A dicked-off class has its revenge

So I stroll into my last class of the day prepared for another Sisyphian-like eternal repetition, and another nail in the coffin of my once mahogany-tinged vocal chords, to be greeted by a classroom decked in Chinese flags and an overly rapturous reception by fifty smug looking kids. I'm confused - national day was weeks ago - is this just a random display of patriotic fervour? I turn to the board to see a grossly huge and well-crafted map in green chalk labelled in capitals: C H I N A. Six inches from it lies a tiny, crudely etched turd shape, so small that the diminutive label attached to it can't fit within its borders. 'england'.

As their mocking laughter rings in my ears, the penny drops; it's that class whose patriotism I offended so severely with my mocking depiction of a tiny China.

I'm touched by their retort. But this is not the end.