One seemingly innocuous action by a local teacher today named Alicia Watson has caused the biggest stir down in a Betoota Heights school staffroom since the principal got caught stealing other people’s lunches. 

The young secondary teacher did so a short time ago when she decided to treat her hungover palette to a piece of Extra gum to take the edge of what tasted like a she’d eaten dirt mixed with sweet and sour sauce in last night. 

Foolishly failing to see the potential ramifications of her actions, she pulled the new pack of Extra Soft Chew from her bag, unconcealed in broad daylight, and was immediately set upon by the vultures in the staff room. 

After the slight rustling noise alerted their attention, she was greeted by a barrage of outstretched hands hoping to scab a piece of chewy, in what is a fairly common example of the predatory behaviour displayed by most Australians from the age of 2 and up. 

In what can be expected in the schoolyard amongst her pupils, the history teacher who just ran a train wreck of a science class because no casuals were available today, was forced to hand out the majority of her packet to her fellow staff members. 

Already struggling with the day at hand following a spontaneous happy hour raid on a popular French Quarter bar last night, Watson said she didn’t have the mental fortitude to berate the usual culprits for their leeching of her gum. 

“There are two types of people in this world,” sighed Watson. 

“The people who get their round on cue, and the people who have to be reminded that it is, in fact, their round. The people who turn up to a BBQ with nothing, and the people that show up with some steaks, sausos and a salad. The people who buy chewy when they are at the shops, and the people who always want a bit of chewy, but never buy it.” 

“To all your readers out there, I would urge them to be the first person, to be the best person they can be.” 

Watson then explained that she had Year 9 History next and she couldn’t talk to us anymore. 

“I need to find everything within me to try and work myself up for the rabble of little shits. They are the volatile combination of being an unbearable age and having as little interest in the subject matter as a reserve grade footballer does in going straight home after the game for a quiet dinner with his family.”

“This isn’t going to be an enjoyable 50 minutes of my life.” 


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