It was the night before the primary school allocations came out.
Mum was a nervous wreck.
“I am a nervous wreck,” said Mum.
“Please,” said Chip. “Don’t try and suddenly feign an interest in our education. I was out of the house from 8am on Monday until 7pm on the Friday three weeks later, and all you had to say was ‘Did you have a nice day at school, dear?’ Where the fuck do you think we go to school? Mars?”
“Mrs May says there will be prizes for good attendance,” said Biff. “We should try and win a prize.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Dad. “Missing school never does anyone any harm. My attendance record was in single figures, and just look at me.”
Everyone looked at Dad. Dad had one foot stuck in the toilet bowl. In his hand he had a hairdryer. The hairdryer was plugged in. Dad was using the hairdryer to try and scoop the water out of the toilet bowl.
“Don’t worry Mum,” said Kipper. “I’m sure I will get into a good school. I’m sure giving the form to Dad to complete was a brilliant idea. Dad would definitely not have made a mistake.”
Mum cried some more.
Gran came round. Gran smelt of whisky and playing cards.
Gran glared at Dad. “You’d better not have messed up this time, my lad,” said Gran. “My Kipper had better be going to a good school. Or you KNOW what will be happening to you.” Gran was holding some scissors. Dad looked at his groin. Dad was scared.
“Mrs May’s school is a good school,” said Chip. Everyone looked at Chip. “It IS,” said Chip.
“Yes, if you like putting on shit plays, being perved on by the creepy caretaker who wouldn’t know what a DBS check was if one smacked him in the face, and failing Ofsted inspections on the grounds of serious breaches of health and safety regulations,” said Biff.
“Oh god,” said Mum. “My little boy.”
No one went to sleep that night. Mum made everyone sit up around the computer. Gran was swigging whisky from a milk bottle. Mum was crying. Dad was asleep with his foot still stuck down the toilet bowl.
Biff, Chip and Kipper snuck out of the room to make a plan. “We need to make a plan,” said Biff.
“I know!” said Kipper. Kipper told Biff and Chip his plan. It was a good plan.
The next day was a sunny day. Everyone was still sitting in the living room. Mum was not there.
“Where’s Mum?” said Gran.
“Never you mind,” said Kipper. “Where am I going to school?”
Biff and Chip logged onto Mum’s email account. There was an email from the county council. The email said that Kipper had received his first choice of school.
“Hooray!” said everyone.
“What is the name of your new school?” asked Gran.
Biff had a look at the email. “It says: Mrs May’s Academy for The Performing Arts.”
“Oh fucking hell,” said Kipper.
“Dad!” said Biff. “What did you do?”
“Forms are very confusing,” said Dad.
“For you, so is walking upright,” said Chip.
Gran got out her scissors. “STOP! HEEL!” said Dad to Gran. Floppy thought Dad was talking to him. Floppy leapt onto Dad. Dad dropped the plugged in hairdryer down the toilet bowl. Dad went a funny colour. Smoke came out of Dad’s ears.
“Fucking OWWWWWWWWWWWWWW,” said Dad.
“Floppy, you fucking liability,” said Biff.
Meanwhile, Mum was having a lovely time. The magic key had taken her to a parallel universe. In the parallel universe Mum was married to Tom Hardy. Tom Hardy was an expert at DIY and filling in forms. Mum and Tom Hardy’s child had got into their first choice of school and was now going to be fast-tracked to Oxbridge by the age of nine. Mum was clinging onto the magic key for dear life. “I’m never coming back home, you bastards,” howled Mum.