End of Term Class Dismissed

This is Dockbridge High, a school just like yours.

A school like any other.

-A place where...

-Oh.

-Do you mind? I'm trying to record a voice-over.

-Sorry.

Now, where was I?

Our cameras filmed for a year to find out what life is really like

for the students and their teachers, at this most ordinary of schools.

Welcome to Class Dismissed.

BELL RINGS

It's the final day of term,

which brings great sadness to the pupils and staff

at Dockbridge High.

End of term!

Woohoo! End of term!

Beep! Beep! Brrrrroom!

End of term!

I can't wait for the holidays.

No more getting told off in class, no more homework,

no more hanging out with my friends every day...

No more winding up Miss Flip.

Hang on.

BELL RINGS

In the art block, Miss Flip is tidying her classroom,

ready for next term.

Well done, everyone.

Just place the work neatly on the table and tidy away the paints.

Martin!

You're only supposed to be taking down the display, not the wall.

You might want to pause there.

Sorry, Miss.

Right, everyone. Stop.

Perfect. Just perfect, yes. It's done.

Lovely.

But, have we finished, Miss?

What? Finished? Yes, of course we have.

Haven't we?

Oh, now you mention it, it does look a bit bare, doesn't it?

I think this room could do with just one more thing.

ALL: No, Miss!

Stand back, everyone. Artist at work!

SHE YELLS

Very creative!

LAUGHTER

That's it, everyone! Very creative!

See you next term. Class dismissed.

APPLAUSE

All over the school, loose ends are being tied up.

Done.

And old arguments are being settled.

-You're not my mother.

-Yes, I am.

I really am.

In music and dance,

Mr Christopher has some earth-shattering news of his own.

Settle down, because I have some mahoosive news.

So listen up.

I... dramatic pause...

..am leaving.

Gasp! I know.

If you're going to faint, do it now.

Thank you, Martin. Now, I know what you're thinking.

"But, sir, we'll never have another teacher with perfect pitch

"and self-taught tambourine skills."

And no, you won't.

But I've been given the opportunity of a lifetime.

What's that, then, sir?

I am auditioning for The X Factor. Yeah. I know.

And what with the live shows, the winning, the record deal,

and the promotion of the album, I'll just have no time to teach you.

-WHISPERING:

-Relief.

So, I'm going to be leaving you forever.

Don't cry. So, break off into little groups.

Console yourselves and write a song about your favourite memories of me.

But, sir, it's just an audition. You might not even get through.

GROWLING

It's all right, Martin. I can't hear her over my talent.

# Cos I'm going to win The X Factor

# Yeah, yeah, come on, people, join in if you want to

# Join in the dancing with Mr Christopher

# Mr Christopher's dancing Oh, yeah, yeah... #

# Remember my name. #

-WHISPERS:

-Mr Christopher.

# I'm going to teach forever. #

Well, hopefully not.

Breaktime, and the end-of-term excitement has taken hold

of even the most unlikely of staff.

THEY CHANT

You should just ask her out, sir.

Eh?

-Ask her out. Over the summer.

-Ask her...

I wouldn't know where to take a lady.

My mum likes dancing.

Take her dancing.

Dancing...

BELL RINGS

Mr Capp is determined to make his last lesson of term "well fun".

OK, guys. Call me cray cray...

but as this is our final lesson,

I thought we could kick back with some creative writing. Rap!

So, grab your pens and paper. Or write on your desks!

Actually, don't write on the desks. I'll get into trouble.

You can use modern words, guys!

That is MEGA,

as far as I'm concerned.

Oh, Jazzy Jess!

You've finished already!

No, that isn't...

"Mr Capp is such an idiot."

"Totes can't wait till this day is done,

"and we don't have to see him for six weeks."

-Jasmine.

-Sorry, sir. I didn't mean...

That is a well dench piece of creative writing.

-Even if I did get boyed. Do you get me?

-No.

Besides, we all know it's bants, because I will be seeing you

down at the skate park every day this summer.

Ohhh!

Psych!

Banter.

In the music room, Mr Christopher is having one last practice,

before leaving for his X Factor audition.

# And I'm singing low, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, really low

# Yeah, really low. #

It's not my strongest.

# Oh, yeah, I like singing high, yeah. #

Can I have this footage for my internet channel?

At least maths teacher Mr Konnundrum can be relied upon

to deliver a proper lesson even on the last day of term.

So, if a man has been working very hard at school or work,

but probably school, and decides to take a holiday,

his flight to Ibiza leaves at 5:30pm...

..it takes 45 minutes to get to the airport...

..and he must check in at least two hours before the flight...

..what time does the man have to leave his place of work

to get there?

-Yes, Tahj.

-2:45pm, sir.

Wrong. Because he's got access to the first class lounge,

and he's going right now. Woohoo!

Quiet reading. Holidays, here I come!

Have a nice holiday, sir!

Lunchtime, and Mrs Tucker is causing a stir in the canteen.

Get your bargains 'ere! Rock bottom prices.

Pound a pound, one day only. Everything must go!

-What's going on, Miss?

-Hello, boys. It's me closing down sale.

Got to shift this stock ahead of summer break.

-Can I have two of those, please, Miss?

-Sylv!

-Two joints of gammon for the lady.

-OK, Ange.

-What can I do you for?

-What have you got?

-What ain't I got?

Leg of lamb. 20 sack of spuds. Contents of a chest freezer.

-I'll take it. There might be some pies in there.

-Done.

You only just missed out on

the 50 cans of tinned peaches I just shifted.

But Miss, they don't go off. You can just keep them till next term.

Back in five.

Sorry, girls. Deal's off.

In food technology, Miss Davis has pulled out her trump card,

and is cooking her famous souffle for the final day.

The word souffle comes from the French verb, souffle,

which literally means "to blow up."

PFFFT

Now, I'm going to check how they're getting along.

Be careful, if you open your oven door, for the puff of hot air.

It's very unpleasant if it gets you in the face.

PFFFT

Oh, my goodness. Who did that?

Who just fired a stink torpedo?

Billy, did you just do that trouser cough?

Uh...

Yeah, Miss.

How rude to do a cheek flapper in my class!

I don't come to your house

and leave an air biscuit in your kitchen.

What? But you always...

I don't bottom blast while you're doing your homework.

Yeah, but you bottom blast when I...

I don't leave guff nuggets in your lunchbox.

No, but you always...

And you let out a backdoor breeze, a one-cheek sneak!

A stink bomb, a honker, a whoompus, an invert burp, a one-gun salute!

-As if it happens every day!

-But it does happen...

every day.

-Yeah, fine. Excuse me.

-Thank you for apologising.

Now, where were we? Oh, yes.

Open your oven doors, and prepare for the backdraught.

PFFFT

The last lesson of the day is drama,

and Sir Stanley is taking his curtain call.

The day hath arriven, the hour is nigh,

Lady Time hath ridden her clockwork horsie

to the barren wasteland we call school.

I think he means it's the end of term.

Precisely.

I've been working with you all year,

and I can now reveal Emily will be joining me

at the Edinburgh Festival this summer,

for the performance of my one-man show, The Drama Teacher.

APPLAUSE

But, sir, if it's a one-man show, how can Emily be in it?

HE LAUGHS

She isn't in it, my dear boy.

She'll be giving out the flyers, shouting,

"Come and see this play what with Sir Stanley in! Two stars."

-But, sir, I'm going on holiday.

-Not any more.

I've spoken with your mother and she agrees.

Now, for the rest of you, I prepared some vocal warm-ups

that you can do twice a day all summer.

After me...

MA, MAW, ME, MAY, MOO, MA, SHA!

ALL: MA, MAW, ME, MAY, MOO, MA, SHA!

Now, that's acting.

The Drama Teacher.

Starring Sir Stanley Bleacher.

Written by Sir Stanley Bleacher. Directed by Sir Stanley Bleacher.

Would you like to come?

The end-of-term assembly is almost over

and soon the pupils will be able to head home.

If Mr Barker ever finishes his speech.

APPLAUSE

Thank you, Mr Barker, for that fantastic send-off speech.

The poem you wrote was particularly moving.

I loved it.

So, it just leaves me as your deputy head...

And me as your deputy head.

..to wish you a pleasant summer holidays,

and remind you that dyed pink hair will not be tolerated

when you come back to school,

or you will be spending the first day of the next term

in detention with me.

And me.

-But mainly me.

-And me.

-Arm wrestle you for it.

-You're on.

-Class dismissed.

-Wait!

There's one more thing!

I'm pleased to announce that I'm not leaving.

I couldn't just leave you without a teacher.

And besides, those judges wouldn't know talent

if it hit them in the face.

Which it did. Which may have been the problem.

So, class dismissed.

Wait!

There's one more thing!

Miss Spray, I love you.

This dance is for you.

TANGO MUSIC

No-one likes a show-off.

TANGO MUSIC CONTINUES

HE SNEEZES

THEY GROAN

-BOTH:

-Class dismissed.

CHEERING

And so, another ordinary day of an ordinary term,

of an ordinary year, finishes at Dockbridge High.

Yeah! Yeah.

Hey, dudes, you've got my deets,

so give me a call when you're down at the skate park this summer, yeah.

I've got full reception so I'll always answer.

Holler.

Come and see this play what with Sir Stanley in. Two stars.

Sounds marvellous.

One sec.

See, I told you.

Nothing interesting ever happens around here. See you next year.

MUSIC: School's Out by Alice Cooper

# School's out for summer

# School's out forever

# School's out with fever

# School's out completely. #