Sometime in the early 80's, consumer electronics 'giant' Tefal ran an ad campaign featuring a collection of scientists clad in white coats demonstrating various products they had supposedly developed. To show just how brainy they were they had really large heads, not rounder, just taller, with a hairline about a foot away from their eyes.

Sadly for several kids with larger than average foreheads in the lower years at our high school, this advertising campaign was more successful than Tefal could have possibly ever dreamed.

At random breaktimes for a whole year the cry "TEFAL!" would go up, after which everyone in hearing distance would tear after some poor first year, chasing him all round the school if necessary. When he was finally pinned in a corner, one of the older kids in front would pull out a Trevor Francis ruler, measure his forehead and then shout out the total, adding on at least 5 centimetres for effect. The surrounding mob would then chant "TEFAL!, TEFAL!, TEFAL!" until breaktime finished, a teacher broke it up or the 'Tefal' cried too much, whichever came first. Looking back, the whole scene was like something out of 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers'.

Fictional pop group featured in the Longmans Audio Visual French books.
Jean-Paul et Claudette would purchase "le dernier disque de Telephone" every fricking Saturday, without fail. If they really wanted to live life on the edge, they went swimming afterwards.

A great way of briefly scaring the shit out of somebody, without actually doing something they can be really angry about.

Your mate is standing on a ridge / riverbank / cliff. Push him hard toward the edge, and then yank him back in one fluid movement whilst shouting "Tell yer Mam I saved your life!"

We never actually did this on a cliff, but the minging pond in the school grounds was a popular choice.

Being harder than you, the hard kids would just push you in, shouting "Tell yer Mam I couldn't be bothered!"
That pond stunk.

"I'm telling of you" meaning I don't like you and I am going to report your (real or made-up) bad behaviour to the teacher who likes me best and you least. Ha ha. I'm telling of you.

As we have known for thousands of years, it is possible to determine the time of day by observing the position of the sun in the sky.
Ben Earnshaw claimed that his own body was accurate to the second using this method.
We challenged him to tell us the time, and checked an R2D2 digital watch to make sure he was REALLY precise. We were therefore amazed when he put the time at around 7:30 in the evening.
We were at school, and it was dinner break, the retarded fuckwit.

You may be approached by a peer who informs you they're telling on you. If this news is imparted with a musical lilt, the game is afoot. You are obliged to ask why. The other party will respond with a reason, which must rhyme. Reasons I can recall include: * Because you jumped on a lorry and you didn't say sorry * Because you walked in the garden and you didn't say 'pardon' * Because you went to the toilet, and you pulled the chain, and out came a great big chuffer train Particularly ingenious rhymes will spread throughout the playground rapidly, but no-one will ever believe that you made it up.

Short for Temporary Speaking Ban. A kind of unilateral jinx, which prevents a person who just came out with a really shit joke speaking for around five minutes.
Five minutes is a rough guide - to be honest, the first time you speak after a temp ban is inviting people to resume belittling you with comments like "aren't you on a temp ban for coming out with shit like that?" and punching. You're better off just starting with a clean slate the next day.
Even worse jokes can result in a perm ban, which is valid for the remainder of the unfunny prick's academic life.

A small, financially challenged kid who would run round shouting 'Ten Pence!' in a high pitched mongoloid manner. Once given 10p, he would run around giving you a piggyback until he collapsed from exhaustion.

A bet in which the closest participant to score closest to 10% on an important exam without going under wins.
Patently open to abuse by the "you didn't really try to get 10%, did you? Christ, it was only a joke and now you've thrown your future out of the window" brigade.

Equipment:
One pair of your granny's tights
One tennis ball

How to play:
Put one leg of the tights inside the other. Put the tennis ball into the foot end of the tights. Grab the gusset end, stand against a wall in the shape of a star, and swing the ball against the wall in a mad frenzy whilst singing playground songs such as "A sailor went to sea, sea, sea".

Purpose of game:
Absolutely none at all.

WARNING: Overzealous bouncing may cause occasional black eyes and sore bollocks.

A man who forged the sound of weak, piss driven soul music to new low. So to warrant him the credit he deserved, we named the Wimpy classic dish - Brown Derby - after him. The Brown Derby was basically a picasso dog shit, it had a doughnut made from Nutty Slack, it was covered in white hormonal cream and the topping of chipped lego was divine. Wimpy's also make a "double bender" burger. They're asking for it, really.

A statement which started as a joke,but which evolved in many interesting ways, my favourite being as a method of absolution.
E.g."Terrance, if you're not going to shut up, you're going to have to leave the room."
"It's not his fault miss, his dad's on crack."
It was used so often that people started to believe that Terrance's dad WAS actually on crack, and things got so bad that Terrance's dad eventually felt the need to pay a visit to our class. He explained that he was not on crack, and was actually a factory worker. We all remained silent throughout the speech, until my friend Nick raised his hand.
"Yes?" said Terrance's dad.
"How can you afford to raise a family and keep up a crack habit on a factory worker's salary?"

Where a Trevor buys his best clothes, as in

Let's all go to Tesco's,
Where Trevor buys his best clothes,
They are so nif-ty,
for one pound fif-ty.

Again, another entry where the punchline of the joke is somewhat deflated by the heading, which effectively is the punchline. So, you ask "Have you ever had a big juicy fanny wrapped around your head?", and they say "No", so you say "Eurrrq! Test tube baby, test tube baby!"

You will need : sunlight, watch. The object: to reflect sunlight from your watch onto the testicles of the unsuspecting teacher. If he is wearing clothes, aim at the crotch of his trousers. Divert your beam away from the teacher once he has begun to suspect that the entire class is laughing at his nob. Conceivably, if everyone in the class did the same thing, you could set the teachers testicles on fire. In larger classes, you could sear through the testicles as a laser.

Texas Instruments = poor man's Casio = objects of derision for the brainy
For use in lower set maths classes only.
(They also specialised in brightly-coloured over-chunky protractor, compasses and set square packs, for ham-fisted thickos.)

When you fart, you say 'Texas'. If someone else farts and you say 'Sixer' before they say 'Texas', you're allowed to give them six dead arms without fear of reprisal. Though you probably won't want to do so straight away, what with the cloud of their eggy banner still mushrooming from their backside.

I only know what whetstone, kindling, and trestle tables are because of Erik The Viking. And the fastest thing I can type - to this day - is say to thorin "carry me", thanks to The Hobbit.

At primary school we were told by one kid in our year that his big brother (in secondary school) had textbooks with swears in. Official schoolbooks with real swears. We saw no reason to disbelieve this; they were big kids in secondary school after all, who had probably all drunk beer and had lots of porn and sex, so they must be given text books with swears in because they were so grown up.

Later on, we realised that we had been conned; not because we'd got to secondary school and were expecting to receive our sweary textbooks, but because we found out that this kid had no big brother. All those years we had known him, and even been to his house. And then we suddenly found out from his mother that he had no brother; it was a quite a shock.
I think that part of us died that day, when we found out that swearing textbooks didn't exist. The fucking Tricolore was no substitute at all.

Miss Williams was the Textile Beast. So called because she taught Textiles, and was some sort of beast who hunted anyone who went near her eggs, which she kept in the roof. Eventually it turned out she wore latex feet to cover up her hooves and she could sprout wings if attacked from above. She would lay eggs using a needle-like gland that came out of her anus and she would inject foetusses into eggshells that she made from the bones of those who angered her.
Please note that the Egg Gland came out of her anus.

Regular doubles, except with balls/racquets clutched between elbows in order to simulate stumpy deformities of unfortunate thalidomide victims.

Inexplicably patronising statement made by most teachers when they turn the lights down to show the class a video about factories.
Realising even this patronising statement was a little highbrow for the more retarded pupils, they would normally add - and that means without talking.

Write clearly on your leg "Not my leg". When somebody asks you why you've got that written on your leg you simply reply "That's not my leg."

A put down that doesn't really require you to listen to the other person's comment. Unless the person you are speaking to has just said "oh, it's an ant struggling to climb over two tiny pebbles".

The sullen statement that came, seemingly out of nowhere, by Andy, after we'd been laughing at the suicide of our French teacher's wife for 15 minutes, including a detailed reenactment of him discovering the body.
We're still not sure what Andy was getting at.