Now a lot of us didn't like French class. French class occurred right after lunch. So during lunch we would collect enough money to purchase a dozen chocolate doughnuts for Ken. Ken would gulp them down in rapid succession. At the start of French class, a ghastly, curdling, vomiting noise, emanated from Ken's mouth. Then it happened. From the mouth of Ken spewed forth a great brown cascade of slimy, chocolatey goo, slithering and flowing down the aisle towards the front of the classroom and the shoes of the teacher. "Je me sans malade!", screamed the French teacher. What she said, translated into English, is apparently, 'I feel sick!'
Some screamed and some laughed. Yes me, and those in the know, laughed with hysterics. The janitor was summoned and he proceeded to throw great lumps of sand on the offending heaving mass of puked-out chocolate doughnuts. Due to the overwhelming, nostril hair burning stench, the classroom was evacuated. Ooh la la! and magnifique! We all headed back to the cafeteria and celebrated with some chocolate doughnuts.
One time in French class, I was given the great privilege of being "designated puker." I stuffed myself with chocolate doughnuts, willingly donated by my fellow, well-meaning classmates. Sadly, although I gave a noble effort, my end result in chucking up, was nowhere near as profound and inspirational as Ken's mighty effort. Ken is one of my true heroes. I believe the guy should have received an award for actions, above and beyond the call of duty.