Biff Chip and Kipper and the Easter Holidays

It is Day 4762 (feels like) of the Easter holidays.

This is Biff.

This is Chip.

Biff and Chip are bored.

Biff and Chip have been bored since approximately fifty six seconds after school ended and the Easter holidays began.

Biff and Chip have not missed a single opportunity to tell Mum just how bored they are.

This is Mum.

Mum is not merely bored.

Mum is homicidal.

Thus far, it has cost Mum half her monthly mortgage payment and fourteen fifteenths of her sanity to entertain Biff and Chip during the Easter holidays.

They are not yet halfway through.

Mum has spent the remaining half of her monthly mortgage payment on gin.

“We are bored,” say Biff and Chip, for the eight millionth time since 7am that morning.


“Bring me that magic key of yours,” says Mum.

Biff and Chip are excited.

Biff and Chip think Mum is going to use the magic key to entertain them.

“In your fucking dreams,” says Mum, as she uses the magic key to escape to a tropical island, deserted but for a topless Tom Hardy and a litre bottle of baby oil.

This is Floppy the dog.

Floppy is left in charge of Biff and Chip.

“Floppy is just like Lassie!” cry Biff and Chip. “He will protect us!”

Floppy eats all of the sausages which were left out for tea, pees in Biff’s wardrobe and dry humps Henry the Hoover.

“Floppy, you fucking liability,” says Biff.

This is Mrs May.

Mrs May is currently enjoying “all those lovely long holidays you teachers get”.

To date, Mrs May has had four minutes and twenty six seconds of her “lovely long holiday” which was not spent on essential sleep, marking or lesson planning in preparation for the summer term and getting all of her class through their SATS.

Mrs May used the four minutes and twenty six seconds she had to call her own to Google what a fronted adverbial was.

Mrs May is still none the wiser.

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