The Department for Education said its policy of five roly-poly children per school maximum had been scrapped due to hundreds of elephantine infants inundating the system, a supply that at first delighted bullies but then decimated their ranks with a debilitating lardaphobia.

A spokesman said: “Your average playground arsehole doesn’t know what’s hit him. The fat is everywhere, closing in like some kind of Doritos-fuelled divine retribution.”

 

Eight year-old Wayne Palmer, once a proud sack of pure nasty but now an empty, twitching shell, said: “I used to own playtime, but since the fat came I just gibber under my coat in the cloakroom and pray they’re too busy carnivoring their way through a dinner lady to notice I exist.”

 

“I rang Esther Ranzthen and she just said: ‘What goes around comes around, babes’ and hung up.”

 

During the bullying bonanza that was the 1970s, ex-Hymers twat Christian Blake flushed many a rotund head down many a toilet.

 

He said: “Often it was at the behest of the Games teacher, renowned for his intolerance toward any boy ample enough to fill out a bra. He’d be quite happy to guard the toilet door too, usually in his tight Umbro tracksuit which would steadily tent at the crotch as he barked the directive: ‘Drown the piggy, hear it squeal.’”

 

“I’ve handed the ritual of the lavatory - or to use the technical term: ‘bobbing for crapples’ - down to my eldest, but he’s forever coming home crying because nowadays the younger kids’ faces are too bloated and moon-like to fit in the pan.”

 

The Institute for the Persecution of Minorities has pledged to help distressed bullies realign their wrath to a less mainstream brand of punchbag.

 

A spokesman said: “Let’s see. If ‘blubber tits’ is out then that leaves ‘speccy four-eyes’, ‘built-up shoe limpy gimmer’, and ‘paedo dad’”.

“And of course any child bearing the slightest resemblance to Piers Morgan.”