Today, apparently, is World Pillow Fight Day. According to ‘Time Out’, there’ll be events around the world from A to Z – that is, Amsterdam to Zurich. London’s takes place at 3pm in Trafalgar Square, with just two rules:
“Don’t hit anyone with a camera, and don’t hit anyone without a pillow.”
Suffering as I do from an allergy to feathers, I’ll be keeping my distance. My thoughts did however turn to the prospect of girls on dorms getting in on the act – and hence into trouble, perhaps with slipper-wielding prefects. But then I remembered that it’s holiday time. Damn!
Although. maybe… a few of the boarders stayed at school during the Easter break. They’d move into one house, girls of different ages sharing a large room for a few weeks. And the housemaster would be most unhappy at having his peaceful evening disturbed by boisterous scenes upstairs. He’d arrive, cane in hand, to see pillows flying and feathers fluttering. The girls wouldn’t notice him at first; when he did tell them to “Desist!”, they’d look shocked.
“I want each of you stripped and bent over the end of her bed. You have one minute.” And he’d consult his watch.
As they waited nervously in position, he’d explain the situation. “Some of you may be in houses that are more lackadaisical when it comes to discipline. Trust me, whilst you’re under my authority, you will learn that ill-behaviour carries serious consequences.” And then he’d walk from bed to bed, picking the girls as if in random order, and administering six of the very best stripes to each.
And once each pupil had been punished, before he let them stand up? “So, I’d like the ringleader to identify herself. Whose idea was this?”
A pause, before one of their number whispered: “Mine, sir.”
“Then you are to come forward and bend over and touch your toes in front of me. And the rest of you: stand up, and watch what happens to girls who make trouble.” Six more strokes, each tear-jerkingly severe, before she was told to stand.
“You can clear the mess up in the morning before breakfast. Now: one more minute to put on your pyjamas and get into your beds.” And he watched them dress in silence, and climb under their sheets, before flicking off the light and closing the heavy door firmly behind him.
Lol thinking what fun the girls in your house might have given you are likely to be away from the dorm for fear of the deadly feathers. A pillow fight might be rather tame though in the circumstances. Am thinking all sorts of wicked thoughts 😉
Pillow Fights … those were the days! One of those locations is reasonably close, sadly we have other plans for today.
“But then I remembered that it’s holiday time. Damn!” It’s nice to let us readers get a glimpse of the kind of difficulties you run into when perverting reality. Luckily, you found a way around that one.
Collective punishment brings up all kinds of interesting emotions. I wonder what it feels like for the others to watch the “ringleader” get double. It must be a powerful coctail. Relief it’s not you? Sure. A sense of injustice because the idea itself was pretty good and that girl was not really any more responsible than anyone else for not remembering that killjoy teacher downstairs? Probably. An awareness that, at a high price, they get a bonding experience much stronger than a pillow fight? I doubt it … but I hope it’ll come later, in the dark, mixing with the pain.
Your posts are a little bit repetitive, aren’t they?
I’ve never been in a pillow fight! I must get into one! Maybe I get spanked for it too, but doubt it.
I loved this post! 😀
I apologise for having said that! Do forgive me, please.
A delightful scenario to ponder on a Sunday afternoon. Thank you 😉