“Yes, Spockings, that is my Swishing Zone as some of the boys like to call it. It is not a place that many want to visit twice.”
I turned to face him. Seated behind his desk, with his chin resting on his entwined fingers and his elbows resting on the desk, his intelligent piercing eyes looked me up and down, assessing this first-form schoolboy and no doubt determining his fate.
“Now Spockings do you consider that the brawl you initiated on the corporation bus yesterday warrants a painful trip to the Swishing Zone?”
“No Sir! I did not start it – it was the secondary modern schoolboys. They started it by teasing me and saying bad things about this school.”