By Paul Murray
Why does Skippy, a fourteen-year-old boy at Dublin's venerable Seabrook collage, prove useless at the flooring of the neighborhood doughnut shop?
Could it have anything to do together with his good friend Ruprecht Van Doren, an obese genius who's made up our minds to open a portal right into a parallel universe utilizing ten-dimensional string theory?
Could it contain Carl, the teenage drug broker and borderline psychotic who's Skippy's rival in love?
Or might "the Automator"―the ruthless, smooth-talking headmaster motive on modernizing the school―have anything to hide?
Why Skippy dies and what occurs subsequent is the topic of this awesome and uproarious novel, unraveling a secret that hyperlinks the lads of Seabrook collage to their mom and dad and lecturers in methods not anyone can have imagined. With a solid of characters that levels from hip-hop-loving fourteen-year-old Eoin "MC Sexecutioner" Flynn to basketball taking part in midget Philip Kilfether, jam-packed with questions and solutions on every little thing from Ritalin, to M-theory, to bungee leaping, to the hidden that means of the poetry of Robert Frost, Skippy Dies is a heartfelt, hilarious portrait of the discomfort, pleasure, and low fantastic thing about formative years, and a sad depiction of an international constantly satisfied to sacrifice its weakest individuals. because the twenty-first century enters its teenage years, it is a breathtaking novel from a tender author who will come to outline his generation.
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Additional info for Skippy Dies: A Novel
You probably did? ’ ‘Yes, we did, in short. ’ ‘Uh-huh. ’ The Automator scratches his ear, after which roars, ‘God rattling it, Howard, what the hell have been you pondering? Rule one among schooling: by no means go away the youngsters unattended for a moment, no longer for a moment! I particularly advised you, somebody within the room continuously – rattling it, there’s your lawsuit correct there! Flagrant forget of accountability! Flagrant! ’ The vein is again, hammering a tattoo in his temple. ‘I know,’ Howard wheedles, ‘but what occurred used to be, you spot, Aurelie, leave out McIntyre, found a wide volume of alcohol within the bogs, an excessive amount of for her to hold, and we needed to shop it out of harm’s approach, so we in short went to the Geography Room, simply because that appeared like the most secure place…’ ‘And how lengthy have been you in short long gone for, might you are saying? ’ The Automator’s gaze bores into Howard; Howard uplifts his eyes to the ceiling, as though for thought: ‘Um…’ He squeezes them tight close, then half-opens only one. ‘Ten mins? ’ The stare has no longer long past away. ‘Ten mins? ’ chilly sweat breaks out lower than his collar. ‘Roughly that, i might say, definite. ’ The steely eyes slim – after which are prevented. ‘Yes, that’s pretty well what Aurelie stated – Trudy? ’ Trudy leafs via a manila folder: ‘That’s what i've got the following – confiscated alcohol from women’ bathroom, left to shop in Geography Room, long past ten to 12 mins. ’ ‘Although it feels like you and Aurelie have overvalued just a little, simply because Trudy and that i timed it and it takes just below 4 mins for someone jogging at typical velocity to get from the corridor to the Geography Room, and 4 mins again is 8 minutes,’ the Automator reviews. this knowledge, although, and the great fortune of omit McIntyre’s lie corroborating his, are drowned out by way of the point out of her identify. ‘She used to be right here? Aurelie – I suggest, leave out McIntyre? ’ ‘First factor this morning. ’ The Automator wags his head solemnly. ‘Whole factor has shaken her up lovely badly. She’s an funding banker, she’s no longer used to that sort of unbridled depravity. ’ Howard descends right into a non permanent reverie of Aurelie unbridled, naked, at the different aspect of these twelve tumultuous hours, and wonders, on the similar second that his abdominal churns with guilt, simply how he can recross them, come again to her. ‘Let’s name it ten minutes,’ the Automator resumes. ‘Whatever our doper used, it should have packed a heck of a wallop for the consequences to take carry that speedy. A heck of a wallop. ’ He rounds on Howard, who seems to be again with a gesture of helpless imbecility. ‘Well, the lads within the lab could be capable of transparent that up for us. the larger query is, who’s dependable? ’ He selections up a paperweight from his table, approximately the dimensions of a hockey puck and vaguely weapon-like. ‘I imagine we either understand the reply to that one. This has Juster’s fingerprints in every single place it. ’ ‘Juster? ’ Howard wakes unexpectedly from his Aurelie-reverie. ‘You suggest Daniel Juster? ’ ‘You’re darn correct I suggest him, Slippy or Snippy or no matter what he desires to name himself. ’ ‘But what… I suggest, what does he need to do with it?