Back in our school, the shop teacher was a real piece of work, a wild card with a devil-may-care vibe. Before class, he’d toss back some nasvay, getting all wired up—darting around the workshop, fiddling with tools, acting like someone flipped a goddamn switch in his head. Hell, he even tried to push that nasty stuff on us a couple of times, grinning like a maniac, saying it’d “wake us up.”

In his grimy little kingdom, there was this glass-door cabinet, proudly displaying his stash of cha-cha—homemade moonshine, no doubt. A whole damn collection, and he didn’t give two shits who saw it.

So, one day, some ballsy idiot—yep, you guessed it, that was me—thought it’d be a brilliant idea to “borrow” a couple of those bottles. Snatched ‘em smooth as silk, or so I thought. But that crafty bastard sniffed out the thief eventually, and let’s just say he hunted me down. The aftermath? A solid ass-whooping, some ear-splitting yelling, and a whole lot of drama.
#wildteacher #schoolmemories #moonshinemadness #caughtredhanded