Einstein's Underpants--And How They Saved the World Read Online Free PDF Page B

algebra.
    â€˜Look, I did an experiment. There were some tricky problems, and I couldn’t work them out, but when I put on the underpants . . . well, I sort of could. It was amazing, really.’
    Melvyn sighed. ‘OK then, let’s assume that you’re right, and that the world is about to be invaded, and that Einstein’s underpantshave turned you into a genius. What do you want us to do next?’
    â€˜Otto said we can’t do it on our own. We have to find the other superheroes.’
    â€˜What do you mean the
other
superheroes?’
    â€˜I mean the others as well as us.’
    â€˜Us? Since when were we superheroes?’
    â€˜You admitted that I’ve got super-intelligence when I wear Einstein’s underpants, yeah?’
    â€˜Yeah,’ said Melvyn sceptically.
    â€˜So that’s me sorted. And you – well, you do have a sort of special power.’
    â€˜Do I?’
    At that moment a bus (the number thirteen, of course) rumbled past them on the High Street. One of its fat tyres rolled over the corpse of a mouldy, blackened banana. The laws of physics, biology and chemistry should have dictated that the banana was simply squished beneath the tyre, but the laws of the natural universe would oftenbehave erratically around Melvyn, and now they conspired to send the pulpy mass of rank banana matter shooting towards him like a huge gobbet of phlegm fired from a giant footballer’s nose.
    Alexander saw the mushy projectile speeding towards his friend and tried to drag him out of the way, but he only succeeded in making sure the banana impacted juicily on Melvyn’s inner thigh.
    Although the manky banana gunk was travelling at the speed of a peregrine falcon falling on its prey, it was too soft to cause any serious physical damage. That, however, was not the point. The point was to add more textural interest to the wet patch on Melvyn’s trousers. It now looked for all the world as if Melvyn’s little accident in his pants had spread and seeped out from its original site to engulf the entire area from knee to belt. This wasn’t just diarrhoea, this was cholera, this was the bloody flux.
    â€˜Boggeration,’ he said, the nearest heever came to using bad language.
    â€˜See what I mean? That sort of bad luck – I mean, bad luck taken to those sorts of cosmic levels – well, that counts as a special power. In its way it’s as impressive as being able to fly or walk through walls or fire laser beams out of your eyes.’
    Melvyn made a grunting sound. It was hard to know if it was a grunt of agreement or a grunt of despair, which is one of the problems with grunting as a means of communication, and the main reason why primitive man invented words.
    â€˜So, that’s you and me, the first of the few. I’m the brainiac leader, and you’re, erm, Unluckeon.’
    â€˜
Unluckeon?
’
    â€˜Yeah, you know, everyone needs a special superhero name.’
    â€˜Unluckeon’s a bit rubbish.’
    â€˜Well, try to think of something better then. But the thing is, if you and I have these amazing powers . . .’
    Melvyn coughed, although coughing is an even less efficient way of conveying meaning than grunting.
    â€˜. . .
amazing powers
, then there are bound to be other kids in our school who do as well. Because, you know, it would be a bit weird, wouldn’t it, if we were the only ones and just happened to be best friends. So all we have to do is find them.’
    â€˜And how do we do that?’
    â€˜What we need to do is hold some – what-do-you-call-it? – auditions.’
    â€˜Like
The X Factor
for freaks?’
    â€˜Exactly!’
    Melvyn combined a grunt, a cough and a snort. He was still attempting to wipe off the smeared banana mess when they wandered into their form room for morning registration. At just that moment Matthew Norrington released one of his notorious SBDs, its