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The day of the unholy ulcer.

Along time ago, on a cold, wet and boring, yet average Thursday afternoon I’d just endured a very uneventful R.E lesson. I’d spent the lesson eating some lovely crisps and listening to The Smiths while spinning around on a swirly chair. I was now on my way to my first English lesson of the term.
As soon as I entered the classroom, my lip started pulsating with agony. I sat down and started poking Mouse’s face to soothe the pain. Sir then asked me to remove my jacket. After this request he added a nice little comment; ‘Though it is a very nice jacket’. I felt a giant wave of pride in my jacket. Moving on, the pain was coming from an ulcer – namely Betty – on the side of my silly, pink gums and was now more excruciating than ever. Betty was horrible, I wished death upon her. I’d made plans to get the little jelly man to kill her. I soon discarded those ideas because they would involve more discomfort, as Bonjela made my mouth feel like fire. Betty was the ugliest little white blob I had ever seen and she tasted/smelt/felt/looked/sounded like pain – it was really quite awful.