THE CURSE OF THE KILLER SOCKS One day last year after doing PE
We came back to class at a quarter to three
And Mr McGeorge, as he opened the door,
Took one little sniff then passed out on the floor.
Well, I looked at Brian and then looked at Pete,
Cos everyone knows about Pete and his feet,
They're famously smelly, it's known far and wide,
When Pete takes his shoes off the skunks run and hide.
And all of the time that we'd been in the hall
Pete's socks had been hung on a pipe on the wall.
The hot water pipe, which was warm as fresh toast,
And Pete's socks had started to steamily roast
Now most of our teachers know just what is what,
They'd not let Pete's socks near to anything hot,
But Mr McGeorge was just here on supply,
And no one had warned him, I can't tell you why.
So Jennifer ran to the classroom next door,
And came running back with Miss Biggs and Miss Moore,
Who saw straight away what it was that was wrong,
And cried "Oh my word, what a terrible pong!"
"I think it's my socks, Miss" said Pete with a sigh
"I didn't expect that a teacher would die!
I just hung them up on the pipe on the wall
And left them there while we all went in the hall"
"Good heavens above!" cried Miss Biggs to Miss Moore,
"Did nobody tell him to not shut the door?
Those socks have been cooking for over an hour
And seem to have gained a most frightening power!"
Just then with a groan like a hippo in pain,
Our teacher sat up and then fainted again.
And Isobel cried as she cushioned his head
"Thank goodness for that, we all thought you was dead!"
"Now Pete," said Miss Moore with a sort of a shout
"you'd better go in there and get those socks out.
But don't bring them into thr corridor, pray,
Just open the window and throw them away."
"I'll do it right now" replied Pete with a smile
"But I have to admit it may take me a while.
They've never stunk this bad, not once, do you see?
Those socks are so ripe that they're getting to me!"
He shook all our hands as if going to war,
He straightened his shoulders and went through the door,
then crossing the room, by the window he stood,
And threw them all open as wide as he could.
A gentle breeze started to blow 'cross the floor,
And wafted the worst of the stink through the door,
And just as our teacher sat up with a strain,
The smell hit his nose and he fainted again.
As Peter edged closer towards his strange prey,
It almost appeared that the socks moved away,
The air round them rippled, like waves on a pond,
While Pete battled on like my hero, James Bond.
He was holding his nose and tears washed down his face,
But Pete struggled forward till, reaching the place
Where hung those socks smugly upon the hot pie,
He stretched out and gathered them up with a swipe.
the socks seemed to struggle, but Pete's grip was strong,
He wasn't deterred by the terrible pong.
He made for the window that stood open wide
And let out a yell as he threw them outside.
Then taking a lungful of fragrant fresh air,
Pete turned round again with a roar like a bear,
He staggered his way 'cross the room to the door
And slowly collapsed in a heap on the floor.
As soon as Pete passed through the doorway to us,
Miss Biggs and Miss Moore started making a fuss,
'Cause Mr McGeorge had awakened just then,
But Pete kicked his head so he fainted again.
It was just after this that the Fire Brigade came,
And closed down the school, which was really a shame.
Next day it reopened, except for Class Ten,
And some say it may never open again.
And what of the socks? They have never been seen,
Though the grass that they landed on never grows green.
And some folks do say if you go there at night,
You'd best be prepared for a terrible fright!
When evening is misty, and full is the moon,
When the wind whistles gently the eeriest tune,
When empty cans clatter and trees seem to talk,
then Pete's evil socks both come out for a walk...
George Ansell |
