Jiminy

If there was one thing Jiminy wasn’t good at, it was public speaking. Actually, if there was anything Jiminy actually showed an actual talent for, he hadn’t discovered it in his sixteen years trying to make his mark on the planet. So it would be fairer to say “public speaking is amongst the many things Jiminy has no aptitude for whatsoever”. It seemed bizarre that he would volunteer himself for any public speaking whatsoever.
He had his reasons however.
His reason had a name. Her name was Rachel. What better reason that a six-foot-one blonde with a body that would give the teenage boy the bends? And what better way to impress said reason than to deliver a hilarious comedy routine in front of virtually the entire student body of  Milton Forthwards Grammar School… or so he thought at the time.
Every year, the school would create an excuse to throw a large assembly to improve student morale and reduce the quota of drugs and home-made knives that filtered round the school. Last year was the 1st annual “Staff Talent Contest” featuring many of the Teachers, admin staff and even the Janitor trying in vein to keep together a Medley of scenes from Robert Stigwood films. The commodious behind of the Head Mistress, Miss Etheridge straining to keep inside ill fashioned satin trousers whilst trying to deliver a rousing rendition of “You’re the one that I want” from “Grease” was talent in itself. Whilst the Janitor, Mr Skegg trying to “bust a move” in true Travolta-style along to a mixed tape of Bee Gees hits didn’t really turn many students on to any kind of 70s revival nostalgia. Rumour has it that the drug and home-made knife quota went up by 23% within the first half hour of the production. Seeing their mistake, the management decided to head a different direction.
After putting a suggestion box in the middle of the foyer for the students to express their own ideas for the upcoming assembly, the general consensus was that the assembly include a performance from a current celebrity. As luck would have it, The Drama teacher, Mrs Douglas, had attended Acting classes with a popular comedian by the name of Andre Preston. Andre had decided to shun his parents wishes for him to follow in the Preston family business of Pallet making in favour of stand up comedy. After several years trying to make it, Andre won first place in the National Comedy Stand-Offs held once a year. He was then given a presenters job on the now defunct Digital Television channel UK Jibberjabber. He had been appearing at low-end public events between jobs. Shortly after agreeing to be the headliner for Milton Forthwards 1st annual “Laugh In” he had scored a new deal appearing beside several other comedians in a light hearted “weird for the sake of weird” TV sitcom on terrestrial television.  Nevertheless, Andre felt obliged to honour his commitment to Miss Douglas after she emotionally blackmailed him by reminding him of a tryst they had shared in college which ended in a near termination (little Johnny Douglas is now a thriving member of Milton Forthwards Junior School’s soccer team.)
The announcement that Andre was to perform at the assembly was made during a study period. Jiminy had been trying his hardest to remember some of the more well known elements of the periodic table (he had been laughed out of his chemistry class the day before after saying Earth, Wind, Fire, Water and Milla Jovovich.) but the announcement caught his attention nonetheless. 
The classroom erupted in cheering when Andre’s upcoming performance was announced. The rest of the announcement outlined the days events.  Andre was to headline a comedy afternoon wherein several students would be given the chance to stretch their own comedic muscles and perform a routine. The three provisos of entry were: No swearing, routines must be ten minutes or under, and each performer must pay an entry fee of £20 which put together will serve as a prize for the best amateur stand-up comic of the day.
Jiminy carried on trying to remember the periodic Table. He tried to think of different ways to remember the most important ones. For example he associated gold with the Rolling Stones hit “Get Off My Cloud” (“A, U, Get off my cloud” etc.) Just then, his lady love’s image drifted past his peripheral vision and her perfume drifted past his suddenly-gaping nostrils. She was chatting to one of her friends about the announcement.
“There’s nothing sexier than a man who can make you laugh.” Asserted Rachel.
“Well, there speaks a girl who’s never gone further than tongues!” her friend replied.
Jiminy looked her friend up and down and tried his hardest to fathom who would go further than tongues with the behemoth in front of him. “Perhaps she’s got a good brain in her head” Jiminy thought, diplomatically.
“There’s nothing like a good stiff Dick on a Saturday night in my opinion, especially if you don’t know who it belongs to!” the Behemoth proudly stated. Jiminy retracted his thought quickly.

The bell rang. Jiminy packed his things and headed down the corridor. Rachel’s statement stuck in his head. Perhaps if he were to enter, and subsequently win the talent show he could also win the affections of his crush. It was worth a try anyway as far as Jiminy was concerned. After all, he’d never tried comedy before. He might be a Dark Horse.
“If I were hung like a Dark Horse then I could pull Rachel’s friend” he thought to himself, filing that thought away for future material for his comedy performance.
During lunch. Jiminy outlined his plans to his best friend Matthew. Who laughed at him and not with him.
“you’re not serious are you?  It’s social suicide mate!” Matthew gasped between chuckles.
“Face” had always been important to Matthew. Especially in the past few years. He and Jiminy had been best friends ever since they were old enough to tell the difference between boys and girls. But, whereas Matthew’s reputation in school had grown in a positive way (He was the fastest runner in the county and spent a lot of time training on the school playing fields but still finding time to maintain good grades and socialise with the best of ‘em!) Jiminy’s had not. Matthew was tall, conventionally good looking and had been one of the first boys in his year to cross the great vaginal divide and be deflowered by a female. (Mrs Evans no longer works for the school and Matthew was given free lunches for a year to keep the illicit rendezvous a secret . That perk was subsequently taken away from him after he posted details of his affair in his blog on a well known social networking site that was a lot more well known than he had banked on.)
Habit had kept these two boys lifelong chums. Matthew had tried in vein on several occasions to boost Jiminy’s credibility, going as far as to start referring to Jiminy as “Jam” to make him look like a music enthusiast. The rouse ended after “Jam” was handed a copy of  “Led Zeppelin IV” at a party and enquired whether or not the aged man on the front was the host’s grandfather. Matthew also tried to get Jiminy onto the school’s football team by offering his own services to the team despite his own busy training schedule.  Jiminy, not a natural sportsman, arrived on the pitch wearing a raincoat and Wellington boots and was quickly shown the gate. Despite this, Matthew had nothing but time for his hapless buddy.  This however, was something Matthew could not help him with.
“The least you could do is show some Fuckin’ support, mate!” Jiminy cried.
“I’m sorry Jiminy, but if you think I’m gonna encourage you to make a complete Twat of yourself in front of everyone then you got another thing coming!” Matthew replied.
Jiminy realised then that he had more to prove than he thought. He had seen it many times before in several of his classes. The awkward fat kid with crazy hair and Jam-Jar specs using humour to diffuse tensions between him and the bullies of the class. (This tactic proving so popular that that Fat kid went on to become the first student in the school to have  an impromptu wet T-Shirt contest in his honour during the school disco’s after party.) If he could use humour to gain popularity, so could Jiminy.

Jiminy could think of nothing else but winning that contest.  His mind became completely obsessed and prioritised that thought over any others, having a knock on effect. Jiminy was laughed out of his chemistry class once again after being asked to name the periodic symbol for gold and started bellowing out “(I can’t get no) Satisfaction” in confusion. Luckily for him this was his last class of the day. He headed home to work on his routine.
Unfortunately he still had to work within the confines of the competition’s rules. The first one he had to work on was his loose tongue.  He swore like the son of a Docker. He was in fact, the son of a Docker which didn’t help matters in the slightest. The ten minute restriction was to work in Jiminy’s favour, being a first timer it would be highly over ambitious to expect any more. The last thing to worry about was the entry fee.
“If you think I’m gonna Fuckin’ give you Twenty Fuckin’ quid to make a Fuckin’ fool of yourself in front of the whole Fuckin’ school you’re as Fuckin’ stupid as you look. Now go and clean the Fuckin’ rain gutters like you’re mother Fuckin’ asked you to last Fuckin’ week!” were the exact words emanating from his fathers lips upon request for the entry fee. Jiminy needed the money, and fast. The closing date for the entry was in four days time.

That night, Jiminy couldn’t sleep. He had way too much to think about. His care-free mind had conjured up grandiose visions of the entire school howling away after he delivered quip after quip on stage whilst Rachel looked on admiringly with animal lust in her eyes. In a fit of inspired rage he grabbed a pen and pad and jotted down ideas for his routine. He began to think about what people found funny. He remembered a joke that he had heard when he was younger concerning a nun with hiccups. (The joke runs: How do you cure a nun’s hiccups? Tell her she’s pregnant.) He chuckled to himself and was glad he did not go to a predominantly catholic school. He entertained thoughts of mounting the stage dressed in full priest regalia. “Now THAT would get a laugh!” he reckoned to himself.
After designing his costume in his head he eventually dropped off. He awoke with a sense of purpose. He needed Twenty pounds or his dreams would be shattered. He had no job and nothing of any value to sell or pawn. He was going to have to ask Matthew for the money. Matthew had a part-time job in a local Bar and Restaurant named Raidy Rays. (The owners name was Raidy Smith, not Ray as most people thought upon first meeting.) Matthew had tried on one occasion to secure Jiminy a job there but he failed a basic hygiene inspection. (His nails had mud underneath them from digging for a box of  “treasure” he convinced himself he had buried when he was Four years old. Unfortunately his memories had become mingled with another experience and he ended up resurrecting the decayed corpse of his childhood cat, Miles. The fact that Jiminy was still crying about this discovery whilst he went for his interview also contributed to his failure.) Matthew worked there on Saturdays and always had a few extra quid on him. But would asking him garner the same reaction as his father had given him. He wasn’t entirely supportive the other day when Jiminy first told him of his great plans. But he was Jiminy’s best friend and had gone over and above in the crusade to raise Jiminy’s popularity in the past. Some of which Matthew had laid down cold hard cash for. (Matthew had sought to improve his wardrobe by buying him clothing with “Gangsta” afflictions. Including a Bandana which Jiminy wore as a Neckerchief. Combined with a Kangol hat which Jiminy wore as a makeshift Beret, Matthews plans had proven, yet again, unsuccessful.)  All he could do was ask. What’s the worst that could happen? Would he be laughed at yet again? He could take that. Wouldn’t be the first time, and if he plays his cards right for the competition, it wouldn’t be the last either.
He found Matthew behind the Gym. He was attempting to chat up three well endowed female Hockey players at once and largely succeeding (thus diminishing Jiminy’s suspicion that female Hockey players are all Dykes.) He decided to wait till his friend had secured at least one date before going over and destroying Matthew’s credibility by knowing him. (Even though Jiminy was mostly clueless, he was well aware that he repelled women like a Traffic Warden repels respect!)
Eventually  two of the girls handed over their digits and the third had to confess she didn’t have a phone. (Her father was an obese ex fisherman from Manchester who had been out of work due to his weight. He tried to sell his story to the local newspaper but, as you would suspect, his story was neither heart-wrenching nor interesting in the slightest. Subsequently he could not afford his daughter luxuries like a mobile phone. Or a landline for that matter. From the state of her clothes you could have easily jumped to the conclusion that she had walked blindfold into Oxfam and grabbed the first five items that she had come across. A suspicion Jiminy had but never voiced. Despite being a pauper, she was still gorgeous and popular.) Jiminy walked over to Matthew and asked for the money. There was no time for pussy-footing so the question was very direct. Jiminy needed the cash, and fast. He promised to split the prize money he was sure to win with Matthew and that Matthew should think of this as an investment. Matthew reached for his wallet and handed Jiminy a crisp £20 note, amid sounds of mirth and pity.
Jiminy rushed to the School office, where the secretary was taking the names and fees of the entrants. Upon submission he was asked for his name. Just as he was about to give his own name, he realised that his name would be on posters all around the school. He didn’t want to put up with people jeering him and making him more nervous than he was. He decided to give a pseudonym.
“James Minor!” Jiminy proudly announced.
The money was in. There was no turning back now.

Lunchtime was shaping up to be a lonely affair. Matthew was busy training for the local marathon that was to be held the day after the assembly. (Even though he was not a keen athlete, Jiminy was always willing to support his friend. One year he stood at the halfway mark with a drink for Matthew. Matthew grabbed it whilst jogging past and proceeded to throw the liquid in his face to cool himself down. Jiminy was not aware of this practice and had regretted his choice of Hot Bovril as a half time “Pick-Me-Up”.) So Jiminy sat there, alone, picking at his bland slop which was thought to be Rice Pudding. The familiar smell of a familiar perfume wafted through his nostrils again. A familiar voice filled his ears.
“Hi Joe, mind if I sit here?”  Asked The voice. He looked up. It was Rachel! Jiminy was so ecstatic and blindsided by this request that he didn’t notice being called Joe. (Not that jiminy would have minded. He had always been a fan of Joe Brown of “I‘m Henry VIII, I am, I am“ fame. ) 
“By all means, take a Fuckin’ seat!” Jiminy exclaimed, giddily, instantly regretting his Eleventh hour inclusion of the word “Fuckin’” in his sentence.
Rachel nervously sat down. Jiminy started to wonder why on earth she was sitting there. He looked around. There was literally no other seats in the Dining Hall. He shrugged that fact off then decided to try out some of his material for the show on an unsuspecting Rachel.
“How do you cure a Nun’s period?” He asked, unaware he had severely messed up his joke.
“I have no idea!” Rachel replied, with obvious disgust.
“Tell her she’s got Hiccups!” he answered with a three mile smile on his face.

Silence.

After four and a half uncomfortable minutes had passed. Rachel attempted to engage Jiminy in conversation again.
“So Joe, are you a fan of Andre Preston?” was Rachel’s starting sentence.
“Oh yeah, I love him. I used to watch him all the time on UK Jibberjabber!” Jiminy exclaimed. (The statement was actually true. Andre’s program preceded “Calm Down, Pet!”, a sitcom about four men from Newcastle who all shared a Flat, a Car and a Wife, of which Jiminy was an avid watcher.)
The ball had started rolling. They chatted amicably about Andre Preston whilst taking sporadic mouthfuls of the badly disguised Gruel that their parents paid £15 a week to the school board for to ensure their children received it. Having further established Rachel’s fondness for comedians, Jiminy could not wait to have his moment onstage in front of this girl. Humour was an obvious aphrodisiac to her.
The Bell rang and Rachel excused herself in the opposite direction. It was at that point Jiminy realised that he had messed up his Nun joke and Rachel and gone through the entire conversation referring to him as Joe. It was too late to rectify these errors. So Jiminy decided to forget about it. Come next Friday, she would know who he was. (At that point the also remembered he had entered the competition under a false name. But no matter.)

For the next week and a half, Jiminy absorbed everything he could of stand up comedy. He rented several DVDs from the local shopping centre and researched like crazy. He very quickly came to the conclusion that if you’re not an African American living in the 1970s you are going to have a hard time finding Richard Pryor funny.
Matthew appeared every now and again to enquire how his “investment” was getting on. And to show Jiminy the posters that had been plastered all over the school. Jiminy was one of Three contenders. One of the others was the Fat boy with the Jam Jar specs trying to escape another beating. The other was Stanley Simmons (Real name Frederick Larkin, but was such a huge KISS fan that he insisted on being referred to by his other handle. He got his wish as he was immensely popular, despite his KISS fixation.) Stanley was the only student to be able to talk his way out of detention by making the Teacher in question bust a Gut with laughter. This was serious competition.
Undeterred, Jiminy carried on his mission. He had whittled down his joke selection in his mind to a tight Eight minutes. No more, no less. He decided to keep it close to his chest and not attempt to try ot his material, lest anyone suspect that he was, in fact, the illusive James Minor.
The identity of James Minor was starting to create a ripple of interest around the school. The ripple soon turned into a tidal wave when the Janitor, Mr Skegg was seen telling anecdotes about his mother in law to several uninterested students during morning break. (Mr Skegg was in fact single, but had adopted the practice of pretending to be wed so nobody discovered he sometimes attached his Camera Phone to his shoes and attempted to view up the dresses of unsuspecting women in the local shopping centre, whilst distracting them with Mother-In-Law jokes.) A “No teachers allowed” rule imposed at the last minute ruled out Mr Skegg and the buzz was out again on the identity of James Minor.

Assembly day loomed towards Jiminy like a Fat man who has spied a Cream Bun attached to a runaway Horse and Cart. To aid the mystery of James Minor, Jiminy had decided to don a Latex Dog mask before approaching the stage. (The shop also had a Saddam Hussein mask but Jiminy viewed this in poor taste.) The assembly hall was packed to the rafters with youngsters eager to catch a glimpse of Andre Preston in the flesh. Andre himself was holed up in the upstairs Boys toilets, which had been sectioned off exclusively for him. He had requested at least an hour’s “Me Time” before performing, along with a tray of fresh fruit and four bottles of chilled spring Water (A request so pretentious that the management staff jumped at the chance of fulfilling it.)
Jiminy paced nervously behind the Bike sheds, where he could be alone so nobody twigged it was he who would be performing. (There were several Cannabis smoking students taking a quick “toke” behind the sheds before Showtime but Jiminy decided that, being as high as they were, they would either find him funny anyway or be too stupid to comprehend what was going on having killed their brain cells with Hashish.)
“Hey man, got a light?” A voice said from behind him. He turned around. It was Andre.
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t smoke.” replied Jiminy, wishing he did so he would have been able to lend Andre a light to look “cool”
“I don’t usually smoke either, but I’m actually a bit nervous today!” confessed Andre.
“But, you’ve done this hundreds of times, why are you so nervous today? It’s just a school assembly!” asked Jiminy.
“Ok, I usually don’t talk to just anyone, but you seem like you’re unpopular enough to have nobody to tell this to.” said Andre. “There’s a girl in the audience that I have a crush on.”
“Who?” Jiminy’s eyes were wide with anticipation.
“Frieda Douglas!” Andre said with a wistful, yet nervous grin.
Andre went on to explain that Frieda had claimed her illegitimate child was actually his, from their time together in college. But Andre explained that that could not have possibly been true as his Sperm had a tragically low motility due to the fact he smoked too much Cannabis in college. (The sound of coughing and furtive “Joint stubbing” on the ground was heard behind Jiminy’s head.)  Andre had really accepted this gig at the school as an excuse to win Miss Douglas’s heart back. A prize he had coveted since they first met. He also explained that the reason he had gotten into stand up in the first place was that Frieda once told him that the way to her heart was through laughter. (Andre had wrongly assumed that also meant the way to her Knickers as well. Their only night spent together was out of pity because Andre had claimed to Frieda that he had found a lump on his left Teste nad was worried he might die a virgin. He was in fact not a virgin at the time, but his tenure at acting school had come in useful for the first time since he started.)
Jiminy realised that the man standing in front of him, this critically revered comedian, started off for the exact same reason he was going for it. He began to tell Andre about Rachel, and how he was trying to get her to notice him through the medium of comedy.
“Well Casanova, lets have a look at your material.” Andre offered.
Jiminy produced a small stack of cards with his routine on it.
Andre leafed through them. He looked at Jiminy’s hopeful face… and tore the cards up in front of him.
“WHAT THE MOTHERFUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING YOU GREASY INTERNATIONAL WANKER?!” Jiminy roared.
“Relax, my boy. Shut up a second and listen to me. I have something to give you.”
Andre reached into his left inside pocket and produced an envelope. It was marked “Plan B”. He handed the envelope to Jiminy.
“Open this envelope Ten minutes before you’re due to go on. And it’ll get you one step closer to that girl of yours.”
Jiminy was lost for words. All he could think to do was throw his arms around Andre and give him a hug. But he didn’t. Andre’s White suit jacket was far too nice to crumple. Plus, there were still a few stoners milling about and he didn’t want any “Jiminy is gay for older men” rumours flying about. Andre wished him luck, turned around, and headed back to his toilet. Jiminy was so pleased about his stroke of luck that he headed to the hall with a new found confidence.

“Welcome to the first annual ‘Laugh In’, hosted by myself, your head teacher!” Mrs Etheridge boomed into the microphone. The school’s crude P.A. system served to make Mrs Etheridge sound ghoulish. Eliciting laughter from the younger students that had joined that year. (The demonic voice lent credence to the rumour some sixth formers had spread to the first years that Mrs Etheridge was actually an ex Bricklayer in drag.)
“We would like to introduce our first comedian of the night, Mr  Jonathon Walters!”
The Fat boy with the Jam Jar Specs and crazy haircut waddled onstage amid cheers from his fellow classmates (and a bottle full of Piss that had been thrown by a boy whose girlfriend had participated in the famed Wet T-Shirt contest.)
The first three to four minutes of Fatso’s routine was undoubtedly funny. But there’s only so many “I can’t see my Penis under my gut” jokes you can make before the routine becomes stale. Yet more debris was thrown. Fatso hastily waddled back off the stage.
Jiminy knew that he would be third, after Stanley Simmons. He decided to get ready. He had his Dog Mask at the ready and he opened up Andre’s envelope.
“Please welcome our second comedian… Mr Stanley Simmons!”
The crowd roared like a 747 on takeoff. Stanley took to the stage wearing a Latex Saddam Hussein Mask, to which the crowd further roared with laughter. Jiminy was less than impressed.

Jiminy looked at the cards that were inside the envelope. He read through them. They were without a doubt the funniest jokes he had heard in a long time. The act was fresh, new and exciting. The envelope had contained Andre’s backup act. In case of an emergency. The material was largely untested as Andre had not had to call upon it yet, which meant that Jiminy would be performing brand new jokes to an unsuspecting audience.
He watched Stanley’s act with quiet confidence. Stanley’s act was good, very good, especially for an amateur. It did not, however, compare to the material which Jiminy had in his hand.
Ten minutes felt like four hours to Jiminy, who was now desperate to get onstage. Just then he spied Rachel in the front row. She was laughing it up with her Behemoth friend at Stanley’s routine. She was in the perfect place to hear Jiminy wipe the floor with that smug Arsehole.
Stanley got off the stage amid more cheering. Mrs Etheridge took to the stage, wiping the tears of joy from her cheeks.
“Now, may I introduce the third and final comedian of our competition, who sure has his work cut out for him. Please Welcome… James Minor!”
Jiminy was about to put on his Dog Mask, but after watching Stanley get one of his biggest cheers through a latex mask, he decided he did not need to hide behind his fake persona anymore. It was at this point, he dropped Andre’s cards to the floor.
As he approached the Microphone there was shouts of “Who the Fuck is that?” and “Is that Matthew’s Shit friend?” coming from the audience.
He walked up to the microphone and began.
“Hello, My name is Jiminy. And I’m here to try get you to laugh, I guess.” He asserted, nervously. He spied Andre watching him from the wings. He was mouthing the words “where’s the cards?” at him. Jiminy gestured to him in an “It’s OK” motion (Take your arm, hold your hand out flat, and move it up and down with small, but firm gestures.)
“I’m afraid I can’t remember any of my routine. I lost my Idiot Cards behind the Bike sheds… Whilst I was having a Reefer!”
This last Statement took Jiminy, and the audience by surprise. There was a reaction of equal parts shock and amusement from the crowd. As if they were unanimously thinking “did he really just say that?”
Jiminy looked over at Mrs Etheridge’s shocked face.
“And what you gonna do about it Etheridge? You’ll have to Fuckin’ catch me first. You’re arse is so fuckin’ big you jumped up in the air and got stuck!”
A roar of laughter ensued.
“Seriously, last Halloween she dressed all in black and her husband asked what she was supposed to be. She replied ‘Night time!’”
More laughter.
“Not that Mr Etheridge can Fuckin’ talk. He’s so Fuckin’ ugly, he looks like his face went on fire and he tried to put it out with an Axe!”
A mini-Riot kicked off in the front row. Jiminy continued to roast the Head Teacher of Milton Forthwards Grammar School with every off colour joke that came into his mind at the time. He re-styled some of his dad’s old stories from the docks and changed the identities of the protagonists to names of the faculty. (He even touched on the controversial subject of Mr Skegg’s “camera-shoes” rumours.)
The next thing Jiminy remembered was being escorted off the stage by two P.E. teachers by force. The audience went berserk. Mrs Etheridge took to the mic to calm down the students. As she marched onstage the audience erupted in shouting “BOOM, BOOM!” with every footstep she took.
As Jiminy was being led offstage he saw three things:
Andre’s face. it was a picture of pride. He admired shock humour and he had just witnessed it in the raw.
Rachel Waving with the rest of the crowd and chanting his name. (He wondered at that moment if she was chanting “Joe, Joe, Joe!”
The third and final thing was the fist of Mr Skegg. Reckoning he had nothing to lose in what he saw would be obvious repercussions in what afterwards was quickly dubbed “Cameragate”, he had punched his antagonist right in the face. Jiminy felt Electric pain running through his entire head. He fell to the floor.

Jiminy awoke in the Sick Bay of the school. Andre and Miss Douglas were sitting, hand in hand, at the end of the bed Jiminy was lying in. (Andre had confessed his love for her, and she had confessed her liking of him and her love for money and they decided to try as an item, and continue to raise little Johnny together as if he was Andre’s. His low motility was never mentioned again.)
“What in the hell happened up there?” Andre gasped.
Jiminy went on to explain that after he saw the cards n the envelope, and had seen Stanley knock them dead with his own material, he realised that the only way he could live with himself is if he went onstage and was as honest as possible. After very quickly realising that his own life is far too dull to turn into an interesting story he had to take an alternate route.
Out the corner of his eye as he approached the Microphone to deliver his routine, he saw Mrs Etheridge shake Stanley’s hand and he read her lips as she said the words “It’s in the bag!” He realised then that if he was going to be judged for no reason whatsoever before he even opened his mouth then he was going to condense all his hatred for everything he had hatred for into one long rant against the people who were supposed to be there to nurture his creativity and learning ability, but don’t quite deliver on that task. Out came the shocking routine.

After another hour of recovering from Mr Skegg’s busy hands, Jiminy had to go to Mrs Etheridge’s class and explain himself. A task he was not looking forward to. Going to Mrs Etheridge’s office was a decidedly scary prospect. (A story Falsely attributed to Mrs Etheridge is that when she was a lot younger, she lured several unwitting people to a cabin in the woods and slaughtered them. Amongst these people was B Movie actress Sharon Tate.)
Jiminy knocked on the door. The door eerily seemed to open by itself to revel Mrs Etheridge sitting at her desk looking quite calm. (The door was actually opened by Mr Laing, a very scrawny Biology teacher that Jiminy didn’t notice was behind it when he walked into the office.)
Mrs Etheridge gestured Jiminy to sit down. He obliged.
“I suppose you know why I’ve called you in here.” Etheridge said with a voice of stone. Jiminy gulped and slowly nodded.
“Here. I’ve got no choice but to give you this!” She said, handing Jiminy an ominous brown looking envelope. “Now get out!” Etheridge snapped.
Jiminy left the office. The door closed behind him (Mr Laing obviously had nothing better to do that day.) He rested the back of his head on the door, sighed and opened the envelope. The last time Jiminy saw an envelope of this ilk was when one was handed to a student named George Campbell during Registration. (George had unwittingly smuggled two Baby Fennec Foxes into school after a class trip to the Zoo. Unable to find shade anywhere else on a hot day, the Foxes took solace inside the cool confines of his Gym Bag. He was suspended for several weeks and was blackballed when it came time to select his classes for O Level. The news of is suspension was delivered in an identical, ominous brown envelope.)
Jiminy slowly opened the envelope. He removed its contents. £60 worth of crisp banknotes. A sigh of relief was closely followed by a sigh of shock. There was also a note inside.
“Dear Mr James “Jiminy” Minor. This is to prove that the Staff at Milton Forthwards Grammar School have a keen sense of humour. Albeit not one as twisted as yours.”
It was signed by Mrs Etheridge. (Mr Skegg however did not, as we know, share the same sense of humour. He was subsequently sacked after an investigation revealed that several hundred “Upskirt” images were found on his home Computer, along with an article penned by himself entitled “Why it should be OK to hit students - A proposed new Government legislation.”)

During the course of the next few weeks the mayhem died down. Jiminy gave Matthew his share of the winnings and used his own winnings to buy his mother and father a Chinese takeaway and a bottle of wine (A move Jiminy’s father took great offence to, calling it an insult to him. During his father’s rant Jiminy had never heard the word “Fuck” used so many times outside of a Quinton Tarantino picture.)
Andre and Frieda moved to America where little Johnny could enjoy the high life and never have to want for anything. (Andre figured that buying toys and other sundries for Johnny would offset the fact that he could not give him a little brother or sister to play with.)
Jiminy sill held a large torch for Rachel. And hopes that his foray into comedy has made a lasting impression on her. (In reality, Rachel was secretly taking nips of Vodka out of a hipflask that the Behemoth had smuggled into the assembly. She only remembers up until the first few audience members shuffled in. The rest is a complete blur.)