Just Doomed!

by Andy Griffiths

  Answer: 40 minutes (this is including two 15-minute recharging breaks, which is the required minimum for cyborgs, according to the 2010 International Cyborg Warrior-Slave Convention).

  13.

  FIRING JEN OUT OF A CANNON

  If you put your sister Jen into a cannon (while she was asleep) and fired her at a 45-degree angle over the ocean and she travelled at a velocity of 96 metres per second for 24 seconds, how long would it take her to swim back to shore (assuming that she woke up when she hit the water)?

  Answer: Hopefully long enough for you to run back home, get into bed and pretend to be asleep so that she would never know it was you who did it.

  14.

  HICCUP ATTACK!

  If you started hiccuping at 10 am and hiccuped every 3 seconds for the rest of the day and all that night and all the next day and there was still no sign of them stopping and you tried all the usual stuff to stop them like holding your breath, drinking a glass of water, pressing your thumbs against your eyelids and getting somebody else to scare you but you still couldn’t stop hiccuping and you had 2 oranges and somebody gave you 3 oranges, how many oranges would you have?

  Answer: 5, of course, but you would probably still have the hiccups.

  15.

  JUGGLING ORANGES

  If you were juggling 5 oranges and one of the oranges inexplicably flew out of your hand and travelled across the room at 30 kilometres per hour and knocked your mother’s priceless Ming Dynasty vase off the shelf and onto the ground, how many pieces would it shatter into?

  Answer: Hard to say with 15th-century porcelain, but I wouldn’t advise hanging around to count them. I would, however, advise changing your name, getting a false passport and leaving the country immediately.

  16.

  GETTING READY FOR SCHOOL

  If you have to be at school by 9 am and it takes you 15 minutes to get dressed, 20 minutes to eat, 10 minutes to annoy Jen, 5 minutes to sit at the table asking your mum dumb questions, 60 minutes to test an experimental fighter jet you’ve been working on, 120 minutes to go sky-diving, 40 minutes to surf the biggest wave ever surfed in history, 180 minutes to climb up the outside of Centrepoint Tower unaided by ropes, 600 minutes to go on an epic journey and defeat a terrible dragon, and then 35 minutes to walk to school, what time would you have to get up in order to arrive at school on time?

  Answer: 3 hours before you went to bed.

  17.

  TRAIN CRASH

  If you were driving a train travelling east at 100 kilometres per hour and you were to meet Danny driving a train travelling west at 120 kilometres per hour on the same line, what percentage of TOTALLY AWESOME would the resulting collision be?

  Answer: 100 per cent TOTALLY AWESOME!!!

  18.

  DANNY’S HEAD

  If you were to remove Danny’s head (well he removed yours in problem 7 so it’s only fair) and you dropped it from a height of 100 metres, and each time it hit the ground it bounced 3/5ths of the height it fell previously, how high would Danny’s head bounce on its 5th bounce?

  Answer: Don’t worry about it, you idiot! Get out of there before the cops arrive and bust you for littering.

  19.

  NUCLEAR-BOMB COLLECTION

  Danny gave Lisa half of his nuclear-bomb collection. Lisa gave Jeremy half of the nuclear bombs she received from Danny. Jeremy kept 8 of those nuclear bombs and donated the remaining 10 to charity. How many nuclear bombs did Danny give Lisa to begin with?

  Answer: 72 nuclear bombs. But the real question here is: what idiot entrusted Danny Pickett with 72 nuclear bombs in the first place???

  20.

  ASSASSINATION ATTEMPTS

  If 1 of your mortal enemies tried to assassinate you on Monday, and 2 more of your mortal enemies tried to assassinate you on Tuesday and 4 more of your mortal enemies tried to assassinate you on Wednesday, how many assassination attempts would you expect on Sunday?

  Answer: Zero, because on Thursday you created an indestructible cyborg warrior-slave that crushed the heads of all of your enemies, leaving you free to rule the world, remember? (See problem 12.)

  21.

  KISS CHASEY

  Before school one day a game of kiss chasey breaks out in the playground. If 10 girls chased 5 boys and every girl kissed every boy 10 times, how many kisses in total would have been administered to these unfortunate boys and what are the chances of any of them surviving until recess?

  Answer: There would have been 500 kisses administered in this deadly game of germ warfare and the chance of any of the kissed boys surviving is zero. Girl germs are 100 per cent fatal 100 per cent of the time.

  22.

  GIRL GERMS

  Girl germs in a Petri dish double the area they cover every day. If the dish is completely covered in girl germs after 16 days, what safety procedures should be followed to avoid worldwide girl-germ contamination?

  Answer: The entire population of Earth should be evacuated and the planet destroyed. (In addition to invisible-border-crossing infractions and unauthorised eraser borrowings, it is important to take a firm stand on the possibility of girl-germ contamination of the entire universe.)

  23.

  MAKE A NUMBER BEG FOR MERCY

  Think of a number. Now wrestle it to the ground. Now get it into a headlock. Now wrap your legs around it and squeeze really hard until it can hardly breathe. Now hit it over the head with a chair. Now pick it up, spin it around over your head and slam it into the mat. Now climb up onto the ropes and administer an atomic pile-driver and do it over and over again until the number begs for mercy, but do you show it any?

  Answer: No.

  24.

  SIMULATED SNOWSTORM

  If you took a piece of paper and cut it in half and then cut each of those pieces in half and then each of those pieces in half again and then repeated this process on every last sheet of paper you could find in the house and then you threw all of the cut-up pieces of paper around the room and yelled ‘SNOWSTORM!’, and you can run at 4 kilometres per hour and your parents can run at 6 kilometres per hour how many seconds head start would you need in order to avoid them catching you and following through on their threat to pull each of your 10 fingers off one at a time so that you can never do it again?

  Answer: 2 seconds. But you might want to give it a couple more, just to be on the safe side. You can’t be too careful where your fingers are concerned.

  25.

  NUMBER MADNESS!

  Think of a number. Halve it. Add 10. Double it. Multiply it by 5. Subtract 6. Divide it by 4. Kick its butt. Punch its nose. Slap its face. Add 400 oranges, 82 severed heads and 3 billion head-on train crashes. Multiply it by 4000 broken Ming vases, divide it by 2 angry puffer fish and subtract 99 nuclear bombs. What number are you left with?

  Answer: How would I know? It depends on what number you started with. But, hey, you don’t need me anymore. You’re on your own now because you have successfully completed ANDY’S ACTION-PACKED MATHS PROGRAM!!!™ and are hereby officially excused from all further maths lessons, maths homework and maths tests for the rest of your life.

  JUST

  NUDE!

  At last!

  We’re here!

  After driving for three long days we’ve finally arrived!

  Dad stops the car in front of a big fancy gate. ‘Well, this is it,’ he says. ‘Sunnylands Naturist Resort!’

  ‘Wow!’ I say. ‘Fancy gates! And an intercom! Impressive!’

  ‘Don’t forget the private beach,’ says Dad. ‘Did I mention it’s got a private beach?’

  ‘Only about a thousand times,’ says Jen.

  ‘Well it does,’ says Dad. ‘It’s got a private beach.’

  ‘Gates, intercom and a private beach!’ I say. ‘This must be how millionaires have holidays!’

  ‘Wrong,’ says Mum. ‘When millionaires go on holiday they don’t drive—they fly.’

  ‘Maybe,’ I say, ‘but I bet they all fly here!’


  A line of palm trees stretches down the drive as far as I can see. On either side there are lush green lawns. In the distance I can make out a bunch of dinosaurs—well, not real ones, I think they’re part of a mini-golf course. A mini-golf course with dinosaurs! Just like cavemen in prehistoric times would have had.

  ‘Are we just going to sit here admiring the gate or are we going to go inside?’ says Jen.

  ‘I wanna push the button!’ I say, rolling down my window. I press the intercom and it crackles into life.

  ‘Welcome to Sunnylands!’ says a voice. ‘Do you have a booking?’

  ‘Yes,’ says Dad. ‘The Griffiths family.’

  ‘Great to have you here,’ says the voice. ‘We’ve been expecting you. Just follow the driveway until you get to the fountain. Reception is right beside it.’

  The gates open and we drive through.

  ‘It’s very nice,’ says Mum as we wind through the lush tropical gardens. ‘Almost too nice. Are you sure we can afford this?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ says Dad. ‘The rates are very reasonable and Mr Bainbridge recommended it—and you know what he’s like.’

  Mr Bainbridge is Dad’s boss. He’s not somebody who likes to waste money—or even spend it for that matter. If Mr Bainbridge comes here it’s probably because it’s the best-value holiday resort in the entire world.

  Finally we come to the fountain.

  It’s made up of a statue family all leaping up in the air to catch a beach ball that is being blasted by a jet of water from underneath so it looks like it’s spinning in mid-air.

  ‘Nice fountain,’ says Jen.

  ‘You just like it because they haven’t got any clothes on,’ I say. ‘They’re all nude!’

  ‘That’s because they’re statues,’ says Jen. ‘Don’t you know anything about art? The statue of David, hello?!’

  I’m about to ask her which one is David when I catch sight of the man behind the desk in reception.

  That’s weird. I would have thought the people who work at a place like this would wear a uniform of some kind. At the very least a shirt with the name of the resort on the pocket or maybe a nametag. But this man is not wearing a Sunnylands shirt. In fact, he’s not even wearing a shirt! He’s just standing there with no shirt on leaning casually on the counter as if he’s the one having a holiday.

  ‘Welcome to Sunnylands Naturist Resort!’ he says cheerfully as we enter. ‘First time here?’

  ‘Yes,’ says Mum.

  ‘Don’t worry, you’ll love it,’ he says. ‘I’ll just get your key.’

  He turns and walks across the office.

  Jen gasps.

  Mum gasps.

  Dad gasps.

  I gasp.

  A shirt is not the only thing this guy is not wearing.

  He’s not wearing any pants, either.

  Or underpants.

  Nothing.

  ‘Is something the matter?’ the nude man says, turning back to the desk, catching us all mid-gasp.

  ‘Um, er, ah …’ stutters Dad. ‘It’s just that … er …’

  ‘I’m not wearing any clothes?’ says the man.

  ‘Well … yes!’ says Dad. ‘Shouldn’t you cover up?’

  The man just laughs. ‘Why on earth would I want to do that? I came into the world naked, I’ll go out naked and in between I intend to spend as much time as possible naked. That’s what Sunnylands is all about!’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ says Mum.

  ‘That’s what Sunnylands is all about,’ repeats the nude man. ‘You do realise that, don’t you?’

  Mum frowns. ‘Are you saying Sunnylands is a … nudist resort?’

  ‘Well, we prefer naturist resort,’ says the nude man. ‘As close to nature as it’s possible to be! You didn’t know?’

  Mum shoots Dad a deadly look.

  ‘No, I did not,’ she says.

  ‘Me neither!’ says Dad. ‘I swear!’

  ‘Never mind,’ says the man. ‘You’re here now. First-timers can sometimes feel a bit uncomfortable to begin with, but that doesn’t last for long. Once you’ve experienced the joy and freedom of nude holidaying you’ll wonder why you never did it before. And it’s not like you’ll be the only ones … you won’t find any textiles here!’

  ‘Textiles?’ says Mum.

  The man chuckles. ‘That’s what we call people who wear clothes. We enforce a strict no-clothing policy at all times to make sure none of our guests feel uncomfortable.’

  ‘Did you say a strict no-clothing policy?’ I ask.

  ‘That’s right,’ says the man.

  ‘What about bathers?’ says Jen.

  ‘I’m afraid not,’ says the man. ‘But once you’ve swum without them you’ll wonder why you ever bothered.’

  We all stand there saying nothing.

  ‘Would you excuse us for a moment?’ says Mum. ‘We just need to have a little family discussion.’

  ‘No problem,’ says the nude man. ‘Just ring the bell when you’ve made up your minds. And there’s no pressure—if you decide not to stay I’ve got plenty of people on my waiting list who will jump at the chance. Sunnylands is the number-one naturist resort in Australia, you know!’

  Mum nods and smiles politely.

  She waits until the manager leaves and then turns to Dad. ‘A nudist resort?’ she hisses. ‘What on earth were you thinking?’

  ‘I didn’t know it was a nudist resort,’ says Dad. ‘It didn’t say nudist resort on the website. It said “naturist resort”. I thought it was one of those eco-tourist sustainable nature-lover type places.’

  Jen is just shaking her head. ‘I already knew I had a dumb brother,’ she says, ‘but I can’t believe that I’ve got such a dumb dad!’

  ‘But the Bainbridges recommended it!’ says Dad. ‘And they’re not nudists. They’re the least nude people you could imagine!’

  ‘Yeah, remember how shocked they were that time when they saw you and me in the nude?’ I say.

  ‘What?’ says Jen. ‘Mr and Mrs Bainbridge saw you both in the nude?’

  ‘To cut a long story short,’ says Dad, ‘it happened that time you were away in Mildura—Andy and I got locked out of the house with only our bath towels around us. Then Sooty stole them so we had to cover ourselves with mud and go to my office to get a spare key for the house, but when we got there it started raining and all the mud washed off and, well, let’s just say that when Mr and Mrs Bainbridge arrived and discovered us without any clothes, or mud, on they were a little shocked, to say the least.* But that’s not the point. We have to work out what we’re going to do.’

  ‘That’s easy!’ I say. ‘We go somewhere else, of course.’

  ‘There is nowhere else,’ says Dad. ‘The last town we drove through was at least two hours from here and it was just a hotel and a general store. And even if there was somewhere else we wouldn’t be able to get in anyway. Everything is booked solid this time of year.’

  ‘Then we’ll just have to go home,’ says Jen.

  ‘I can’t believe I’m about to say this,’ I say, ‘but I agree with Jen. Let’s get out of here as fast as we can—before we see any more nude people.’

  I start to head for the door. But Mum steps in front of me.

  ‘Wait a moment,’ she says. ‘Not so fast. We’ve been in the car for three days. Three long days. Three long days of listening to you and Jen fighting and complaining and carrying on. There’s no way I’m getting back in that car and that’s final.’

  ‘But what’s the alternative?’ says Dad.

  ‘We stay,’ she says.

  ‘What did you say?’ says Jen.

  ‘You heard me,’ says Mum. ‘Why not? We’ve come all this way—why not give it a go?’

  ‘Because it’s a nudist resort,’ says Jen. ‘That’s why!’

  ‘Naturist resort,’ says Mum. ‘Remember what the man said?’

  ‘Oh, you mean the creepy guy without any clothes on?’ says Jen.

  ‘He wasn’t creepy
,’ says Mum. ‘And besides, I thought he spoke a lot of good sense. We’ve spent our whole lives wearing clothes: maybe it’s time we tried something different. Plus, I definitely need a holiday and if being nude is the only way I’m going to get one then fine, I’ll be nude. I say we stay.’

  ‘But the place is full of nudists,’ I remind her. ‘Nude nudists. Nude nudists without any clothes on. Nude nudists in the nude!’

  ‘If you don’t like it you can just close your eyes.’

  ‘For two weeks?’

  ‘It’s not like we’ll be the only nude people,’ says Mum. ‘Everyone else will be nude as well.’

  ‘And it’s got a private beach!’ says Dad, who seems to have come around to Mum’s way of thinking.

  ‘Hmmm,’ says Jen. ‘I guess it would be nice to get an all-over tan—no bikini lines.’

  ‘Too much information!’ I shout, putting my fingers in my ears.

  ‘Oh, grow up, Andy!’ says Jen. ‘You are so immature—it’s just nudism!’

  ‘Naturism, Jen,’ says Dad.

  ‘Whatever,’ says Jen. ‘Mum’s right. I say we stay.’

  ‘Me too,’ says Dad. ‘All we’ve got to lose is our clothes!’

  ‘What about me?’ I say.

  ‘Three to one, Andy,’ says Jen. ‘You’re outvoted.’

  Before I can argue any more Mum rings the counter bell.

  The nude man reappears. ‘Well?’ he says. ‘What’s it to be?’

  ‘We’re staying,’ says Mum.

  ‘Wonderful!’ he says. ‘You won’t regret it. Here’s a box for your clothes.’

  ‘Our clothes?’ says Dad.

  ‘Yes,’ says the nude man. ‘As I said, here at Sunnylands we have a strict no-clothing policy. For the comfort of the other guests we ask that you surrender all your items of clothing before you enter the resort. They’ll be quite safe and you’ll get them back when you leave—if you want them back, that is!’