Googol Boy and the peculiar incident of the Great Quiz Trophy, John Michael [white hot kiss txt] 📗
- Author: John Michael
Book online «Googol Boy and the peculiar incident of the Great Quiz Trophy, John Michael [white hot kiss txt] 📗». Author John Michael
“Well it’s level pegging folks, even stevens, coude-à-coude as they say in French. To be certain, there’s absolutely nothing in it... now the next question to the girls. Only the bold and the gallant shall prevail in these uncertain times of collywobbles and wobblybumps.”
Principal Ditherington then spent the next few minutes shuffling through his list of questions as it appeared that he had got the sheets out of order. Just when it seemed that all hope was lost, he yelled out “Eureka, I found it!” and finally read the next question to Savani and Penelope.
“I was born in 1845 and died in 1923. I worked as a physicist and mechanical engineer and was also a lecturer at university. I am best known for the discovery of rays which I named X-rays and for which I received the first Nobel Prize in Physics in 1901. Who am I?”
Savani opened her mouth but no words came out. She then bit her lip and her eye started to twitch. Then there was a long pause. She was stumped. I couldn’t believe it.
“Discovered X-rays?” Savani repeated to herself.
“What’s the answer Howie?” Barney whispered.
“I have no idea Barney... the tank is empty; the battery is dead and my brain is drained. And don’t shake me again! I think I’ve got a couple of loose teeth!”
Penelope turned to Savani. “I believe the answer is Röntgen,” she suggested tentatively.
“Oh please! If that was the answer don’t you think I would have already come up with it?”
“It’s Wilhelm Röntgen,” repeated Penelope.
“Is that your final answer?” enquired the principal.
“No, it’s not!” responded Savani.
“But... but... but...” protested Penelope.
“When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” scoffed Savani.
“I need an answer,” insisted Mr Ditherington.
“The answer is Sir William Crookes,” asserted Savani.
“Sir William Crookes is your final response?”
“Yes!” replied Savani emphatically while Penelope shrugged her shoulders.
“Well, fate and fortune can coincide and bring discommodious disruptions... and, mind you,” stated the principal as he rubbed his chin, “...empty words are easy, like the wind but true answers are hard to find –”
“The answer pleeaaase!” stated Savani through gritted teeth.
“Yes... very well then, without further ado,” said Mr Ditherington as he gulped, “I’m afraid that Sir William Crookes is the wrong answer.”
Gasps from the crowd echoed throughout the pavilion.
“The correct answer was in fact Wilhelm Rontgen.”
More gasps emanated from the crowd and Savani let out an exasperated shriek and stomped her feet like a petulant child, while Penelope did her best to pretend that she wasn’t annoyed.
The principal took to the microphone again. “Well... close, but no cigar, si proche et pourtant si loin. If Howard and Barney get this next question correct, they will be the winners.”
“Eeew Howard! You’ve got to stop doing that.”
“Sowwy Bawney,” I replied. Now my nose was clogged as well and I felt that I was going to go the way of the dodo. “Here’s a dissue.”
“Why? I don’t need it... I’m not sick.”
“Um... you’ve godt a bid of slobber in your hair fom my sneeze.”
“I’m not a big fan of this sneezing of yours Howie,” stated Barney as he snatched the tissue out of my hand.
“Doo bad sneezing iz not a suberbower... I would be invincible!”
“Well, as my mum would say, too many too bads ruin the soup.”
“Okay boys,” interrupted Mr Ditherington. “If you answer this question correctly − you will be the Great Quiz champions!”
There was a round of applause from the crowd and, of course, my mum had to embarrass me with an “I love you Howie!” thrown out there for everyone to hear. Note to self − when Mum is old and wrinkly later in life, make sure that you put her into that crooked nursing home that was exposed by the Quockingpoll Flats Gazette.
“Now, the question for the championship,” stated the principal in his most earnest voice. “I was born in 1935 and was a professional ice hockey centre who played 18 seasons in the National League for the Chattapootti Caribous and then the Pimpleton Penguins. I scored an average of 55 goals per season and was named as one of the '100 Greatest Hockey Players' in history. Who am I?”
I thought about the question with all my might but my brain failed to respond. Instead of cogs whirring my brain was flat-lining. I turned to Barney and whimpered, “I’m sowwy... I’ve godt nothin’ ad all.”
“Born in 1935?” repeated Barney. “18 seasons... an average of 55 goals!”
“I dink that’s waz the bincibal said,” I replied.
“Don’t you worry Howie,” declared Barney as he pushed me out of the way. “I’ve got this one!”
“With 773 assists as well as 41 game winning goals,” continued Barney.
“I’m afraid I’ll need a name,” demanded Mr Ditherington.
“A total of 739 games played with 340 penalty minutes!”
“An answer please!” insisted the principal.
“Oh don’t you worry,” stated Barney. “Have I got an answer for you!”
“Yes?”
“It’s Sammie Shimkus!”
Mr Ditherington looked at his card and looked at Barney.
“Well, Sammie Shimkus shimmied across the slates, slowly sliding sideways as he stretched across the sandy shoreline and stopped short,” replied the principal. Barney and I just looked at each other, perhaps the heat was getting to Mr Ditherington.
“Huh?” queried Barney. “I don’t think I understand.”
“Well, that is what you would call an attempt at building suspense,” explained the principal. “With an added splash of sibilance. Now, what was your final answer my young man?”
“Sammie Shimkus,” repeated Barney, looking rather irritated this time.
“To be certain and to be certain once again – that is the right answer!” responded the principal with great enthusiasm. “Congratulations!”
Wild cheers erupted from the audience and everybody was applauding, well
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