Take a seat.

I'm talking to you. 

Take a seat. We're gonna do a crash course on how to get sick.

When I was younger, I remember how scared I was during Sunday nights. I was terrified. I kid you not, but I hated school so much that I was one of those guys who'd fake sick on Monday mornings with the most bullshit of excuses. 

The first technique, I learned this from my father. It is so full proof, that even he, the master, has no way of catching me. You have to stick a piece of ginger down your ass and you get fever in a matter of minutes. The brilliance of this technique lies in the details. The only way to check is to sniff the person's butt. Ah.

The second technique is tethering on masochism. I'd apply pressure on my stomach in a lot of different scenarios. First, I'd lie right on top of a bed post with my belly. Then I'd punch it a lot. Then I'd leave like about seventeen thick books on top of my stomach for about an hour. I'd then show my parents how much my tummy would vibrate. Thinking about it right now makes me fortunate enough to be alive. I was a fucked up 10 year old. 

Then there's the old thermometer-on-the-lamp trick. 

Also, you can wear wet socks and go jogging for about an hour. I'd then go home and faint in my fathers lap. That pale, white, bastard kid of his that I was.

Finally, to save you the trouble, say Headache... my parents have no way to prove it. But then you'd be banished from the TV. 

We good? Now shove that ginger up your ass padawan. A free day beckons.