My sister Lynsey reminded me of another story about Charles Chung. In grade 7 or 8, we were all in PE class in the gym. Our class was presided over by the cruelest gym teacher in Canada, Mr. Desjardins (what a charming name, though he didn't have a hint of Frenchness in him). In our school, his name was synonymous with pain and degradation.
It's the start of class, and Mr. Desjardins is holding a volleyball. He grabs Charles, no doubt recognizing another bully, and stations him against one of the gym walls. He hands out a few more volleyballs, and then says, with remarkable glee 'okay, everybody wang chung.' Chaos ensued.