Work experience as an arsey teenager is pretty straightforward: disappear into the storeroom, smoke a few cigarettes, text your mates and watch the minute hand tick slowly by. If there's nowhere suitable to hide, all you need is a vacant computer and you can chat to your skiving associate in the building next door.

He can gamble away his last penny for all I care.

The burglar employed a jemmy to get in.

I don't get what you mean by fun. This place sucks!