‘Hi. My name’s Guz Khan. Hilarious.
Handsome. Hairier now. ‘I am a comedian, but also
a secondary-school teacher.’ Tyreese!
‘And here are my ‘worst things about
being a teacher.’ Put that away, please, Neil. Now, listen. I understand that
when you present information to young and impressionable minds, you have a responsibility to do so
in a balanced way. But sometimes these kids just need
the real, raw truth. But sir… Yes, Tyreese. Is it “Donald Trump’s a bad guy,”
yeah? T, Donald Trump is not just
a bad guy, OK? He’s an orange-faced pervert that looks like Basil Brush
has died on his head. And let me tell you this, son. He would not hesitate to grab your
mum’s poon-poon in a heartbeat. But sir, didn’t Donald Trump
ban all Muslims cos they was doing bare terrorisms
in America and that? Tyreese, man. An American is more likely to die from
a lawnmower-related injury than from international terrorism.
All right? Write this in your essay. Yeah.
Listening? BLEEP Donald Trump. Let me be honest with you. Kids try shit. Bad shit. WHISPERS: Drugs and shit, all right? And I’m not saying
it’s a good thing. All I’m saying is, out of
all the things that they could try, a little green plant
that grows out the ground that makes you very relaxed
and kind of hungry ain’t the worst thing
they could try, is it? What is that in your…? Give me that! We’ll speak about this later. Confiscate that for now. Get on with your work. Why do we have to plan lessons
in such meticulous detail to the point that I have to tell you
how I’m going to help Lee with his macular degeneration? I’m not a doctor! Go get one of
them, that’s some complicated shit. I’m trying to stop Neil shanking
somebody with a compass again. Put that away, please, Neil! And Tyreese, get your hand out
your trousers. Ain’t no time play with your penis
in class. Yo, Tyreese. Your mum is peng on Instagram,
you know. Mmm! Dumb kids. WHISPERS: Dumb kids, yeah. Listen, you’re a burden
on all of us, so why don’t you just get to
working in a meth lab and hope for the best, son? By the time we’ve dealt with
hormonal mood swings, governmental pressure
from pricks in high places, lesson planning, observations,
marking, teachers spend the first four weeks
of the summer holidays in a psych ward, son.
So do me a favour. Next time you think teachers
have too many holidays, come and thank us for spending
more time with your little pricks than you will ever have to. What the…? Tyreese, I’m going to BLEEP
your mum. BELL RINGS