(Print) Use this randomly generated list as your call list when playing the game. There is no need to say the BINGO column name. Place some kind of mark (like an X, a checkmark, a dot, tally mark, etc) on each cell as you announce it, to keep track. You can also cut out each item, place them in a bag and pull words from the bag.
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Each step seemed to take forever. "My!" Mrs Bandaraina said, watching his snail-slow progress. "Aren't you the careful one, taking such care not to spill coloured ink on your sweet little frock!"
It was a dispirited Bill Simpson who trailed down the school drive, dragging his feet.
Bill stopped and doubled over, grimacing and clutching his stomach as though he was in the grip of a fierce spasm of pain.
He pranced along in his curious, loping fashion, and threw himself merrily over the finishing line.
A shudder pf pure fury rose through his body and made his hands shake.
Bill held his breath as Mrs Collins looked at him and said, "The lovely Rapunzel."
She just thrust the stack of yellow medical forms into his arms, and hurried off.
Bill Simpson blushed so pink that all his freckles disappeared.
He spread his hands in desperation. "Please give the ball back," he pleaded.
He muttered savagely under his breath.
The clock hands seemed to crawl. Each time he looked up, they had scarcely moved. The afternoon seemed endless - endless.
A smile of triumph spread across his face.
"I am not pink," Bill insisted. But he was getting pinker by the minute.
He shut his eyes, the better to appreciate the sound of hands clapping and the cheers.
Bill ignored everyone. He just sat there , waiting for time to go by. Even a bad dream couldn't last forever. His torment had to end some time, surely.
Bill felt so cross he had to sit in his hands to stop himself from thumping Philip.
He'd let them down horribly. It was almost as if he'd cheated to win the race. And since all three had dropped out one after another, expecting that he would as well, he had in a way won it unfairly. If everyone had run properly, Kristy would almo
There was no fight left in Bill Simpson. Meekly, he allowed himself to be led to the middle of the room. Bill could have tried to say something then, but he didn't bother. He reckoned there was no point. He knew that, whatever he said and whatever
"Whistling at me?" Mean Malcom looked astonished to find this pink apparition glaring at him with such menace. He shifted uneasily on the lid of his dustbin.
Through his heart was thumping so fiercely his eyes couldn't settle on the pictures, let alone read the print, Bill Simpson pretended he had calmly gone back to his Dandy.
"It's just -" Now, tipping her head to one side, she looked him very closely in the eye. "It's just - " Kristy shook her head, sighing.
Everyone knew the signs: the eyebrows knitting together over her nose; the lines across her foreheard deepening to furrows; her lips thinning into tightened purse strings.
It was with a slight shudder of disgust that Mrs Collins dipped her hands in the box to lift them out, and started around the room.
