Clemence's first day at school

It was Clemence's first day at school. He had carefully assembled his catapult and placed it in his satchel. Mother bade him a curt goodbye.
" Always remember to take the eyes out of your victims boy." The walk through Jenkins' orchard was unremarkable. He whistled, or more accurately, tried to whistle through the drilled hole in his front teeth. Father often engaged Clemence in crude parlour games involving screwdrivers and mallets.
"
Them be russets, they be."
Clemence often dreamed of apples.
It was at that exact moment that Clemence's jaw sagged as he saw Jenkins turn the corner of his drive. His silver Bentley slid silently and stopped .
Jenkins wound down his window,

"
Get orf my land rapscallion."
Clemence despised Jenkins. He despised his silver hair, his starched-yellow moustache and most of all his drooping,priggish jowls.
He carefully unfolded the catapult from his satchel. Picking up a large piece of limestone from beneath his feet he quickly loaded the weapon. He stretched the catapult. The sound of seething rubber burned his ears.
A single stone flew towards Jenkins and hit the old man squarely in his right eye.
Mother always had a way with words.



TAKE THE CATAPULT TO WORDS
WITH THE DATAIST DRUM


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