Just Stupid! by Andy Griffiths and Terry Denton Page A

cabinet and grabs a pavlova.
       ‘Let go of him!’ says Danny, balancing the pavlova on one hand.
       ‘Not until he’s learnt his lesson,’ says Dirk, squeezing me even tighter.

       ‘Have it your way,’ says Danny. ‘I just hope you’re hungry.’
       He pushes the pavlova into Dirk’s face. Dirk yells and lets go of me to wipe the cream and strawberries from his eyes. I quickly wriggle away.
       Dirk gets up and lunges at Danny.
       Danny jumps up onto the cake cabinet, leaps for the chandelier and swings himself clear across the restaurant.
       Dirk turns back to me.
       I run to the corner, pull a table over and barricade myself in against the wall.
       Dirk reaches over the top of the table.
       I see a fork on the floor. I pick it up and stab at his hand.
       He shrieks and pulls his arm away.
       He tries to grab the table and pull it away from the wall. I stab him again.
       ‘For heaven’s sake, control your boys,’ the waiter yells at Mum and Dad. ‘They are destroying the restaurant.’
       Dad points at Dirk. ‘What about him?’ he says. ‘He started it!’
       ‘Yeah,’ says the lady who passed me the pepper, ‘the big ugly brute!’
       ‘He is not ugly,’ says Natasha.
       ‘You would say that, you floozy!’ says the lady. She grabs a bowl of fruit salad and tips it over Natasha’s head.

       Danny rushes to Natasha’s aid.
       ‘Leave her alone!’ he says, grabbing the pepper-lady’s hair.
       ‘No, Danny!’ I yell. ‘She’s on our side!’
       But it’s too late. Danny pushes the pepper-lady’s face into a bowl of soup. Her friend throws an omelette at Danny. He ducks and it wraps around the head of a man at the next table. The man’s wife retaliates by throwing a huge plate of seafood at Danny.
       Her throw is wild and the stuff on the tray goes everywhere. Pieces of fish, prawns, crabs, squid, oysters, and lots of other blobby squishy things are flung across the room. Almost everyone in the restaurant is hit by something.
       Suddenly everybody seems to be involved. Food is flying in all directions—entrees, main courses, desserts—you name it, people are chucking it. Even Mum is hurling stuff. She’s not exactly hitting anyone, but she seems to be enjoying herself all the same.
       Dirk smashes a chair against my table. ‘Are you a man or a mouse?’ he roars. ‘Come out and fight!’

       ‘Dirk! That’s enough!’ screams Natasha above the noise.
       But nothing will stop Dirk. He is on a mission. A mission to destroy me.
       If only I had my party popper.
       I look around for my jacket. It’s lying on the floor where Mum dropped it when she fell over the ice bucket.
       I come out from behind the barricade. Dirk is in such a frenzy that he doesn’t see me. I grab a tablecloth and put it over my head.
       I crawl towards my jacket.
       Somebody is hitting me with something hard.
       I peer out from under the tablecloth. It’s Danny. He’s whacking me with a lobster.
       ‘Knock it off, you moron,’ I say. ‘It’s me.’
       ‘Sorry, mate,’ says Danny.
       I make it to my jacket and fumble in the pocket for the popper. Got it!
       I stand up. Something wet and spongy hits me in the face. I fall down and drop the popper.
       I look up.
       Oh no, Dirk has seen me. He’s seen the popper too.
       He dives to the floor. We are both scrabbling for the popper. He grabs it and holds it centimetres away from my face.

       ‘Got you now, you little weasel,’ he says.
       ‘Watch out,’ says Dad. ‘He’s got a party popper!’
       ‘I know that, Dad,’ I say, not taking my eyes off the popper for a second.
       ‘Don’t worry,’ says Danny. ‘I’ve got you covered.’
       We both look up. Danny is standing on top of the bar. He’s holding a bottle of champagne, his thumbs poised on the cork. ‘Drop it, Dirk!’
       Dirk stares at him.
       ‘You keep