Horseing Around
In Sixth Form, one of the school Golden Boys (Prefect, Rugby Team, all that) had painted a very detailed picture of a horse in a field for art class. It had teachers and pupils alike cooing, but I strongly suspected he had copied it off a biscuit tin.

When briefly left alone in the art room with his work my natural response was the same as most schoolboys'. Draw a cock it. Biro outline, human in form but placed in an anatomically correct position. As you can probably tell, I was (and still am) a bit of a Vincent Van Cock and well known for leaving a trail of cockandballs behind me.

The second I had finished the last pube, I realised what I had done and knew it would be instantly obvious who was the culprit, and being in pen it couldn't be erased. There was only one course of action to get away with it...

I signed it.

That's right. I actually signed it. In bold letters. Right beside the offending todge I wrote "by Gary" (for that is my name).

Later on, when the guy turned up for the actual art class he greeted his work with the predicted, horrified reaction. Everyone gathered around him to see what was wrong, laughed and then they all turned to me to see how I was reacting to this near certain confrontation.

Then Golden Boy turned to the assembled group and said "Which one of you twats did this?" They all looked confused, gesturing to me, the obvious vandal. I looked at them as though I had no idea why they were pointing at me.

"No, it's not HIM" our horse-lover continued "Which one of you lot was trying to get him in trouble? He'd never sign his own name"

So I got away with the ultimate speedcock and even managed to leave an autograph.
(kingnutter, Fri 9 Sep 2011, 15:55, Reply)