The Setup (reposted by request) (m+/m)

[frankburns]

Preamble note:

Anyone who grew up in the UK in the '60s will understand this scenario. Anyone else, just an insight to UK schoollife in the 'old days'

NOTE:(Premium Bonds were like a gamble on soccer results, you had to forecast the results of several teams and get points if you were right. Get enough points and you win, more points=more winnings. Like an early version of the lottery)

(Ten Shilling was old UK currency = half a pound or 50p now. In the 1960's You could go to the films, get fish and chips, or even get drunk {if over 21} with ten shillings [10/-] and still have change to catch the bus home)


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Part 1

Now everyone knows that the first few days, or even weeks of High School are some of the most worrying, and maybe even the most frightening of a boys school life. In one day you transform from the big kid in Primary, to the smallest in High School. You were the tough guy, now the littlest weed. At least most would go home every night. Every weekend, you could meet up with old friends, who hadn't moved up and be the Big Kid once more. It was just about tolerable.

This was not the case for 11 year old Jack. His parents had won the 'premium bonds', not a Hugh jackpot, but enough to keep them in comfort for many years to come. Now that would be great for most kids but not for Jack. His parents had decided to send him to a posh private boarding school or boring school, as most called them.

One of the few good things, here in the '60s, is that when you go to High School you get your first pair of long trousers. It's a big thing. You feel and look all grown up. No longer a little kid. But even that had been taken away from Jack. This posh school he was going to, had, for some reason, felt that the 'Big Day' would be when the boys got to be 13, a teenager. Until then they were still just little kids and as such wore shorts and long socks.

A few days before he was due to go, his new uniform arrived. His mother, bless her, thought he should try it on. So he had to.. He stood in their living room, white shirt, a dark blue tie with pale blue diagonal strips. A grey blazer with pale blue trim and a weird crest on the breast pocket. Short grey trousers that almost reached his knees, so there was room for growth, Long grey socks pulled neatly up to the bottom of his knees with pale blue bands round the tops which were turned over.

She smiled and looked him over. "Oh my, Jack, you do look smart." She said. His father not quite sure, he still remembered his schooldays. What is with mothers... They never want their kids to grow up!

"Would you pop the shop dear, we need some milk?" She asked Jack. For an instant he looked horrified. He thought he'd get beaten up at least 10 times if he went out dressed like he was.

His father came to his rescue. "Get changed first..I don't want you spoiling that uniform, and I left a little present on your bed."

"OK." He said, thankfully, and went upstairs, wondering what his father had bought him. A package sat on his bed. Excitedly he ripped it open. No. It was not a pair of longs, this was better, in fact it was the best thing he every saw.

"Jeans.." He said excitedly. "I actually got JEANS."

He almost tore off the school uniform, then put on a Manchester United top. Then slowly, almost religiously he pulled on the jeans. Denim rubbing on his legs. He never knew it could be feel so good. He opened his wardrobe door to reveal the full length mirror and there before him stood a BIG boy. No a BIG TOUGH GUY.

He ran downstairs and jumped all over his father. "Your the best dad in the whole world. You actually got me some jeans". For some reason his mother didn't seem all that happy, her little boy now looking all grown up.

"Here's some money, go get the milk and you can keep the change." His dad gave him a ten shilling note. A fortune to the young boy.

"Dad your not just the best.. Your the very very very very best. I love you so much."

"You never said that when I spanked you for not doing your homework." His father said. "In fact I thought you said you hated me."

"That was last week... Look JEANS." He said as he ran out to get the milk.

The next few days were absolute magic for Jack, He almost lived in his jeans. All his mates jealous of him. But then the dreaded day came. The day his parents had to take him to the boring school. His delight transformed to worry as he sat in the car, in that dreaded uniform, a few clothes and games packed it the boot.. And a double whammy of upset. He found out that the school actually BANNED jeans, they would have to stay at home.

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Part 2

Jack actually settled in quite quickly. He found that the lower school, up to age 13, was just about separate from the upper school, 13 and over. So all the kids wore the same uniform.

Excepting for the prefects, who had almost total freedom, the Upper school didn't mix with the lower school. So the 'dreaded' uniform was largely forgotten and never a problem.

He shared a room with two other boys of the same age and they all got on really well. So all those rumors he had heard of living in a huge dormitory and getting bullied every day were largely lies. But that all changed a few weeks in, when 15 year old Fitzwilliam was appointed Prefect. Everyone said that he only became prefect cus his parents were mega rich and made a big donation to the school. All the prefects were helpful and considerate, even helping the younger boys with their prep. Not Fitzwilliam. He had gone completely power crazy.

One of the first days of his prefect-ship was awful for Jack and his two friends. He came in for room inspection. Threw all the young boys work around, turned over Jacks bed. Broke a little box belonging to one of them, who burst out crying. Apparently it was gift from his grandfather who had now died. All the young boy had to remember him.

"This room is a disgrace." Get it cleaned up. I'll be back in 5 minutes." He shouted. Went out and slammed the door.

He wasn't back in 5 minutes. He was back in less than 2. "I told you to get this room tidy." He shouted. He grabbed Peter, one of Jacks friends and twisted his arm high behind his back, causing him to cry out. After a few minutes he threw him across the room. "You." He pointed at Philip, the other friend. "Get here." Terrified, Philip remained transfixed. Fitzwilliam went over behind him and grabbed him from behind, locking his arms beneath Philips and up behind his head in a full nelson hold then twisted hard forcing the young boys head down 'til he too started crying. He was then tossed across the room. Then it was young Jack who he grabbed, forced him down on his face and twisted his legs into a vicious figure four leg lock, keeping the pressure up til he, like the others was a mass of tears.

"Next time you do as I say quicker, or it'll be worse. If you dare report this. I'll deny it, and you'll find out just what pain is. I know how to hurt you bad and not leave a mark so noone will believe you anyway." Fitzwilliam said as left the room and the three boys all in a real mess.

For two weeks, two days a week Fitzwilliam came in, wrecked the room then beat up the three boys. The boys had had enough. Jack convinced them to speak with Warren, another prefect. Warren was understanding, but explained that there was little he could do. Fitzwilliam was in charge of their block and as such Warren had no right to go there and there never was any real evidence, nothing to say that the odd scratch or bruise was not just got in games.

"Look.." Warren told them. "I believe you, I heard the same from the dorm next door to yours. If you can figure some way to get even. Then me and the other prefects will turn a blind eye, but we can't do much else. Fitzwilliam's father just about owns the school now with all the donations he makes, the Dean and Head think he is great. We could all end up getting kicked out."

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Part 3

That evening jack sat in his dorm with Peter and Philip. "So how does a prefect become not be a prefect?" Jack asked.

"They resign." Philip said.

"Or get 50 demerits and then demoted." Peter added.

"Well Fitzwilliam aint going to resign is he. He likes beating us up too much, and Warren says he does it to all of us in the block.." Jack said.

"How come we don't hear him in the other rooms?" Philip asked.

"Quite space." Peter said. "They aint quite soundproof but the rooms have something called dampers so we don't disturb others in the block."

"We need a meeting with all of us." Jack said. "There's two doubles and two triples in the block, that's ten of us. We should be able to figure something out."

The other two agreed, Jack spent some of the next day checking with the others in his block. It seemed that every room thought they were the only ones and were too scared to say anything. The meeting would be in their common room two days later. Jack wanted to see Warren again first. That was to happened the following day between classes.

---

"Warren, how do prefects get demerits?" He asked.

"What do you have planned?" he asked.

"What you don't know you can't get in trouble for, so I don't want to tell you, the whole block is with us, but we don't know how Prefects get demerits and that's the only way to get rid of Fitzwilliam." Jack said.

"Skipping class is minus 5; Rudeness to staff is minus 5; Bullying is minus 10; being in the village out of uniform is minus 5 and Transgressing in invalid areas is minus 5. That's the one that stops us coming to your block." Warren said. "But he needs to get to minus 50 before he gets demoted. And that's 50 a term. It zeros each term, and you'll need proof. No prefect has every been demoted. I'm not sure if any have ever got a demerit, but then we never had a prefect like Fitzwilliam."

"Thanks Warren, now we can figure something out." Jack said.

"By the way. I told Grant and Burnett about it, they'll cover your backs as well as me. We don't like bullying either you know, but our hands are somewhat tied. There's not a lot we can do without actual evidence." Warren said.

"Thanks again Warren." Jack said. All of a sudden a little idea seemed to pop in Jack's head. Warrens hands are somewhat tied..."

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Part 4

So Sunday came around and so did the meeting. Jack was delighted that every boy in the block was there. Jack, who now seemed to have become the leader of the block started the meeting.

"So I spoke with Warren and he agreed that the only way to get rid of Fitzwilliam is to get him 50 demerits. Some stuff we can't do much about. Like being rude to the staff, or even the bullying we are getting cus there's no evidence. He's too careful about that so we can't even go to the Dean."

"What then. I thought we were all going to go report him?" One guy said.

"That would just be like we all ganged up and made it up just to get another prefect. The Dean wouldn't believe us, and apparently Fitzwilliam's dad is donating tuns of money, so the Dean won't want that to stop. But it aint all bad."

"What then?" Another chirped in.

"He gets demerits for skipping class, going into out of bounds areas and being in the village out of uniform. And that we can do something with."

"Yeah sure. We go to him and say go to the shop out of uniform then stay out and miss class." One said. The others all laughed.

"Well.." Jack continued. "I'm not sure if Warren dropped a hint or not. But he said his hands were tied. Sooo I thought, there's 10 of us and one of him. When he comes to smash my room. We wont be there, no one will be in their rooms. You'll all be down in the boiler room, except me and Philip, we'll make sure he sees us sneaking down. He's bound to come get us, then BANG. You all jump him. He won't stand a chance. We'll tie him up and gag him. Then stuff him in a box and cart him off to the dump in the village. The school and the villagers will be so proud of us going through the village in our uniforms collecting rubbish on the way. We might even get some merit points. Then we'll just leave him there, he'll eventually get free but he's out of uniform, he always is when he smashes up our room, and he'll have no choice but to walk back to school. Everyone in the village will see him, he'll get reported by loads of people. Bingo. Start of his demerits."

"Yes... I like that! Sweet revenge and taking out the rubbish." One boy said. Again howls of laughter.

"But that's not enough demerits." One put in.

"Yeah, it might stop him beating us up, but wont get rid of him.. I bet he beats up the other blocks as well." One put in.

"Who's to say we stop, even if he does. There must be dozens of places we can grab him and make him late, or skip lessons." Jack said.

"Hey can you imagine Fitzwilliam begging us to stop bullying him." One chirped up. More laughter.

"He'll report us." One always has doubts.

"So What." Jack said. "We have Warren, Grant and Burnett on our side. They said they'd cover our backs and I'm sure they will. If Fitzwilliam says it was me, I'll get Warren to say I was doing Prep with him. I'm sure Warren will do it. That'll make Fitzwilliam a liar as well. So you all in?"

A series of nods, and "Hell yes!" calls went round.

Jack turned to Philip.. "I think I'm looking forward to Fitzwilliam coming to smash up our room." Philip grinned back.

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Part 5

Tuesday came around, Fitzwilliam's smashing day, and he arrived at Jack's room bang on time as usual. He stormed in but there was noone there to see the look of anger on his face. 'Little shits think they can outsmart me and hide.' He muttered. He searched the room, under the beds, in the cupboards. Nothing, noone. He was fuming. Livid. As he came out the room.

Jack was watching at the end of the corridor near the entrance to the stairs that led to the boiler room. Actually it was more of a laundry room and kitchenette than a boiler room, so the boys were actually allowed there. Once Jack saw him he called out.. "Look out Philip he's coming." Just as intended Fitzwilliam heard him. 'So that's where they hiding, now they're trapped.' Fitzwilliam gave chase.

Jack ran down the stairs and into the boiler room followed quickly by Fitzwilliam. Uproar happened as the prefect burst into the room. Just how many hands had grabbed him he wasn't sure. Jack could have told him it was twenty, but the prefect never asked. He tried kicking and flailing his arms, but it was no use, there was just too many of them. Within a few seconds he was face down on the floor with ten first formers clawing and grabbing him. "Get the hell off me you idiots you are gonna be so dead." Fitzwilliam shouted.

"Not this time Fitzwilliam your the one that's gonna get it. Shouting wont help you down here." Jack said. Fitzwilliam had no idea if it was one or more that pulled his hands behind him. Others sitting on his legs, One of then even sitting on his head. No matter how hard he struggled and bucked he couldn't shift the mass of humanity on him.

Fitzwilliam didn't know if it was a school tie or a belt or rope that was being wound tightly wound his wrists and arms. Jack could have told him it was the rope line from an old tennis net, but Fitzwilliam didn't ask. Whichever of the three tying it was pulling hardest he had no idea, all he knew was that within a few minutes his whole arms and wrists were wrapped in the stuff and there had to be dozens of knots.

Without letting him move much they seemed to switch around on him some holding his legs, others wrapping more of that stuff around his legs. This time it was from old goal nets, and it was getting damn tight. Ropes and cords fastening his legs so much that very little of his trousers could be seen between the coils and hundreds of knots. Time for a bit of begging Fitzwilliam thought. "OK you lot get off me now and I'll forget all about you lot."

"Not a chance in hell." Jack said who was now starting to take charge. "Why should we let you just go a beat up others." By now Fitzwilliam was completely at the mercy of these first formers, and they weren't about to show any. "Sit him up and get another net rope and wrap up his arms and body. Five of the boys moved back to watch and let four others work more efficiently. At least fifteen coils were added to Fitzwilliam's arms.

"Please... That's enough.. Let me go I promise I wont pick on anyone every again." Fitzwilliam pleaded.

"You really think we'll believe that. We let you go and you'll be beating us all up again next week. Your days of power are numbered. Your going down. Johnny, shut him up. Philip says you have stuff to do it."

"Yeah I have. My dirty sports socks." The boy said, and approached the now frightened 15 year old prefect. Fitzwilliam struggled to prevent the smelly horrors getting near him but to no avail. Within a few minutes a pair of disgusting sports ankle socks were rammed into Fitzwilliam's mouth. Then a bandage from some obscure first aid kit was used to go round and round at least ten time before being tied of. Fitzwilliam would now remain silent even if he didn't want to.

"So Fitzwilliam. How do you like being bullied?" Jack asked. No answer. "Fancy getting bested by us weak little firsties" No answer. "I guess he has nothing to say then. Roll him over then fold his legs and tie them so he cant kick out." There was a series of grunts as two or three of them manhandled Fitzwilliam and secured his legs folded in half.

Now the boys were delighted. They'd pulled off half the mission without a hitch. Smiles and gloating all round.

"OK guys nearly done, get him in the box and pack him tight with those old clothes and reject sport kits." Jack was clearly enjoying being in charge. The hero of the first formers.

Fitzwilliam was soon stuffed in the box and packed so tight he couldn't even move. That's when one boy thought there was a problem.

"How do we get him out of here?" He asked.

"Up the laundry shoot to the back. Peter put a trolley there all ready, with some bins on." Jack said. It took a bit of a struggle, but with ten of them it was achievable. Then quite a simple trip to the school gate pushing the trolley.

It was then that Jack saw there was a problem. A big problem. The head and the Dean stood at the gate watching them approach. It was too late they couldn't run. So they kept going hoping for the best.

"Where are you boys going and what's in the box?" The Dean asked.

A voice came out from by the wall. "Sir." It said. "I spoke with these first formers earlier in prep they suggested that they would like to clear out the junk from the changing room and take it to the dump. They had my permission." It was Warren, Grant and Burnett with him. Just back from a rugby match.

"Oh I see," the Dean said. "That's very good. Well done boys. But what are the bins for?"

We though as we were going to the dump it would be nice to collect the rubbish that gathers on the streets of the village sir." Jack said.

"Wow boys. I'm really impressed with your thoughtfulness. Carry on." Then he looked at one of the boys. "You boy." He shouted. The group stopped again. "Yes sir."

"Now you wouldn't be going through the village with your socks in a disgrace would you?"

"No Sir.. I forgot, sorry sir." He pulled up his socks, as did three others. Clearly these boys hadn't been wearing garters during the boilerroom brawl and their socks had come down. A demerit! 'Improperly dressed in public'. The very crime that Fitzwilliam would be committing.

Warren, the every clever Warren, came over to Jack. "Is that rubbish in the box the rubbish I think it might be?" He asked.

"Yes Warren it is." Jack said quietly, not sure of the outcome.

Warren smiled. "Then carry on and make sure your back before light's out."



The End.


Well not quite....


Did Fitzwilliam get free? Yes they tipped him out the box and left a knife for him.

Did he stop his bullying? Yes he did.

Did the boys carry on tormenting him? Yes they certainly did. From missed classes as he was somewhat tied up with other things. Missed rugby matches claiming his bike was stolen only for the Dean to find in it the bike rack where it should be. All the way to -45 demerits. Then a pleading, begging and crying Fitzwilliam was forgiven after a promise to resign as prefect. His father would disown him if he got demoted.

The next term Fitzwilliam resigned as prefect. One important lesson learnt by one nasty person. Now not so nasty, in fact quite kind and very sorry.

Warren had got his father, a renowned woodworker and cabinetmaker to fix Philips box, which delighted the boy more than almost anything else ever had.


Yup.. Now that's the end


So tell me..... How many of you thought it was Jack that would be the victim?

[wataru14]

Glad you reposted! This was an excellent tale. It felt like I was watching a movie! I love seeing the haughty brought low and the wicked getting what's coming to them. Love the execution of their plan and how the boys all helped and covered for each other. Well done!