The Smell Of Rebellion

This school, of late, has started reeking
[to amanda] quiet, maggots, when i'm speaking!

Reeking, with a most disturbing scent
Only the finest nostrils smell it
But i know it oh-too-well
It is the odour of rebellion
It's the bouquet of dissent!

And you may bet your britches this headmistress
Finds this foul odiferousness
Wholly olfactorally insulting
And so, to stop this stench's spread
I find a session of phys-ed
Sorts the merely "rank" from the "revoting"
[she takes off her jumper to reveal a top with the olympic logo emblazoned on it. She starts exercising and the children follow suit. ]

The smell of rebellion comes out in the sweat
And phys-ed will get you sweating
And it won't be long before i smell the pong
Of aiding and abetting
A bit of phys-ed will tell us
Who has a head full of rebellious thoughts
[she stands on one leg and the children follow.]
Hold, hold!

Most of the children fall to the ground, but miss trunchbull sees that matilda is still standing.

Just like a rotten egg floats to the top
Of a bucket of water.

Realising what she has done, matilda slowly lowers herself onto her mat.

Miss trunchbull
The smell of rebellion
The stench of revolt
One, two, three, four
The reek of insubordination
I can't take it anymore
One, two, three, four.

The whiff of resistance
The pong of dissent
The funk of mutiny in action
That's not right.

Before the weed becomes too big and greedy
You really need to nip it in the bud
Position two!
[she takes an inhaler from hortensia and throws it into the wings.]
Before the worm starts to turn
You must scrape off the dirt
And rip it from the mud!

The whiff of insurgence
One, two three, four
The stench of intent
One, two, three, four
The reek of pre-pubescent protest
The pong of defiance
One, two, three, four
The odour of coup
One, two, three, four
The waft of anarchy in progress
Please, miss, please!

Once we've "exercised" these demons
They shall be too pooped for scheming.

Miss trunchbull drags off a mat to which eric still clings. The older kids bring in a tall ladder, a trampoline, a gymnastic platform, and a mattress.

Some double-time discipline
Should stop the rot from setting in!
[she climbs onto the ladder.]
All right, let's step it up. Double time.

As miss trunchbull sings, each of the children jump onto the trampoline, land on the platform, and fall onto the mattress. Some miss their landing. Some are pushed, sometimes unintentionally, by their classmates.

One, two, three, four
Discipline. Discipline
For children who aren't listening
For midgets who are fidgeting
Or whispering in history
Their chattering and chittering
Their nattering and twittering
Is tempered with a smattering
Of discipline.

We must begin insisting
On rigidity, and discipline
Persistently resisting
This anarchistic mischieving
These minutes you are frittering
On pandering and pitying
While little 'uns like this
They just want discipline.

The simpering and whimpering
The dribbling and the spittling
The "miss, i need a tissue"
It's an issue we can fix
There is no mystery to mastering
The art of classroom discipline
It's discipline, discipline
Discipline!

The smell of rebellion
The stench of revolt
The reek of pre-pubescent plotting
The whiff of resistance
The pong of dissent
The funk of moral fibre rotting.

Imagine a world with no children
Close your eyes and just dream
Imagine – come on, try it
The peace and the quiet
A burbling stream.
[she stands and jumps into a sitting position on the wooden platform.]

Now imagine a woods with a cottage
And inside that cottage we find
A dwarf called zeek
A carnival freak
Who can fold paper hats with his mind
And he says
"don't let them steal your horses
No!
Don't let them throw them away
No, no, no!
If you find your way through
They'll be waiting for you, singing
"neigh! Neigh!"
[she whickers like a horse.]
She's mad!

Aha!
And there, just like i said
The stinking maggot rears his head!
Even the squitiest, pitiest mess
Can harbour seeds of stinkiness
Have you ever seen anything more repellent?
Have you ever smelled anything worse than
That smell of rebellion?

The stench of revolt
The reek of insubordination
The whiff of resistance
The pong of dissent.

And i will not stop till you are squashed
Till this rebellion is quashed
Till glorious, sweaty discipline has washed
This sickening stench away!