Me: Hey Stevo

Stevo: Yow what’s up?

Me: Yeah, what’s up with that teacher Mr. Wilson?

Stevo: Mr. Wilson? Who’s Mr. Wilson?

Me: You know, that teacher that teaches maths, geeky thick glasses, bold and has a moustache that looks he has a dead squirrel glued to his face?

Stevo: Ohhh. . . you mean Mr. Willis.

Me: Yeah, Yeah him, he’s always so moody and gives us loads of homework. My first day and already I have to do all of unit one of my textbook.

Stevo: He’s always been like that, believes in his ‘routine’.

Me: And why’s his room so old fashioned?

Stevo: You mean the splintered wooden chairs and rough unpolished tables?

Me: YEAH, I HATE THOSE STUPID CHAIRS!! THEY HURT MY . . .

Stevo: You don’t have to tell me I know what you mean.

Me: Well, at least there’s one normal teacher at this school and that’s Mr. Howman.

Stevo: He’s nice and calm probably because he’s new to this school.

Me: Oh, he’s new to this school?

Stevo: Yeah, that’s why his classroom doesn’t have much furniture in it yet.

Me: We don’t even have to do actual English work in his periods just stand around acting out plays about mummies.

Stevo: I don’t even participate in the plays, I just sit and bludge somewhere in the corner.

Me: O really? I might do that too, and since he’s so kind and friendly all the time most likely we won’t get in deep trouble.

Stevo: We can both take advantage of him!

Me: Well you can put it that way.

Stevo: Sounds like a good plan, ha ha!