Eight boys stood behind, and to both sides of Andrew. He knew that trying to run away would be futile.
Josh, the cock of the school, rolled his sleeves up and fixed Andrew with a menacing glare.
Andrew knew three things were certain: It would be quick. It would be harsh. The pain would be excruciating.
Behind Josh, around one hundred and fifty primary school pupils stood in silent anticipation.
Andrew was ten-years-old but he would have to take his punishment like a man, and anyway, as far as he was aware nobody had ever died from a Chinese burn.