Horror High 1 by Paul Stafford Page A

class, the school and the world a favour and shut up! ’
    â€˜Yes, sir.’
    Grimsweather shot the dense boy an evil glare. Dandyline grinned broadly in return, his jumbo buckteeth sliding outfrom under his top lip like a jump-jet’s hydraulic landing gear.
    Grimsweather shook his head as though there was something loose in his brain, and slowly opened the huge leather-bound rollcall book. He took a deep breath and began reading. ‘Dandyline.’
    â€˜Yes, sir?’
    Again he sighed. ‘I’m reading the roll, Dandyline, and unfortunately your name is first on it. So, if you are present – in body if not necessarily in mind – please answer “present”. Got it? “Present”, Dandyline.’
    â€˜Yes, sir.’
    Grimsweather spoke very softly, very slowly, as though addressing a very young, very stupid child. ‘“Present”. When I call your name, you answer as follows – “Present”. Now. Let’s try it one more time. Dandyline.’
    Dandyline grinned. ‘Yes, sir?’
    Grimsweather’s eyes flared like someone had embedded illegal firecrackers in his skull and lit the fuses (also illegal – called murder).
    And there was murder in those eyes as Grimsweather shouted, ‘ Present! ’
    â€˜Where?’ asked Dandyline eagerly.
    â€˜What?’ snapped Grimsweather.
    â€˜Where’s my present? Oh, I know – this is another of your April Fool’s jokes, isn’t it, sir. Well, you won’t catch me a second time.’
    Grimsweather looked ready to whip out a crossbow and get medieval on the entire class, but instead took three deep breaths like his shrink had taught him. ‘Dandyline, you’re like a disease that nobody wants to catch a first time, let alone a second. I’ll assume you are here today, even if your brain is still in yesterday.’
    Dandyline opened his mouth but his reply was chopped off dead by Grimsweather’s vicious glower.
    â€˜Nathan Grim-Reaper,’ read Grimsweather from the rollcall book. ‘Nathan Grim-Reaper? Where is Mr Grim-Reaper today? Anybody know?’
    â€˜He’s busy with the April Fool’s DayCommittee, sir,’ answered Dandyline. ‘He’s the committee head this year.’
    â€˜Dandyline,’ hissed Grimsweather, ‘if I were you I wouldn’t interrupt and I certainly wouldn’t interrupt mentioning heads, or yours might roll.’
    â€˜Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Just saying, sir, that Nathan Grim-Reaper won’t be here today. Because, apart from being head of the committee, he also has to get his missing book back, sir, or his mother will murder him. Don’t like his chances, sir.’
    â€˜Dandyline, did I ask you?’ said Grimsweather. ‘Do I look like the sort of idiot who would listen to a single stupid word you said?’
    â€˜No, sir,’ replied Dandyline brightly. ‘You look like an entirely different idiot altogether, sir.’
    â€˜ What! ’ shrieked Grimsweather. ‘What did you say, Dandyline? You’re heading for a beheading unless you can explain that last comment, boy.’
    â€˜Err, nothing, sir. That is, what I meant to say was, well, like, you know, and that …’
    â€˜Have you ever made sense in your life, Dandyline, or is it against your religion?’
    â€˜No, sir,’ Dandyline replied, grinning. ‘My religion is make-up, sir.’
    â€˜Make-up?’ A nauseating vision of Dandyline preening in front of a mirror, painted up with lipstick and eye shadow and pineapples in his headdress sashayed into Grimsweather’s head to the party beat of Caribbean kettledrums.
    â€˜Make-up?’ gaped Grimsweather. ‘You mean lipstick and eye shadow?’
    Dandyline beamed. ‘I mean I make it up as I go along. Sir.’
    Grimsweather gritted his teeth. ‘I hope you washed your neck, Dandyline, because it’s got a date with the