The teacher was about to explain how to carry out multiple digit divisions when someone knocked at the door of the classroom. The door cracked open and the silhouette of the director appeared in the chink. “Mrs. Bell?” he called from the corridor. “May I see you for a short while? Urgent matter. It won’t take long.”

“Certainly,” Mrs. Bell replied. “Please excuse me just for a second.” Turning back to the class, “While I’m away why don’t you play… hangman?” she proposed.

“YEEEES!” all the class shouted.

The teacher smiled, and drew out the roll-call list from a drawer. She stood up, shut her eyes and let a pen fall on the paper. “Today,” she announced, “the guesser will be Dave!”

Dave’s face crumpled. He stood up. “No, please, please, someone else. I don’t want—”

“Tsk tsk!” Mrs. Bell interrupted. “You know the rules of the game. Be brave, kid. You’re smart, I’m sure you’ll beat it. Now, who wants to be the leader?”

A dozen hands rose up. “Betty!” the teacher called. “You’re on.”

Blond, blue-eyed Betty was by far the class’s most despicable girl. She simpered, stood up and strutted to the teacher’s desk.

“Have fun!” Mrs. Bell said. She walked out, closing the door behind her.

Betty picked up a chalk and drew ten dashes on the blackboard. She then looked at the wall clock above it. “You have five minutes,” she said. “First guess?”

“E!” Dave said lamely.

Betty drew the first line of the hangman.

[hr]

The five minutes were almost over. The hangman was nearly complete, but for its two legs.

“I!” Dave proposed.

Betty drew an “I” over the third from last dash. CO_ULA_ION was now written on the blackboard. 

Dave suddenly blushed. He muttered something no one heard.

“What?” Betty said. “I can’t hear you. Louder, will you?”

“I… I…” Dave’s face was scarlet now.

“You already picked ‘I’,” Betty said, grinning. “Try something else.”

“IT’S OVER!!!” Brice shouted from his desk, pointing at the wall clock. “HE HAS LOST!” 

“Too bad for you, Dave!” Betty said cooly. “The word was ‘copulation’, you moron. Hang him!”

Suddenly they were all on him. He fought back, randomly punched and kicked everyone around him, but he was quickly overcome by pelting blows. He collapsed on the floor, a blubbering being of pain. They took him ruthlessly by the armpits and lugged him out of the classroom into the playground, where the gallows sat. The noose had already been prepared, together with the stool beneath it. Dave didn’t even protest when they hauled him on to it, and carefully adjusted the noose around his neck.

Betty took a step forward out of the crowd. “Any last word you want to say? A final message to your parents?” she asked.

Dave was kneeling on the stool, his head lowered, his hair matted with blood streaming from his wounds. “I… I… don’t want to die… Please! Let me live,” he bleated between his sobs.

“Poor dearie!” Betty scoffed. “The world has no need for chickenshits like you. Goodbye Dave!” 

She made a gesture, and James kicked the stool away. There was a sharp snap as the noose tightened around the neck. A few seconds later, Dave had turned into a limp puppet swinging helplessly at the end of the rope.

For a while they stood here, fascinated, their eyes fixed on the corpse. Then they turned away, one after another, and shuffled silently back to the classroom. They sat at their desks, waiting for the teacher to come back.

Mrs. Bell appeared a couple of minutes later.  “So… How did it turn out?” she asked. “Did he— oh oh!” she said, when she saw the empty chair where Dave used to seat.

“He lost,” Betty confirmed.

“F—” Mrs. Bell put her hand over her mouth. “Darn,” she corrected. “How am I going to break that to his parents.”

There was an embarrassing hush.

“Did he at least come close?” she asked.

“Frankly,” Betty answered, “he never stood a chance.”