Inspired by my maths lessons where I sit and try not to fall asleep as my teacher prattles on about nothing. Sometimes he uses models for questions, which is where the second bit came from. This answers a question I've always wanted to know. Also inspired by a maths revision video I was sent as a joke which is aimed at primary school kids learning shapes. The lines Gazza blurts come in part, from there.

Maths

The more GordonattheJones'dotcom listened to the droning, almost mechanical voice of the teacher reciting algebra equations, the less he actually listened. He felt his head get heavier and as he lowered it to the desk; the teacher's voice faded to nothing, and there he stayed for at least five blissful minutes.

"GordonattheJones'dotcom! Perhaps you have an answer for me?" There came no reply. "Gordon!" Galileo whipped his head from the desk and leapt to his feet.

"I w-wish I was an octag-g-gon and n-n-not a square!" He exclaimed. The boys in the classroom all turned to look at him – identical expressions of surprise on their faces. Galileo continued, self-consciously, but still unable to control himself. "If I was an octagon, then I w-w-wouldn't care…" He finished weakly, lifting his hand up to rub the back of his neck in embarrassment. The clones gave a sharp monotonous laugh before turning to face the teacher once more.

"Sit down." He barked before turning round. Galileo sighed and muttered to himself before going back to typing phrases on his laptop, half paying attention. He teacher carried on with the lesson, choosing to ignore his blatent lack of attention. "Now if a(x+y) equals the number of underground pod commuters and the square root of AX(y) equals the number of over ground pod commuters – how many more underground commuters are there than over ground?"

Underground… Over ground…

It happened quickly, just a flash of a phrase that seemed to sing through Galileo's mind and he furiously got down what had come to him. Clicking save, he looked up to admire his handiwork and gasped in surprise. "Whatnow?!"

"What is it Gordon?"

"N-nothing." He choked out, trying to suppress his confused laugh.

Underground, over ground, Wombling free; the Wombles of Wimbledon Common are we…

Galileo stared, confused. Where was Wimbledon Common?

And what in the name of GaGa was a Womble?