The egg-throwing teacher has warned us that not every chuck will be the same, he might spin it, drop it, flip it or imbue the doomed ovulation with other plummeting characteristics, so our putative designs have to cope with unexpected turbulence like Thomas a'Becket when he was defenestrated in Prague after that joke he made about Kim Jong Un's hair. This project bears a huge likeness to the one we did in Scouts, only the egg was catapulted. Ben and I are team-mates and he's got a brand new bag for the parachute and I've got lots of bubblewrap and foam and cardboard from Bud's work.
It might be said that the best way to keep an egg safe is to keep it in the ovary, but that option is not open to us, as the ovaries are probably Chicken McMorsels by now.
Also, we were able to apply for roles in the Year 5 production, with singing and dancing roles, speaking parts, or 'Nothing at all'. I applied for everything except Nothing, er.
In Extra-Swimming we did special exercises that aren't in the book, apparently, although as I've never seen the book I can't confirm this. The Mother Superior made me swim on my side with a float in one hand doing the Man-From-Atlantis wiggle (and I'm a top quality wiggler) and then said I have a split personality. This is a slanderous and baseless accusation, none of my personalities are split.
But the sky looked bright and promising, like my future.
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