by Nigel Smith
Team two, Quizzie Rascal, starred Miss Austen, Penny Posnitch, Penny’s friend Abi, and a Mrs Ethers, one of the few parents from the POGS committee who thought Dad was creative and funny and not an utter menace, though now, deafened by the feedback earlier, she was having second thoughts.
Team three, Quiz Teama Aguilera, featured a sniffy Miss Eyre, a nervous Mrs Posnitch and two boys who had been best friends ever since Darius glued them together.
Miss Hunny, Nat, Darius and Mr Doctor Marling made up team four. Darius had written down their name on the team sheets as The Test Icicles, but at the last minute Miss Hunny had realised what it sounded like, crossed it out and had cleverly written Universally Challenged, which even Nat admitted was pretty good.
Finally, Dad handed over to Eric the Quizmaster. Eric was an elderly man with a wrinkled, weather-beaten, beetroot face, who wore a lot of tweed. Everything about him was tweed, from his hat to his socks. Even his face looked like it was woven from tweed. His voice had a tweedy quality to it too, sort of soft and scratchy at the same time.
“We’re going straight into round one,” Eric said nervously. He wasn’t used to this size of audience. He dropped his questions and bent to pick them up. Darius made a rude noise with his eyeball socket and the audience laughed. Eric the Quizmaster straightened up. “It wasn’t me,” he shouted, which just made people laugh more.
Nat wasn’t paying attention. She was thinking fast, thoughts racing, her hand clutching her cheaty answers. She hadn’t seen Darius all day to remind him of her plan. She needed to be sure he realised that this was his big chance. He HAD to behave himself and answer the questions properly. These days at break times he just vanished. She had a horrible feeling he was hiding from Wayne Garvey and the other nasty kids in his class.
The four teams were now all ready, sitting behind their tables, in a big semicircle. Someone dimmed the lights and the audience went, “Oooooh!” Then the lights went out altogether, and the audience went, “Booooo!”
“Shall I press this button again?” said Dad. “NO!” shouted everyone in the hall.
“Oy, chimp,” whispered Nat, “don’t forget, if you do well here, they might realise you’re not a total moron after all and move you from that horrible class. So read these, just in case!” She shoved her answers at Darius under the desk. Darius shoved them back at her. “I’ll be fine,” he said, going back to playing with his chair.
“Don’t be so ungrateful,” said Nat, “I got these especially for you.” She knew that wasn’t ENTIRELY true but she’d very nearly convinced herself it was.
Doctor Marling leaned over, looking annoyed. “What are you two whispering about?” he said. “We’re a team. We need to all work together.” He grabbed the buzzer. “By the way, I should be team captain. Did I tell you I’m a doctor?”
“That’s nice,” said Miss Hunny, her sweet voice suddenly edged with steel. “And I suppose you were in the winning team on University Challenge?”
Mr Marling said nothing, but said nothing VERY LOUDLY.
“I thought not,” she said happily, taking the buzzer. “If anything, I should be captain.”
Nat took the buzzer smugly. Now she was here, she was going to do this properly. “I think you’ll find that I’M captain, cos it’s my dad’s quiz,” she said. “So you can both get lost.”
“Round one!” said Eric the Quizmaster, and the competition began.
Round one was the captains’ round. Straight in at the deep end, thought Nat. She began to feel worried as the questions came closer to her. She didn’t remember any of them. She had a head full of names and dates and chemical formulas and capital cities but these questions were all really trivial. All about films and plays and actors and pop songs and TV shows. Finally it was her turn. Eric looked down at his questions. Perhaps this would be about Henry VIII’s third wife or the Battle of Trafalgar or what a verb was or which metals make tin or what the French for ‘house’ was, or the other zillions of useless facts she’d stuffed into her head.
“Who played Dr Edible in the horror film The Hills Have Teeth?”
“What sort of question’s that?” said Nat, unable to stop herself.
“It’s the question you’ve got ten seconds to answer,” quipped Eric. Eric worked behind a screen at the post office and told people they had the wrong forms and would they go to the back of the queue and start again, and liked being bossy and so was beginning to enjoy himself. Nat now hated him. People in the audience laughed. Nat felt herself going redder than Eric’s nose. She stared out into the sea of faces in the hall, looking angrily for Dad. HE got her into this.
“Um … um …” she floundered. She could see the actor – a tall man with a bald head who pulled funny faces even when he was getting munched by aliens – but couldn’t think of his name.
“Tony Mozzarella,” whispered Darius.
How the heck did Darius know that? She knew he never went to the cinema. Or maybe he was just guessing …
“Three … Two …” Eric was counting down. Nat could see Mr MacAnuff counting down too. He looked pleased his team had got their answer right.
Nat decided to take a chance. “Tony Mozzarella,” she said, expecting a massive roar of laughter.
“Correct!”
On her next turn, it happened again. Eric asked, “Who was the host of the TV show When Cats Go Bad?” Nat floundered. Darius whispered the answer.
“Molly Banjax,” repeated Nat. “Correct!” said Eric. Nat was gobsmacked. She knew Darius was clever, but an expert on film and TV too?
The questions came round to her again and the same thing happened a third time. Once again, Nat didn’t recognise the question, once again Darius whispered the answer, and once again it was correct! She should have been pleased, but these surprise questions were giving her a sense of impending doom. She had been given THE WRONG QUESTIONS. She looked murderously for Dad, but he was still fiddling with the sound mixer.
It seemed like that was it for the captains’ round at least. Now it was the picture round. Teams had to identify objects from weird, close-up photos that were flashed up on a screen by bearded drama and media teacher- Mr Kitkat.
Darius was fastest on the buzzer every time.
“A monkey wrench.”
“An electric guitar.”
“A space shuttle.”
He didn’t say bum, willy, boobypants, bogey or anything like that, not even when the pictures looked a bit like a bum, willy, boobypant or bogey. Nat beamed at him with pride. She saw Mr MacAnuff shooting death stares at Darius, and grumbling and muttering to the others on his team. Nat was delighted. Her genius plan was working!
The next round was the knockout round. Two teams were going out. Each team was given ten questions about one topic and they were allowed to discuss before answering. Mr MacAnuff’s team got Books. They scored eight out of ten.
The Quizzie Rascals had a disastrous round. They got History and only scraped a feeble four points. Miss Austen and her team knew little about the Spanish Armada, not much about the First World War and nothing at all about Alfred the Great, who may as well have been called Alfred The Totally Unheard Of.
Quiz Teama Aguilera fared slightly better with Sport. Miss Eyre and Mrs Posnitch were pretty good tennis players and the two glued boys knew their football. They scored a solid seven. They thought they might have done enough to get through to the final.
Now it was Nat’s team’s turn. Nat was desperately hoping the topic would be Science because she’d spent hours trying to remember trillions of pointless science factoids. She could now label all the parts of the body AND all the parts of an internal combustion engine. She knew which planet came after Jupiter and which element came after Helium. She’d actually remembered whilst swotting up that she really did like facts, even when it was Dad’s fault that she had to learn them.
“The subject is flowers,” said Eric the Quizmaster.
“Arrrrgh nooo!” said Nat, too loudly. People tittered. Na
t simmered in quiet rage. That was IT. Dad was going to suffer for this. She looked over at Mr Doctor Marling, who was also clearly alarmed. He shrugged. “I can’t tell a rose from a rhododendron,” he said. Nat looked over at Miss Hunny but she was shaking her head. “I had some flowers once, but they died,” she moaned. They were doomed. Unless …
Darius answered all ten questions correctly. He knew what country dandelions came from, the colour of a Tudor rose and the date of National Flower Day in Azerbaijan (May 10th). He even knew the Latin name for Giant Hogweed although missed out on the bonus point for not being able to spell it. The audience clapped like mad, as Darius took a small bow. Mr MacAnuff was practically jumping up and down with anger. Nat could see him mouthing the words “ … must be cheating, must be cheating …”
There was a short break to add up the total scores. Darius’s team-mates turned to him in amazement. Miss Hunny was thrilled. “I knew there was more to you than … well, you,” she said. She was going to hug him but his jumper was glistening with various substances and she changed her mind.
“How are you doing this?” whispered Nat, as Eric the Quizmaster returned to the podium with the scores.
“I’ve been in the library all week, where you should have been. I didn’t want you to look like an idiot,” Darius said simply.
WHAT? He didn’t want HER to look like an idiot?? Suddenly Nat was ABSOLUTELY FURIOUS. Here she was trying to save him, and he had the cheek to try and save HER? “I’m never speaking to you again,” she said. “You … git.”
When the scores were read out, Quizzie Rascal and Quiz Teama Aguilera were eliminated. Now it was a straight shoot-out between Nat’s team and Mr MacAnuff’s, in the final. It was going to be a grudge match. The audience were starting to take sides. Quite a few people thought Darius must be cheating, while others said that was sour grapes and they should stop their moaning. A minor scuffle broke out after Dad accidentally turned all the lights out again and no one could see who was jabbing who in the ribs.
The final was a close-fought affair, questions coming thick and fast. It was a free-for-all, with fastest fingers on the buzzers getting to shout out the answer. Time counted down; it was close, very close. Mr Doctor Marling was great at science, Miss Hunny was a whizz at poetry, but against them, Mister MacAnuff was red-hot on beer and daytime TV.
The contest was even closer than it should have been because Nat wouldn’t let their star team member answer any questions. She didn’t care how stupid she looked, every time he buzzed, she butted in before Darius could answer.
“What are you doing, girl?” said Mr Doctor Marling, after Nat had suggested that the first names of the three Brontë sisters were TinkyWinky, La-La and Po.
“Let Bagley answer,” he said, frustrated. “He’s quite clearly a damn sight smarter than you.”
That was IT. That made Nat very much MORE ANGRY. He was – but why did everyone have to be so sure of it? Now she just buzzed at every question, whether she had any idea of the answer or not. She was just shouting out random answers to all the pointless questions she’d been forced to learn by her STUPID DAD. They didn’t match the questions. Worse, this was the very final round, where Eric took points away for wrong answers.
“Stop it,” said Darius, after Nat put the Sea of Tranquillity in Africa rather than on the moon where it belonged. “I know all the answers.”
“How? How have you remembered all this – even with the library to help you? Because you’re just sooo clever?” she hissed back.
“Well, yes,” he said, “and because my brother makes me watch a lot of TV.”
But it didn’t matter now. Nat couldn’t control herself.
Nat’s team saw their lead slip as Nat got question after question wrong. Finally, Mr Doctor Marling and Miss Hunny grabbed her hands to stop her pressing the buzzer. The audience cheered as Nat wriggled, frantically trying to get free. She even tried to buzz with her forehead, banging her head on the desk. The audience applauded. “Don’t clap at that,” shouted Dad.
Nat heard the laughter from the crowd.
Across the tables, Penny Posnitch was looking at her and mouthing: “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”
But it was too late to stop now.
“Costa Rica,” she shouted. “Wolverhampton Wanderers.”
The audience were really glad they’d come to see this. Even the Chair was thoroughly enjoying himself. “I have to admit,” he said to the Head,“since that idiot took over the POGS committee, evenings at school have been much more fun.” The Head sighed.
Nat was still yelling. “Treasure Island. Queen Victoria. A fruit bat.” The bell went and Eric started to add up the scores.
Nat took deep breaths. “I hope you’re
pleased with yourself,” she said to Darius.
“How dare you try to help me when I’m trying to help you.”
“Friends help EACH OTHER, Buttface,” said Darius.
Oh … poo, thought Nat. He’s right. Bum, willie, poo. She was mortified – she’d done exactly the opposite of what she’d meant to do. He was her friend and she was meant to be saving him, not exacting revenge!
“It’s a tie,” shouted Eric.
“Ooooh,” went the audience.
“Tie break!” shouted Mr MacAnuff, who would show Bagley who was a non-teacher. “Let’s see who’s the best.”
“Oooooh,” said the audience again. With an extra ‘o’ this time.
“Good idea,” said Eric. Each team had to pick one member to go head-to-head to answer a tie-break question. “It’s obviously me or the Bagley,” said Mr Doctor Marling.
“Let Darius do it,” said Nat.
Miss Hunny looked at Mr Doctor Marling. “We should encourage children,” she said. “Go on, Darius.”
Darius shrugged, and took the buzzer.
Mr MacAnuff took his team’s buzzer, eyeballing Darius evilly.
The whole room was silent, waiting for the question.
“Who has dug the word ‘Darius’ into Mister MacAnuff’s prize lawn?” shouted the wife of the Chair, Mrs Thin-and-ugly, who had got bored and gone for a walk.
“WHAAAT?” said Mr MacAnuff, jumping off the stage and running out.
“Do we win?” asked Nat.
“I don’t care,” said the Quizmaster. “But I need a drink.”
AT WAS MISERABLE AS SHE CLAMBERED INTO THE Atomic Dustbin after school the next day. Darius had been suspended, while the evil lawn crime was being investigated. She’d overheard Miss Hunny arguing with Miss Austen outside the staff room. Miss Hunny seemed really upset and was saying stuff about “innocent until proved guilty”. Afterwards, Nat was going to ask her if she was all right, but then she remembered how the teacher had nearly ruined her life by being friends with Dad, so didn’t.
“What’s going to happen to him, Dad?” asked Nat as they drove to school.
Dad didn’t answer for a while. Finally he said: “Your school think he’s trouble but they’re wrong.” There was an angry tone in Dad’s voice that Nat didn’t hear very often. He looked furious. “And I don’t think he dug his name into that stupid lawn. For a start, ‘Darius’ was spelled properly. I’ve seen his writing. Even when he does get the letters in the right order, he puts most of them backwards.”
“Good point, Dad,” said Nat, impressed.
“The poor kid might stand a chance if he had parents who could talk to the Head about it, but Darius has only got Oswald.”
Nat didn’t say anything – she knew what that meant. “He’s got me too, Dad,” she said.
“Good girl,” he said proudly. “I wish I had friends like you.”
“Yeah,” said Nat, remembering Dad’s rubbish mates, the former DJs, “yours let you down.”
Dad smiled gently, also remembering his rubbish mates. “They might, but the important thing is, not to let THEM down.”
Nat thought about Darius and wondered what she could do.
“Which reminds me, I know what’ll cheer you
up,” said Dad. Nat started to worry. “Because of my quiz-night triumph, they’re letting me do a disco after all.”
“No – no, you can’t …” stammered Nat.
“Ah, you’re thinking I haven’t got the DJ’s. Well, I found a replacement.”
“Who?” Nat asked nervously.
“Oh, he’s very good,” said Dad in a voice that warned Nat something horrid was about to happen. “He dope.”
“Who’s a dope?” she said, growing more suspicious.
“Only the Wolverhampton wizard of the wheels of steel, the vinyl villain in Da House …”
This was SO bad news. “Oh no, Dad …”
Dad started rapping. “Oh no, Dad, that’s what they tell us – but that’s cos the other DJs is getting jealous …”
“Please, Dad, no, I’ll do anything, I’ll eat my spinach and do my homework …”
“My homework, going beserk … can’t think of another rhyme for homework.”
Nooooo. Dad was going to do the disco himself. AAAAAARGH.
“I’m doing the disco myself,” explained Dad, unnecessarily.
“Please don’t,” said Nat. “For a start, all your records are rubbish.” Dad stopped rapping. He thought about this for a minute. “They are quite rubbish,” he admitted. “I mean, I like them but I’m not sure anyone else does. To be perfectly honest, I’ve even got records that the bands who made the records don’t like.”
“So that’s the first reason I’m not going.”
Dad looked disappointed. “Have a bit of faith, love,” he said. “I can get up to date with modern music. I’ll even listen to Radio Two.”
“And that’s the second reason I’m not going. But the main reason is I don’t want to watch you up on stage dancing about with headphones on, rapping and waving a glow-stick.”