Mr Palmer peeked into the room. He was half an hour late, but surely, students should be able to study science without their teacher present! Throwing cricket balls at the fan may qualify as a scientific study, but someone was going to get hurt!

‘You want science?’ boomed a loud voice at the doorway.

Their grey-bearded, chubby, Yorkshire accented science teacher stood confidently, his arms on both hips. He was naked. The classroom stared at him in shock.

‘Yeah, that got your attention!’ he chuckled.

Unfortunately it only provoked roars of laughter. Mr Palmer dropped his head and left the class, a disgrace.

‘Attention, Boy College, Mr Winterbottom here,’ sounded the intercom. ‘Sorry to interrupt classes. Just a quick message to Percy Pumpernickel: Your time is up you little bastard. You got me fired and I am going to hunt you down and kill you like a dog. That’s all everyone. Thank you.’

‘I thought he was fired,’ Percy commented.

‘He is,’ Stav replied.

Percy gritted his teeth; things were getting serious. Noticing the silence, Mr Palmer stepped back into the room, this time wearing a robe.

‘Well Percy, you seem to be in a bit of a fix!’ he smiled with a wink. ‘Anyway class, today we will be studying science!’

He took off his left shoelace and, knotting the two ends together, he held it against the blackboard with both hands. Using the toes on his left foot, he managed to take hold of a piece of chalk.

‘Uh, could someone help me?’ he asked, looking at the class and panting. ‘I’m a bit tied up at the moment.’

Stav Don Buolmwipe got out of his chair with a sly grin. ‘What is it that you’re trying to do, sir?’

‘Oh, it’s you Stav! Well, I am trying to draw a nice, round circle on the blackboard. Only problem is, the stencil I have made with my shoelace is taking up both of my hands. I’m afraid that when god was giving people arms, he didn’t consider the possibility that one day, we may be in a position where someone has tied us to a wall, dressed in nothing but a fireman outfit, having one arm handcuffed to the bed while the other arm is busy itching our shoulder, and a huge, Yugoslavian man has a feather in his hand.’ His face went red. ‘I’ve said too much.’

‘Well, let me help you then!’ said Stav, tickling Mr Palmer’s bare, left foot. The chalk fell to the floor. Stav picked it up and stuck it inside his science teacher’s nostril.

‘This is highly inappropriate!’ Mr Palmer groaned. ‘Stop it!’

Stav then kicked his teacher in the backside.

‘Now that really is the last straw!’ he yelled, dropping the shoelace and pulling the chalk out of his nose.

‘No it isn’t!’ Stav smiled.

‘Oh yes it is! Now, you go and tell Mr Winterbottom exactly what you just did!’

‘He’s been fired.’

‘Then go and see the principal!’

‘No!’

‘Then get out!’ Mr Palmer yelled. ‘I will not have my science class made into a land of silliness!’

His robe had fallen off in the process and the class was laughing hysterically.

‘Look, I think we’d better get on with the lesson,’ he huffed, and gave a signal towards the door.

In came a small, bald man with a red goatee. He was wearing a white lab coat and carried a pig’s head on a platter.

‘Are we ready for the experiment?’ the man asked. ‘Mr Palmer, why are you wearing a robe?’

‘It’s a long story,’ he mumbled from the side of his mouth. ‘Now class, this is Mr Gleaden. He used to be the school bounty hunter, but now he is the science technician guy.’

‘Shut up about the bounty hunter business!’ Mr Gleaden whispered to him angrily. ‘That’s not relevant anymore!’

‘You seem to be getting angry!’ Mr Palmer taunted. ‘Mind you don’t kill me, you dirty little man!’

‘Stop it!’ Mr Gleaden yelled, slamming the platter on the teacher’s desk. ‘Enough horsing around!’

‘Enough what?’

‘Stop being an idiot! Now let’s get this experiment out of the way!’

‘Okay, calm down, murderer!’ Mr Palmer giggled, and looked at the class. ‘Okay, boys. What you see before you today is the head of a pig. In the olden days people used to put apples in their mouth for fun and relaxation. But in these more advanced, scientific times, we have found other uses for them.’

The class was permitted to talk amongst themselves while he attached the wires to the pig’s head.

‘What are doing, Palmer?’ asked Mr Gleaden.

‘Just you wait and see!’ he replied, and picked up a switch. ‘One, two, three – Go!’

He pressed the button and there was an explosion. Bits of pig flesh and blood splattered all over the walls.

‘Hurrah!’ Mr Palmer yelled, clicking his heals in the air. The class stood up from their seats and cheered.

‘What sort of an experiment was that! I thought that you would dissect it!’ Mr Gleaden fumed. ‘Stop horsing around! You don’t just blow up pig heads, you maniac!’

‘Hey, you were the one who used to be the school bounty hunter, not me!’ Mr Palmer pointed. ‘Everyone, show Mr Gleaden what we think of him!’

Half of the class stuck their rude fingers up at him.

‘Now class,’ he continued, ‘I realise that some of you have been doing poorly at science this year. In fact, not one of you has passed any of the tests this year.’

‘It’d help if you actually told us what to study!’ Stav shouted.

‘There’s no need for that,’ he replied, shaking his head in irritation. ‘Now, I have organised for this class to go on a two-night science camp next Monday. Mr Gleaden and myself will show how science can be put into real life situations!’

He handed out some blue permission slips.

‘Roger’s Umbrella Camp?’ Mr Gleaden read. ‘Are you sure this is a normal camp, Palmer?’

‘Well, I’ll tell you one thing,’ Mr Palmer winked back. ‘It isn’t a camp that sells umbrellas!’ He laughed loudly for the next twenty minutes.

That night Mr Gleaden was awoken by a phone call.

‘That Gleaden?’

‘Yeah.’

‘This is Mr Winterbottom. I have a little favour to ask of you, Gleaden.’

‘What’s that?’

‘See that Percy is out of the picture for me, Gleaden.’

‘Just leave it, Winterbottom,’ he frowned. ‘Let it go.’

‘No, I won’t let it go!’ he yelled. ‘I want him dead! Help me out here, mate!’

‘No!’ Mr Gleaden said firmly. ‘I gave up that life! I don’t horse around anymore!’

‘You were a great bounty hunter, Gleaden. The principal only had to nod and you’d dispose of the body before the parents even knew he had gone to school yet.’

‘I told you, the answer is no!’

‘Fine,’ Mr Winterbottom frowned. ‘Now I understand that you are going on a science camp next week.’

‘That’s right. What’s it got to do with you?’

‘Oh, nothing. I guess I have to take matters into your own hands, Gleaden.’ With that, the phone line disconnected.

Mr Winterbottom put the phone down and looked straight ahead. ‘Yes!’ he cackled. ‘When I find Percy, I am going to cut him into little pieces, so the rats eat him!’ He then put the phone down and picked up the book.

‘Daddy, what happens next?’ asked his three-year-old daughter, Emily.

‘Oh, yes! Well, the fairy took out her magic wand and turned the frog into a handsome prince!’ he said with a smile. ‘And that’s the end of the story.’ He kissed her on the cheek and tucked her into bed.

‘Well, here we are!’ Mr Palmer announced as the thirty boys carried their luggage down the stone path and into the main meeting room. Percy had not enjoyed the trip as much as he would have if Stav had not continually spat onto his face. On top of that, Mr Gleaden had warned him that Mr Winterbottom could try to kill him, advising that he should tell someone if he sees a gun pointed at his head.

Standing in a pair of shorts and a casual looking Hawaiian shirt was the owner of Camp Umbrella.

‘Welcome, boys to Camp Umbrella. My name is Roger O’Callahan. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything, day or night – whether you need help with the facilities, want directions, or even umbrellas. I am here to help.’

‘Yes, I’ll take over from here,’ Mr Palmer huffed, pushing in front of him. ‘Okay boys! We only have two days here and we are going to make the most of it! Mr Gleaden, should we get going with the experiments?’

‘Maybe the kids would like to have lunch,’ he suggested. The kids nodded.

‘They’ve got all the time to eat food, Gleaden! They can eat anywhere! But only here, at Camp Umbrella, can they eat the most wonderful food there is! Science!’

‘Camp Umbrella?’ Mr Gleaden pondered. ‘Roger, this place is just a normal camp, right?’

‘Sure as shaving cream!’ Roger smiled. ‘Named after Sir Alfred Umbrella!’

‘It’s not a place that sells umbrellas, by any chance?’

‘Oh, definitely not!’ Roger replied. ‘That said, I wonder if you’ve ever considered one of my O’Callahan specials? It’s a one-day offer! Three umbrellas for the price of one!’

‘Mr Palmer, this place is an Umbrella shop, not a science camp!’ Mr Gleaden fumed.

‘Let me handle this, Gleaden,’ Mr Palmer said reassuringly. He approached Roger O’Callahan, who smiled back at him cheerfully.

‘How may I help you, sir? Could I interest you or one of your students in an umbrella?’

Mr Palmer took the camp owner tightly by the collar of his shirt. ‘That does it!’ he growled. ‘No one wants an umbrella, so shut up!’

Roger fell to the ground, coughing and panting.

‘You stay away from me and my students, or there’ll be more!’ he threatened. Percy and the rest of the class followed the teachers as they led them out of the room and over to their cabins to unpack.

‘You haven’t won yet,’ Roger whispered.

‘Are we there yet?’ asked little Emily.

‘Almost,’ Mr Winterbottom sung back, smiling to his wife as they drove into the campgrounds. ‘How are you going back there, Julian?’

‘I’m almost passed level three!’ the five-year-old boy said excitedly, playing his Game Boy.

‘Put that away!’ Mr Winterbottom told him sternly. ‘Julian, we came out here to see nature. To get away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.’

‘I love you sweetheart,’ laughed his wife, Christy.

‘I love you too,’ Mr Winterbottom smiled back.

They parked the car and lifted their two children out of the back.

‘Oh boy! Camping!’ Julian said in excitement. ‘I’ve never been camping before! Let’s go fishing daddy!’

‘Not just now, Julian,’ he answered. ‘We have to set up camp first.’

‘So how long are we going to stay here, darling?’ asked his wife.

‘Just until tomorrow.’

‘I love you darling.’

‘I love you too.’

Emily then started to cry.

‘Emily?’ Christy asked. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Julian hit me!’ she cried.

Mr Winterbottom gave Julian a stern look. The little boy bit his lip in shame.

‘Did you hit your sister?’

‘Yes, dad.’

‘Why did you hit her, son?’

‘Because she stuck her tongue out at me.’

‘Julian! I am ashamed of you,’ Mr Winterbottom scolded. ‘Two wrongs don’t make a right.’

‘I know dad.’

‘Don’t you think you owe someone an apology?’

Julian walked up to Emily with his head down. ‘I’m sorry I hit you before,’ he apologised.

‘I love you darling!’ Christy smiled.

‘I love you too, dear,’ he replied, kissing her on the cheek. He left her side to take the camping gear out of the boot of his car. ‘Now you kids don’t fight anymore, you here! If there’s one thing I want to get out of this trip, it’s togetherness!’ He paused, and took a large axe out of the boot. ‘That,’ he whispered to himself, ‘and a certain little boy’s head.’

‘I love you darling!’ Christy laughed, and started putting up the tent.

‘I love you too, sweetie,’ he smiled.

‘There’s nothing better than putting science into real life situations, hey, Gleaden?’ said Mr Palmer as he stretched his arms back.

‘This experiment is stupid,’ Mr Gleaden replied. ‘I don’t understand this at all!’

‘It’s all very simple, Gleaden. The students have got into groups of two, and I have supplied them each with bottle. Inside, a goldfish swims. They put it in the horse trough, and the rest pretty much speaks for itself.’

‘What?’ Mr Gleaden yelled. ‘I don’t understand the point at all! If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were horsing around!’

‘Horsing around? What do you mean?’

‘Fooling around, you know!’

‘Oh, I see. Well I assure you Gleaden, that this is a perfectly sensible, scientific test of reactions. When the horse, feeling hot as a result of today’s sunny weather, decides to drink from the water, the students will need to shock it so that it doesn’t. The horse, in turn, will not drink the goldfish, and consequently, it will emit a "neigh" in protest!’

Mr Gleaden frowned at Mr Palmer. ‘That is the most stupid experiment you have conducted yet.’

‘You just haven’t seen the results yet. Believe me, when you see that horse neigh, you’ll realise it was all worthwhile.’

Stav Don Buolmwipe, not able to cause the horse to neigh, had jumped over the fence and was trying to twist its leg back.

‘Neigh, idiot!’ he heaved.

‘Watch out Stav,’ Mr Palmer called out, just in time to see it kick him in the shin.

‘Ow!’ Stav cried. ‘It kicked me!’

‘That will teach you!’ Mr Palmer laughed. ‘Come on, over the fence Stav! Give another group a turn!’

Percy was in Matthew’s group. Matthew was not someone that many people spoke to. Just like Percy, he had been categorised as a nerd. Percy couldn’t understand how he and himself could both be regarded the same way.

‘Oh man, I love those kinder surprise things!’ he said, punching the air with a grin. ‘I’d do anything to have one, right now!’

‘Really?’ Percy asked, although Matthew had repeated this same comment a total of thirteen times since the activity had begun.

‘Oh yeah, man! They aren’t popular anymore, but I think they should be.’

Before any more could be said, a heavenly voice could be heard. Someone was singing a sweet, romantic sounding love song. It was the voice of Roger O’Callahan.

‘Oh darling, my darling darling,’ sang the camp owner, with a microphone to his lips, strolling casually towards the group of students and an angry looking Mr Palmer.

Whenever I feel alone, I know that I can turn to you.

He finished by turning to the students with a Hollywood grin. ‘Umbrellas. You gotta love ‘em!’ he said with a wink.

‘I warned you!’ Mr Palmer grunted, standing up from the grass and picking up a small log. ‘Now you are going to pay!’

‘Are you sure I can’t interest you in a nice umbrella? Keeps the rain away,’ Roger sung.

‘Leave us alone!’ Mr Palmer yelled, forcefully throwing the log at Roger’s head.

‘Ow!’ Roger cried. ‘I’ll get you for this! No one comes to Camp Umbrella and leaves without one!’

He ran off laughing hysterically.

‘Maybe you should buy an umbrella,’ Mr Gleaden suggested. ‘We’re using his facilities, after all.’

‘No, Gleaden, the point is that I don’t want an umbrella, and neither do any of these students!’

‘I’d like one!’ Stav called out.

‘Shut up, Stav!’ Mr Palmer yelled. ‘Now, Percy and Matthew! It’s your turn! Where’s your goldfish?’

Matthew looked at Percy. ‘Should I tell him that I ate it?’

‘What?’ Percy asked. ‘You told me you were just keeping it in your mouth to keep it safe!’

‘I was!’ Matthew laughed. ‘And now it is safe in my stomach!’ He laughed hysterically. ‘Get it? Safe in my stomach!’

‘Yeah, whatever,’ Percy mumbled to himself. ‘Mr Palmer, I’m afraid we’ve lost the goldfish!’

‘Oh, you fool! You absolute fool! What do we do now? What happens if the RSPCA finds out?’

Mr Gleaden stood up angrily. ‘Oh shut up! What you were making them do was just as stupid!’

‘Oh, getting angry are we!’ Mr Palmer sneered. ‘Don’t kill me, Mr Bounty Hunter!’

‘That’s it! I’m going for a walk by myself! I’ve had enough of you horsing around!’ Mr Gleaden said angrily and marched off.

Mr Palmer looked at the horse, standing in the paddock and chewing on grass. ‘Horsing around, Gleaden?’ he whispered. ‘I’ll show you horsing around!’

That night, Mr Gleaden woke from his bed to find a horse standing in the room.

‘What? Help! Somebody, help!’ Mr Gleaden gasped, pulling his sheets closer to his face.

‘Ha! You should have seen your face!’ Mr Palmer laughed, pointing at a not-very-impressed Mr Gleaden. ‘You were so scared!’

‘You are a sick, sick man,’ Mr Gleaden responded. ‘You are a complete freak. Now I am going to give you until the count of ten to take the horse out of my room and get the hell away from me.’

Mr Palmer grinned at him through a countdown of eight seconds, before sighing and leading the horse out. ‘It was just a joke,’ he muttered. ‘Gee, I thought you had a better sense of humour than that.’

Percy had a sense of humour, but Matthew’s joke wasn’t making him laugh. Particularly for the eighty-second time that night.

‘Don’t you get it, Percy?’ Matthew asked loudly from the top bunk. ‘The goldfish is safe in my stomach!’

‘I get it!’ Percy finally yelled back.

‘No, but I mean, it’s funny because it actually isn’t safe in my stomach! It’s dead!’

‘I know, now can I get to sleep!’ Percy groaned.

Matthew climbed down the end of the bunk bed. ‘No, I don’t think you do get it, Percy!’

‘I do! Go back to bed! It’s three in the morning!’

‘You think that I hid it somewhere, don’t you?’

‘Not really,’ Percy responded.

‘It’s one of those funny-because-it’s-true jokes,’ Matthew explained. ‘You won’t laugh until you have proof that I swallowed it!’

‘No, I’m not laughing because it isn’t funny!’

‘No, just come here for a sec,’ Matthew said.

Percy pulled the blanket over him and turned away. Matthew shrugged and moved closer.

‘Just look inside my mouth. If you look carefully down my throat, you’ll see the goldfish, dead in my stomach.’

‘No, I won’t see it,’ Percy said.
When Matthew opened his mouth widely over his face, Percy had enough. ‘Get the hell away from me, you weirdo!’

But Matthew went closer and closer, his mouth wide open. He was trying to say something, but wouldn’t close his mouth.

Percy backed away slowly, realising that things were getting too creepy. He opened up the door and ran out into the pitch-black night.

Had he finally lost him? Percy had run non-stop for over ten minutes through the dense scrub of the bush and was hiding behind a large tree. The sound of Matthew’s open-mouthed voice had finally ceased to echo through the hills and Percy was able to catch his breath.

‘Ah, Percy!’ came a quiet voice from behind him. ‘We meet again.’

A rush of fear came flying through Percy’s spine. It was Mr Winterbottom! He was dressed completely in black and carried a sharp axe in his arms.

‘Tonight, Percy – you die!’ he snarled. Percy dived away as the axe swung into the trunk of the tree.

‘Daddy!’ came the scream of a little girl. ‘Julian hit me again!’

Percy looked in confusion as he saw, from the light of a torch, two young children and a brown-haired lady.

‘Julian, now what did I tell you before?’ Mr Winterbottom asked.

‘Two wrongs don’t make a right,’ Julian recited.

‘Well, I have something else to tell you, Julian. Violence is unacceptable. If Emily sticks her tongue out, just ignore her.’

‘I love you dear!’ Christy Winterbottom cried in happiness.

‘I love you too dear,’ he replied.

‘And who is your little friend here?’

Percy lifted himself off the ground and gave her a little smile.

‘Oh, this is Percy, a student of mine,’ Mr Winterbottom said.

‘Nice to meet you,’ Christy smiled. ‘Is Mr Winterbottom a good co-ordinator? He’s not too strict on you, I hope.’

‘Actually, he was fired…’ Percy began.

‘Fired?’ gasped Christy. ‘No!’

Seeing that Mr Winterbottom’s axe was being lifted again, Percy decided to rephrase his last sentence. ‘I mean, he was admired by all. And still is, in fact.’

Mr Winterbottom let the axe hang by his side and nodded. ‘Well, I’d better keep collecting firewood. Goodbye Percy.’

‘I love you darling!’ Christy smiled and took Mr Winterbottom in her arms. The two children followed their parents out of the forest.

Percy sprinted out of the bush and back to Camp Umbrella.

‘Okay children, we all know that frogs are magical,’ explained Mr Palmer the next morning. ‘But what people don’t realise, I fear, is just how magical their spawn is! Today I will show you the ultimate step in putting science into a real life situation!’

‘You really are a moron,’ Mr Gleaden snorted.

‘You’ll see,’ he retorted. With that, Mr Palmer stripped down to his bathing shorts and waded into the pond. ‘Notice these frog eggs!’ he called out to the observing students. ‘These are delicious on toast, but there are other uses for them too!’ Noticing no one had laughed, he continued with the lesson. ‘They can also be used for levitation! Observe!’

No one could be surprised when Mr Palmer buried the frog eggs in his bathing shorts and swung them in the air three times, letting them go flying onto a high tree branch.

‘Oh…I see they aren’t levitating,’ Mr Palmer said, scratching his head. ‘I swear this worked last time I tried it.’

‘Why don’t you let me take over the class,’ Mr Gleaden asked.

‘Because you’ll probably kill them all and bury their bodies out in the Northern Territory!’

‘I told you, I don’t do that stuff anymore!’

Mr Palmer looked at the tree, then down at his own naked body. ‘Uh, well, as I am naked…wait, I know! Boys, today I will show you the effect of the gravitational pull and it’s ability to manipulate a society. Mr Gleaden, if you please,’ he pointed.

‘What? I’m not getting your shorts off that tree branch! It’ll snap!’

‘Do it for science,’ Mr Palmer moaned. ‘And besides, I’m naked without them! I’ll be exposed to the students!’

‘You never had a problem with that before!’ Mr Gleaden spat. ‘I’ve had enough of your horsing around! I’m going back to the cabin to get some rest. You got yourself into this mess, you can get yourself out.’ He stormed away.

‘Fine, I will do it myself!’ Mr Palmer yelled. ‘Percy,’ he said in a quieter voice, ‘grab my shorts from up there please.’

Percy shrugged and climbed up the gum tree. He was a fairly light boy and the branch was able to support him quite easily.

‘Throw them here, Percy!’ the naked science teacher cried from the pond. Percy took the frog-egg-soaked pair of bathing shorts and passed them down. At that moment, Percy felt a sharp jab in the back of his neck.

‘Thank you Percy,’ Mr Palmer smiled, as Percy dropped, unconscious, into the pond.

Mr Winterbottom came out from behind a bush. ‘I’ll just be taking him,’ he smiled.

‘Sure, Mr Winterbottom,’ Mr Palmer nodded.
Mr Winterbottom took Percy’s body, covered it in a piece of tarpaulin, and dragged it away.

‘Yay! I’m not naked anymore, boys!’ Mr Winterbottom cried happily..

Percy had been tied to a tree. His ex-teacher smirked, tossing an axe in his hands.

‘Well Percy, I bet you feel pretty clever! Getting me fired like this.’

Percy shook his head, not being able to reply with tape across his mouth.

‘Look what you’ve reduced me to. I used to rule Year Eight! I was the most powerful co-ordinator in the entire year level! I could do anything! That is, until you came along. Well, I just have one wish before I kill you, Percy.’

Percy looked puzzled. There were television shows he’d heard about, in which a dying person would be granted a wish. Mr Winterbottom had obviously never heard about these shows.

‘I am blonde. I’m sure you’ve noticed that, Percy. Well, let me tell you something! Being blonde may be fine for a woman, but it’s not the same for men! Women don’t care if you’re blonde or not! It’s awful!’

Percy nodded.

‘And when I saw you Percy, with your head of brown hair…I hated you. From the moment I saw you!’

Stav had brown hair, Percy wanted to say. He didn’t seem to hate him.

‘Do me a favour and cut it off, Percy,’ Mr Winterbottom chuckled wickedly, handing across a pair of scissors. ‘I want to see you bald! Bald! Bald!’

Mr Winterbottom let one of his arms loose from the rope. Percy took the scissors and reluctantly snipped off a piece of his hair.

‘Come on! Faster! I want to see you bald, Percy, so that everyone can see what a loser you really are!’

And for the next hour, Percy’s hair was stripped away. Soon he would have a naked head.

‘I’m nearly dry now,’ Mr Palmer told his students, as he sat wiping a tadpole out of his beard. ‘It’s nearly lunch now. I thought that for our next experiment, I would show that eating is part of putting science into a real life situation. And what better thing to eat than a horse!’

Just as he said that, he was saturated from his head down to his feet. He turned around and there he was! Roger O’Callahan!

‘Wet? Then perhaps you need an umbrella!’ he smiled. ‘Why get wet when you can stay dry!’

Mr Palmer was not prepared to take any more of this man’s garbage. If it was war he wanted, then it was war he’d get!

‘Okay boys! Charge!’ he roared, pointing at the camp owner fiercely. When they didn’t move, Mr Palmer realised he had to do it himself.

‘Are you sure you’re not interested?’ Roger asked. ‘They’re great fun! Haven’t you ever seen "Singing in the Rain!" Where would the fun be in that without a few umbrellas?’ He backed away slowly from the science teacher’s open hands, which were aiming for his throat.

‘Any last words, Umbrella Man?’ Mr Palmer sneered.

Still backing away, Roger began to sing a reprise of his song:

But Mr Palmer snatched the microphone from Roger’s hands and threw it into the pond.

‘I’ll get you for that!’ Roger said angrily. ‘Let’s see you get out of this one!’

He unfolded his umbrella and span it in circles extremely fast. So fast that it cut off half of Mr Palmer’s beard.

‘No! My beard! My precious beard!’ Mr Palmer whimpered. ‘How dare you! I’ll kill you, Umbrella Man!’

‘You’ll have to catch me first!’

Mr Palmer chased angrily after Roger with a large rock in his hand. The students followed in curiosity. This class was almost as interesting as the time the same teacher had got them all drunk to test their car driving skills.

‘Yes! Yes!’ You’re bald, you loser! Bald!’

The scissors had been removed. Mr Winterbottom was quite pleased. His wish had been fulfilled, so all that was needed now would be to kill him, and his day would be a success.

‘Daddy?’ his son asked suddenly. ‘What are you doing with that axe?’

Mr Winterbottom turned around in shock. What were his wife and kids doing here?

‘You told us that you were going hunting!’ she asked with a frown. ‘Why have you tied little Percy to that tree!’

‘Well…’ Mr Winterbottom began.

‘I am ashamed of you! You have lied to your family! You told us that you were going hunting!’

‘I was!’ Mr Winterbottom insisted. ‘Hunting for Percy!’

‘You misled us, Saul!’ she cried. ‘That was a lie of omission! A lie where you deliberately left out information to mislead us!’

Mr Winterbottom left Percy’s side for a few seconds to talk quietly to his wife.

‘Now, I love you Christy. But I don’t ever want you to mention my name around a student again!’

‘Why not? You call me Christy! Why can’t I call you Saul?’

‘Because it is dangerous for a teacher! Once a student knows our first name, they have a certain…power!’

Christy looked at him suspiciously. ‘After this lie, I am beginning to wonder if what Percy said was true. Have you been fired, Saul?’

‘Don’t call me Saul!’

‘Have you?’ she snapped.

He dropped his head. ‘Yes, dear. Yes I have.’

He picked up Emily and hugged her. ‘I am sorry to everyone here. I have lied and cheated. I guess daddies can be wrong, too!’

‘I love you dear!’ Christy laughed.

‘I love you too,’ Mr Winterbottom replied, and kissed her. Julian put his arm around his sister’s shoulder.

Percy would have to wait a few minutes before he was noticed, and untied from the tree.

‘Are you sure I can’t offer you one of our special waterproof umbrellas?’ Roger choked as he managed to take Mr Palmer’s hands off his throat.

‘Aggh!’ Mr Palmer roared, and punched the umbrella salesman in the stomach.

‘Give up!’ Roger laughed, tripping the bearded science teacher up and hitting him over the head with a large, purple umbrella. ‘You will buy an umbrella or die refusing!’

‘Not if I buy one first!’ Mr Palmer said, reaching into his pocket.

‘Really?’ Roger asked, losing his frown. ‘That wasn’t so hard, was it?’

Mr Palmer handed him a frog. ‘There’s your money!’ he laughed.

Roger looked at the frog angrily and threw it against the tree.

‘No!’ Mr Palmer cried, catching the green creature before it hit the ground. The frog wasn’t croaking. ‘You bastard! You killed Karvin! You killed Karvin the frog!’

‘Say, have you ever tried a blue umbrella? For an extra dollar, you can have an umbrella that not only protects you from rain, sun and bird droppings, but is also blue!’

‘Revenge!!!’ Mr Palmer screamed in his loud, Yorkshire voice.

‘BOTH OF YOU, SHUT UP!’ boomed another voice. A shotgun blast echoed through the hills. Mr Gleaden held two rifles in the air – one pointed at Mr Palmer and one pointed at Roger O’Callahan. ‘FOR CHRIST’S SAKE! CAN’T A MAN GET SOME SHUT-EYE?’

Both the bearded science teacher and the clean-shaven, umbrella salesman put their differences aside to stare at him in panic.

The children thought it was awesome, hooting and hollering in fact in a typical Boy College fashion. Mr Gleaden let two bullets fire into the air. Seeing that it only provoked more noise from the students, he aimed the gun straight at one terrified student – Stav Don Buolmwipe.

‘You have caused almost as much hassles today as Palmer and Roger,’ Gleaden sneered. ‘If anyone makes anymore noise, I am going to shoot!’

Thankfully, silence overcame the somewhat noisy group of people.

‘I came on this trip in the pursuit of science,’ Mr Gleaden continued. ‘I came here to educate students. I came here to relax. I didn’t come here, however, to have idiots like Palmer, doing nothing but horsing around!’

‘Gleaden, I think you need to have a hard look at your beard,’ Palmer suggested. ‘You’ll find that it is more red than it is orange.’

‘You are an imbecile. I don’t know what caused you to bring up such an irrelevant topic, but your days are numbered.’
‘This reminds me of a funny story!’ Mr Palmer grinned. ‘Once I was sneaking into the science lab, when I saw this idiot with a small red beard! I turned the gas on, lit a match and…oh wait, that was you, wasn’t it, Gleaden.’

The Winterbottom family arrived just as Mr Gleaden pointed both guns at Mr Palmer’s frightened face – as opposed to Percy, who arrived a few seconds after.

‘Don’t do it, man!’ Mr Winterbottom bellowed. ‘This madness has got to stop!’

‘Leave me alone, Winterbottom! You can kill Percy, but I’ve got my own business here!’

‘No, you see, I’ve learned something today,’ he said, walking into the middle of the conflict calmly. ‘You can’t end a problem through violence. Only through calm resolutions and negotiations can we get anywhere in life.’

Percy joined the other students on the grass and watched Mr Winterbottom as he calmed the situation down.

‘Roger, you have to understand that if people want to buy an umbrella, they’ll come to you and ask. You shouldn’t pretend that this place is a normal camp. I think you know as much as any of us that this is nothing but a sales campaign.’

Roger fell to the ground and burst into tears. ‘It’s true! All of it!’

‘And as for you, Mr Palmer, you have to understand that violence isn’t the way to deal with salesmen. You have to be polite, but firm. Otherwise, they have control over your emotions.’

Mr Palmer also collapsed on the grass and howled in tears.

‘And finally, Mr Gleaden, you have to realise that even if Mr Palmer’s science experiments are slightly unorthodox, you have to admire his experimental nature. The only way we’re ever going to move forward scientifically is to try new things!’

Stav looked puzzled. ‘By the way, Mr Winterbottom, how do you know about everything that’s happened here? I thought you were just going to kill Percy and leave!’

‘Well, he has taught me a valuable lesson,’ Mr Winterbottom smiled, patting Percy on the shoulder. ‘He has taught me that that violence is never the answer.’

‘You’re right!’ Mr Gleaden snivelled, dropping his gun. ‘Mr Winterbottom, I don’t know how to thank you. You stopped me from doing something really stupid.’

‘Don’t mention it,’ Mr Winterbottom replied, giving Mr Gleaden a big hug - before twisting his arms behind his back and hammering the back of the gun over his head. Mr Gleaden lay unconscious. ‘Don’t mention it at all.’

‘Mr Winterbottom, you are to be commended. You have saved the entire class from a madman. Why we ever kept that bounty hunter at Boy College, I’ll never know.’

‘Thanks, Fr Cubicle,’ Mr Winterbottom replied.

‘Yes! I used to joke that he would kill me,’ Mr Palmer laughed. ‘I never knew that he actually would!’

‘Goop! Ha-ha-ha! Blang! Bla-bla-ha-ba!’ Hagar, the illiterate school captain laughed. He had loaded Mr Gleaden’s sedated body into the back of the school van.

‘Off to the school dungeon with him then,’ Fr Cubicle grinned, dusting his hands. ‘Mr Winterbottom, as an award for your bravery, I would like to say – you’re back on the team. Welcome back to Boy College!’

‘Awesome!’ Mr Winterbottom said with vicious excitement, waving his clenched fist. ‘Look out Year Eight! Mr Winterbottom’s back!’

‘That’s great!’ Christy Winterbottom smiled.

‘And there won’t be any more problems with you-know-who, will there?’ Fr Cubicle asked, gesturing towards Percy.

‘Oh no. I’ve realised that I don’t need to punish him with violence. I can punish him with Saturday detentions! Percy, you’re booked for rest of the year!’

‘But sir?’ Percy asked. ‘Why? What did I do wrong?’

The group laughed at him. Percy was bald and they couldn’t take him seriously.

‘I love you Saul!’ Christy laughed.

‘I love you too, dear,’ he replied. ‘I love you too.’