We Built A Rocket, Boys...

and I/we won...(please see yesterdays effort).

The Child won first prize for her/our/my rocket/starfighter.

She won a lollipop. One fucking lollipop. Where was MY lollipop?
Did the retarded fucking teacher think that an eleven year old, no matter how gifted she undoubtedly is, could, at SHORT NOTICE, fashion an actual sub-orbit unit like I/we did, with a sexy paint-job and stealthed weapon pods, a phallic hyper-space profile and a subtle nod to the design skills of the demi-god Lucas in the space (always the final frontier, space) in the space of a couple of hours, ON HER FUCKING OWN?

So I bought my own lollipops, stuck them in a mouldy apple, then stuck a great big sparkler in, just for good measure, soaked the whole lot in Zippo lighter fluid, and lit the hoor up like all the fucking Jaysus Christmasses you have ever seen.
This shot was taken just before the curtains and pelmets took to flame.

But I got my lollipop.

Yay me/us!