Warning! This is Fanfiction, and on no account are any of the following true. We would take no responsibility if repeating it in front of your teacher lands you in detention!


Chapter 5: 6000 Hertz

Miss Primrose stepped haughtily and somewhat pompously into the third-form classroom, looking around with disgust like a fussy grandmother surveying an unruly teenage niece's room. The students were all looking attentively at her, except Frank. Said annoying boy was hunched over his desk, scribbling furiously on a fifth-form workbook and looking rather serious.

"Good morning, class," the fat, mouldy cheesecake announced. Everyone but Frank scrambled up in a feigned haste to greet the Primrose. The teacher frowned disapprovingly at the rude pupil and marched over.

Frank had just grasped a very complicated concept and was about to write his conclusions down when a disgusting odour collided like a ton of towering bricks on him, stopping his train of thought effectively.

Looking up, the boy came face-to-face with an enormous pot belly. He blinked, distracted, before regaining his senses.

"You just broke my concentration!" he yelled angrily. "You really ought to change that 'perfume' of yours, or was that your breath? What scent was it, anyway? Decomposing pumpkins festered with maggots and a healthy dose of rotten, worm-infested lettuce smeared with garlic? I feel ill! Go away, please. I just might stop enjoying pumpkin juice now."

Primrose swelled with rage, her already-large stomach expanding even more. Frank's triplet brothers watched on in amusement, but Frank's disgusted face soon prompted them to add fuel to the fire.

Fred and Frans began to sniff like security dogs at airport luggage checkpoints at the rapidly inflating Primrose. The teacher hastily beat a quick retreat, glaring at the triplets who feigned a ghastly mixture of innocence and ignorance. Frank went back to his physics work. Fred grinned.

"You know, Mizz Primrose ol' buddy, you'll have the entire class in the sanatorium within an hour if you continue like this. Instead of applying some strong, fancy perfume on yourself, (which you can't pull off anyway,) I recommend that you just stick with the classical talcum power. You can't go wrong with that! You should really take a look at a fashion magazine. It's sold quite cheaply if ordered in bulk…"

Frank and Frans both sniggered. The whole class did, too. She didn't have much chance of going wrong, anyway. This was as bad as it could get. As they say, when down, there's nowhere to go but up! Unfortunately, Primrose did not share that same idea.

"That's it!" she exploded, flinging her flabby arms up in the air. The arms, of course, sagged lower. "I am reporting the three of you to the principal for severe misconduct!"

The teacher sat back and waited, a smug smile on her beetroot-purple face. She obviously expected the triplets to beg for mercy, but they looked neither scared nor apologetic. Primrose was surprised. "Right this instant!" she added hopefully, searching for some adverse reaction. Her words had no effect on the battle-hardened class.

Unfazed by Primrose's bellowing, Fred continued knowledgably without batting an eyelid:

"It is a well-known school rule that all misbehaviour be reported to the Head Boy straight away. There will be no need to tell the principal, since all you teachers obviously think this mundane task of dishing out punishments is beneath you. You do know who the Head Boy is, don't you? Good. Once you do, life becomes easier. Just take us to him, and knock on the door. When it opens, ask for a Za-"

"I know what to do!" shrieked Primrose agitatedly. "You don't have to tell me!"

Unbeknownst to her, Frans had quietly placed a bottle of some kind on the floor. The bottle had trembled when the Primrose had begun screeching, but was now vibrating madly back and forth like a maniac.

"For now…" Voice rising in pitch, the crow cawed in the most unbelievable fashion, "For now…"

CRACK! Frans's bottle could not withstand the torturous seismic vibrations, and had shattered into tiny pieces at last. Frank looked up from the broken pieces littering the floor, a stopwatch in his hand and a smug grin on his face.

"I knew it! 6000 hertz, exactly! Pay up, you two! I won!" Primrose blinked, astonished, as Fred groaned and handed some money over. Frans did the same.

Frank looked satisfied, and money clinked as it changed hands. "So sorry, Ms Primrose," he said smartly, facing the flabbergasted teacher, "but what were you saying again?"

Ms Primrose was stunned, frozen like a cockroach staring as a foot came down to squash it. It quickly evaporated into pure rage, though.

Marching up to Frank, she roughly yanked him to the front of the class by his collar. Now she could keep an eye on the 'naughty, rude delinquent'. Frank choked with rage (literally). He would be rudely observed and would have to forgo his delicate privacy!

Frans was next - he was not to be spared. The boy was dragged all the way to the back of the class, and dumped unceremoniously onto an available seat. Frans frowned deeply. There was a 'well-padded' classmate sitting in front of him. How bothersome. He could tell that this was not going to be a good year. How was one supposed to study if one couldn't even see the notes, much less copy them?

Fred also received the same treatment. He was brought to the centre of the class, where the dratted fan blew eternally. At once, all his worksheets started flying about because of the strong gusts made by the reckless typhoon creator. The class looked like a tornado had ripped through it in minutes.

Fred was not happy. Neither were Frans and Frank. The triplets were not happy at all. She asked for it! Primrose was going to have a riot on her hands. Prepare the battleships! Invasion 1.0 is now in progress!


The bottle is made up by us. It just adds humour to the story, hmm? Now review. Flamers welcome (See how desperate we are?).