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It's not the pants, it's the principle.

Id take Jessica Alba's any day.....

Well, I'm not best pleased I must say.

In any fair competition I would have won, fairly and squarely, a pair of pants.

However, in this farce of a thing it sounds as though the actual prize I shall receive is, if anything, a pant.

This is an absolute and utter disgrace.

Depends on whether or not the flea is of Olympic standard.

Like humans, an Olympic-calibre flea is physically superior than a normal flea and, as such, is generally better at these 'how high can you jump?' competitions.

The fleas have the right idea- it's a how high can you jump cmpetition.

Us humans are a bit more grandiose and vain. We disguise it as 'the high jump' and award metallic gongs to people who have calibrated their bodies to......erm, jump.

High.

How do you know she's head of a College?

This is bollocks!

You answered correctly....................to the wrong fucking question! I answered correctly and get the backend of some.................worn underwear from some shady bastard calling himself 'SpankyMonkey'.

He's probably worn the said underwear himself over the past 2 weeks, and lived off a diet of vindaloos, kormas & madras.

This is the last competition I'm entering around here. Bollocks to the lot of you, and Spanky can shove that freak of a flea down his urethral tract!

....and Steve, good luck with the pants.

May I remind you that I got the answer exactly right as it stood upon the commencement of the competition.

The pants are, therefore, rightfully mine.