and left the room.

The next member of the gang was invited in, Mr Stephen Butts, another drinking pal of no fixed intelligence.

“Is this Mr. Chris Peacock?”  asked the Coroner.

“I’m not sure,” said Steve. “Could you roll him over?”

Again this seemed an odd request, But the Coroner, being a good public servant, did as requested.

“No that can’t be Chris,” said Steve and left the room.

The Coroner of course was quite curious as to how the two members of the elite Senior Leadership Team could be so certain that this could not be Chris peacock. After all the ambulance had brought the body straight from the startled school.

“How you be so sure that isn’t Chris Peacock just by looking at his back?” asked the intrigued surveyor of the dead.

“Well,” explained Steve, “Every time the three of us would walk into the Staffroom someone would say ‘Here comes Chris with the two arseholes’.”