Just Stupid! by Andy Griffiths and Terry Denton Page A

it sounds more like ‘dem dubby ubbees’.
       I take an even bigger handful. I poke them one by one into the corners of my mouth. Way down into the bottom of my cheeks. One by one into the space between my gums and the top of my lips. I flatten them and paste them across the roof of my mouth. One underneath my tongue. Others moulded around my teeth.

       ‘Fifteen Chubby Bubbies!’ I say. Only it doesn’t sound like that. It doesn’t sound like anything . . . well, nothing human anyway.
       I’ve got to admit that I’m feeling pretty proud of myself.
       Danny’s eyes are wide. He’s wondering how he’s ever going to top my effort.
       Somebody taps me on the shoulder and I almost swallow the lot. That was close.
       I turn around.
       It’s Lisa and Roseanne. Lisa is clutching her book.
       ‘Hi, Andy,’ says Lisa, ‘are you having a good time?’
       Why does she have to pick now to start talking to me? Right now, when I’ve got fifteen marshmallows in my mouth? I can’t talk to her because I would have to swallow them—and I can’t swallow them because I’ll lose the competition and owe Danny one million dollars. But I can’t not talk to her because, well, she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. And I can’t let her find out that I’ve stuffed my mouth full of marshmallows because then the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met will think I’m more of an idiot than she already does.
       I do the only thing possible.

       I nod.
       Pretty rude to just nod when somebody asks you if you’re having a good time, I know, but maybe she’ll think I’m just the strong silent type.
       She smiles.
       ‘That’s good,’ she says. ‘Have you had something to eat?’
       If only she knew the truth.
       I nod again.
       Lisa frowns.
       ‘Are you all right?’ she says.
       I nod for a third time. I give her the thumbs up and try to smile appreciatively without letting the fifteen marshmallows erupt from my mouth.
       ‘Can I ask you something?’ she says.
       An idea comes to me.
       I can’t swallow the marshmallows, but maybe I can take them out for a while. We can resume the game later.
       I pretend that I’m going to sneeze.
       ‘Ah . . . ah . . .’
       I turn away from the table.
       ‘Choo!’
       I ‘sneeze’ the marshmallows into my right hand, wipe my mouth and turn back to face Lisa and Roseanne.

       ‘Bless you,’ says Lisa.
       ‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘What did you want to ask me?’
       She blushes and looks shy.
       ‘Can we see your palm?’ she asks.
       ‘Sure,’ I say.
       I hold out my left hand.
       She shakes her head.
       ‘No, I need your right hand,’ she says.
       I can feel the wet stickiness of the fifteen half-chewed marshmallows dripping through my fingers. It’s not a nice feeling. I don’t think Lisa really needs to see this.
       ‘You don’t want to see my right hand,’ I say.
       ‘Yes I do,’ she says. ‘The book says that the right hand gives a more accurate reading.’
       ‘Not in my case,’ I say. ‘My left hand is much better. Isn’t it, Danny?’
       He nods. It’s not like he can really do anything else.
       ‘Andy,’ says Roseanne, ‘just show us your right hand.’
       I’m going to have to show them my hand.
       But not with the marshmallows.

       I turn away from them, slip the gooey mess into my jacket pocket and wipe my palm on my jeans. I hold it out flat.
       ‘Thank you, Andy,’ says Lisa.
       She takes hold of my hand. It is still moist and sticky from the marshmallows, but she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s too busy comparing it with the picture in her book.
       ‘Good heartline,’ says Lisa to Roseanne.
       ‘Strong lifeline,’ says Roseanne to Lisa.
       ‘This is very promising,’ says Lisa. She gives me the most beautiful smile and lets go of my hand. She’s obviously noticed the similarity