My bus goes like this: Middle rows get picked on, and the kids that sit in the back (At least lat year, now it's me sitting in the back) would forget with the bus driver. One day, they brought a moth into the bus, let it loose, and screamed. The 400 pound bus driver came back there, it landed on his shirt, and one of the kids slapped it and streaked it down his shirt.
Some kids like to make national socialist bombers. They would decorate a paper airplane with swastikas and fill the center with nasty stuff.
Then, they would throw it at the center of the bus.
One time, the bus driver started speaking, and one of the kids screeched, "Shut up you fatass!" He then put the microphone down and did not speak.
I have plenty more bus tales, my bus used to be one of the worst busses in the county. Well, imo.
This bus is NOTHING compared to that bus, though.
About mid-way through its route our bus passed along an explosives factory which produced dynamite for removing tree stumps and other small demolition projects. When this factory caught fire, they had to evacuate an area a few square miles around our route because the resulting explosion was supposed to be on par with a poor man's nuclear bomb -- one or two kilotons. When normal people are informed that there's a very real possibility that everything they've ever known and loved with be burned alive, their typical reaction is fear or sorrow. When they announced it to the kids on our bus, however, everyone began cheering and throwing their backpacks into the air. It seemed appropriate that these soulless little stuffheads would erupt in celebration upon learning that our little Idahoan middle-earth was going to be engulfed in an all consuming fireball.
I lol'd at that.
