A bang up job

“What else?” I asked Charlene. “I’ve got the flour, mayo, artichoke hearts, sun dried tomato.” She nodded. “And don’t forget the knife sharpener, and the nylon rope.” I hate the holidays.

Before she could answer, there was a knock at the door. "So early?" Charlene said & pushed past me with the cheese tray. "Happy Novjaron!" came a cry from the door. It was the Harts, of course, already slightly drunk on Navjaron Nog. I saw the Larsens behind them bringing a huge

bust of a famous figure, sculpted out of pâté. The highlight of the day’s feast! Someone has to guess who the bust depicts before we can eat it. I had been studying biographies on Wikipedia for three weeks leading up to the party.

But when I saw the bust, it didn’t ring a bell. Not even my many hours poring over Wikipedia pages could have prepared for this. Guess my professor was right. “No bell?” I thought. Hmm… “It’s Alfred Nobel!” I blurted.

“That is correct! You win a Nobel Prize!” I was over the moon. The game show host brought a shiny gold medal and placed it over my neck. “Not many people know Nobel nowadays, not after that dynamite scandal.”

The host walked away, casting a quick glance back before disappearing behind a heavy curtain. It was only then that I noticed a ticking sound coming from the medal, “excuse me,” I said to nobody, “can someone…” KABOOOM!!