Just Stupid! by Andy Griffiths and Terry Denton

Natasha.
       ‘Just let me hit him once,’ he says. He raises the breadstick over his shoulder.
       I throw my last olive. Dirk bats it straight back at me. It’s like a bullet. It hits me in the chest with such force that I am propelled backwards onto a table-top.
       I look up. I see the surprised faces of two old ladies above me.
       ‘Excuse me,’ I say. ‘A little accident . . .’
       ‘Accident nothing,’ says one of the ladies. ‘It was that brute’s fault.’
       ‘I’ve never liked that Dirk Gibson,’ says the other lady, putting a little bowl of pepper into my hand. ‘He’s nothing but a big bully. Give him this from us.’
       ‘Thanks,’ I say. It’s just what I need. And just in time.
       Dirk picks me up by my collar. He’s frothing at the mouth. I throw the pepper into his face. The reaction is instant.
       ‘Ah-ah-ah . . . CHOO!’
       Right in my face. I’m blown back acrossthe table. Dirk staggers around blindly and crashes into the waiter who is carrying a tray of drinks.

       The waiter stumbles backwards into my dad’s lap. Dirk lands on top of them both. Dad’s chair collapses and they end up in a sprawling heap on top of him.
       ‘Get off me, you big ape!’ yells Dad.
       ‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ says the waiter.
       ‘I wasn’t talking to you,’ says Dad. ‘I was talking to that gorilla on top of us.’
       ‘Are you calling me a gorilla?’ says Dirk, getting to his feet.
       Dad wriggles out from underneath the waiter and stands up. ‘On second thoughts, no,’ says Dad, brushing himself off. ‘Because it’s an insult to gorillas. I’d say somebody who picks on people smaller than himself is more accurately described as a coward.’
       ‘Go, Mr G!’ calls Danny.
       ‘Shut up, Danny!’ says Dad.
       ‘You just made a big mistake, fella,’ says Dirk. ‘Nobody calls Dirk Gibson a coward and gets away with it.’
       ‘Oh knock it off, Dirk,’ says Natasha.
       But Dirk’s not listening. He is bearing down on Dad. Dad is backing away. He looks behind him at a large display of fruit. He picks up a pineapple.

       ‘Don’t come any closer,’ says Dad. ‘I’ve got a pineapple . . . and I’m not afraid to use it.’
       Dirk laughs.
       ‘Just try it!’ he says.
       ‘If you insist,’ says Dad.
       Dad whups Dirk over the head with the pineapple. Dirk staggers around looking dazed. His legs buckle underneath him and he slumps to the ground. You can almost see the birds and stars circling above him.
       ‘Good one, Mr G!’ says Danny.
       Mum appears beside us. She has my jacket in her hand.
       ‘Come on,’ she says. ‘We’re leaving. Before you can do any more damage.’
       ‘But what about our food?’ says Danny.
       ‘Never mind your food,’ says the waiter. He’s kneeling on the floor, putting the broken glasses back on the tray. ‘I think it’s best for everyone if you leave now. There is a fish and chip shop at the end of the street. You might feel more at home there.’
       Mum gives him one of her withering looks.
       He gives her one back.
       She huffs, turns and walks straight into an ice bucket on a stand. It clatters to the floor and she falls on top of it. Dad rushes to help her.

       ‘Oh no,’ says Danny, grabbing my arm. ‘Look!’
       I turn around.
       The noise seems to have woken Dirk out of his stupor. He shakes his head and looks at us.
       ‘Quick,’ says Danny. ‘Run!’
       ‘Oh no you don’t!’ roars Dirk.
       We are heading for the door. Danny is just ahead of me. We are almost at the cake cabinet near the front register. I look back. Too late.
       Dirk leaps and tackles me to the ground. I’m scrambling to get away but he’s holding me tightly around my waist, boa constrictor style. He’s going to squeeze me to death.
       ‘Help me, Danny!’ I gasp.
       Danny runs around to the back of the cake