It's behind you!
Oliver from drama is perched at the front of the stage, swinging his legs happily. We have just finished our first rehearsal of the school pantomime. "Right," he claps his hands together. "Any questions?"
"Er, I've got one," pipes Annette, raising her hand nervously. "You know the scene where I'm dressed up as the Lamb of Innocence and I'm wearing the Chains of Injustice and I have to pop through that big door ... ".
" ... to the Slaughterhouse of Deceit," Oliver nods contentedly.
" ... and then spend the next five minutes emitting blood-curdling screams while the entire geography department sing Carmina Burana."
"Well, you don't think that's a bit downbeat for a Christmas pantomime?"
Oliver shakes his head confidently. "Not at all. You see, Christmas is a time for reflection and change, which is why I decided to make the whole of this year's pantomime a metaphor for the Iraq war."
There is a moment's silence while the assembled staff take this in.
"Right," says Steve from the PE department. "So the scene where I have to strip down to my underpants and ululate while the modern languages department lash me with the Whip of a Thousand Stings ... ".
" ... that's a metaphor for the Allied Forces' martyrdom of a once-proud nation."
"Because to be honest, the baby oil's giving me a bit of a rash on my, y'know."
"Well we can't cover that up. It symbolises Kuwait."
Graham from geography raises his hand.
"I'm a little concerned about the finale."
Oliver looks at him blankly.
"I like the singing element. That's good. But I just wonder if the fact we're singing 'Guilty, guilty, guilty' while throwing buckets of fake blood over the audience rather sours the atmosphere."
Oliver glares at him icily. "I like irony."
"I know you do" He draws a breath. "But perhaps we could take a vote. Now, all those for Jack and the Beanstalk raise their hands ... ". There is uproar. When I look around, Oliver is nowhere to be seen.
Love Kate x.