In Competition No. 2511 you were invited to describe, in prose or verse, Christopher Robin’s first day at a comprehensive school.
In Competition No. 2511 you were invited to describe, in prose or verse, Christopher Robin’s first day at a comprehensive school.
The idea was to wrench Pooh’s chum from a cosy world of Nanny, Hornby train-sets and bedtime prayers and plunge him into the lawless pandemonium of an inner-city comprehensive, where presumably the only ‘hoppity hopping’ he’d be doing would be to dodge the bullets, and his fellow pupils would more likely have a dose of the clap than sneezles and wheezles. How did he fare? Over to you.
The comp was a pleasure to judge; commendations to Mike Morrison and Paul Griffin. The prizewinning line-up is printed below. It’s £25 each this week and the bonus fiver belongs to Simon Machin.
They’re guardin’ the classrooms at Walthamstow Central —
Christopher Robin is drivin’ them mental.
On his first day he took over the hood.
Fightin’ is wicked, and wicked is good,
At Central.
They’re frightened of pupils at Walthamstow Central —
Tigger’s the bully dat’s well temperamental!
Kanga’s the madam and Eeyore the nonce,
Piglet the lookout and Winnie the ponce,
At Central.
They’re burnin’ the textbooks at Walthamstow Central —
Teaching the devils is purely tangential.
Sports Day and Speech Day have had to be banned.
One wouldn’t be Head for two hundred grand,
At Central.
Simon Machin
Christopher Robin was looking at his mobile screen, like everyone else in the playground. The text said ‘OMG u wl b mggd by oiks.’ It was signed ‘eoR’.
That was Eeyore all over. But supposing it was true? He didn’t know any of the other pupils. Some of them looked rather big, and not just the girls. Pooh had been comforting, but then everyone knew Pooh was a Bear of Little Brain. Christopher Robin plucked up his courage to approach a group of hulking lads and introduce himself.
Frowning, the tallest of them asked, ‘You posh?’
‘Well — yes,’ confessed Christopher Robin. ‘The pater got stung in the sub-primes market, so Harrow wasn’t on for me.’
‘Join the club,’ was the reply. ‘Bloody parents. Still, look at the upside. Plenty of skunk available here.’
‘Wicked,’ said Christopher Robin. ‘Anyone for Pooh sticks?’
Basil Ransome-Davies
Little boy strolls through the gates of the school,
Trainers and mobile the essence of cool,
Cartier wristwatch — he’s some little nob.
Christopher Robin’s a target to rob.
Up strides the bully, the Number One thug,
Fist like a mutton joint, face like a pug,
Thinks he’s a hard nut, a merciless Ming:
‘Christopher Robin, hand over your bling.’
The fight is a short one, a minute or less,
Before the school bully’s a blubbering mess,
Reminded of what a good prep school can do.
Christopher Robin is trained in kung fu.
Other chavs cower. Their leader is lost.
They’re sheep-like disciples who need to be bossed.
They hail their new master; he gives them the air.
Christopher Robin is too rich to care.
G.M. Davis
He’s changing schools at Crystal Palace —
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
They looked for the Head, but he couldn’t be found,
‘He’s meeting some targets, I’ll be bound’,
Said Alice.
He’s changing schools at Crystal Palace —
Christopher Robin went in with Alice.
He had the first of his culture shocks:
Somebody snaffled his luncheon box.
Pure malice.
He’s changing schools at Crystal Palace —
Christopher Robin went home with Alice.
Said Christopher, ‘It isn’t fair,
I want to go to Eton, where
My pal is’.
Michael Saxby
Little Boy leaving his Mater’s and Pater’s,
Off to a School with Academy Status,
Clutching his Satchel, his iPod discreet,
Wearing his hoodie, his image complete.
Hush! Hush! says a browbeaten man,
Hands him a Personal Strategy Plan,
Sponsored by Business, and given out free
To help him negotiate through Key Stage 3.
After Assembly, Little Boy’s pressed
To sit in a Study Space, taking a test,
The first of a thousand, his marks to enable
His School to be top of the League and its Table.
Little Boy’s lectured on Uniform Code,
On his Strand, on his Stream, on his Pathway and Mode,
Given a Learning Supportive Adviser,
And sent home at three-fifteen, not much the wiser.
Bill Greenwell
They’re sending me to the new comprehensive!
(Daddy says Eton has got too expensive!)
A new boy’s life is terribly hard,
I’ve been mugged seven times, and that’s just in the yard,
Already.
But A-level English is easy to do.
The hardest set book is called Winnie the Pooh.
So though Mummy and Daddy will say it’s a shame
I’m going to alter my poofy name
to ‘Freddy’.
The uniform code was quite easy to crack:
A baseball cap with the peak at the back.
My classmates can’t count to much higher than three
But it’s ever so much more important to be
Street-creddy.
Brian Murdoch
Competition No. 2514: Taking the rap
You are invited to recast a fairy tale as a rap (16 lines maximum). Entries to ‘Competition 2514’ by 27 September or email lucy@spectator.co.uk.
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