english school los olivos magazine

Our school celebrated the International Day of Children’s Rights with representatives of the NGO, Amnesty International. On 18th November, the whole school participated in the production of a promotional video for the Amnesty website.

Everyone from nursery to Year 13, including all teachers, catering staff, caretakers, cleaners and admin staff took part in an amazing variety of activities around school during the day. We all feel proud to be part of a celebration that promotes the rights of children around the world wherever justice, fairness, freedom and truth are denied.

More photos on page 2

LOS OLIVOS SECONDARY MAGAZINE

Dolor

December 2011

Inside

Amnesty International celebrate 50th Anniversary at Los Olivos

• Hero Teacher saves Y7 student

• Halloween Celebration

• Short Story, Drama and Poetry

• Interviews

• Students of the Future

• Books for Christmas

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English School Los Olivos MAGAZINE DECEMBER 2011

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International Day of Children’s Rights English School Los Olivos – November 2011

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Los Olivos MAGAZINE December 2011

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We live in a world in which education is a tool that we simply cannot forget. The crux of this article is to show how far education is going to evolve. The importance of a good knowledge base is revealed by several scientific studies which show that job characteristics such as salary, job quality… will be affected by the kind of education we have had. Of course, this will depend on the attention children receive from their parents. This is the reason why I would like to transmit this importance to parents like you and me who only have the desire to see their children become successful in life. Can you imagine what future schools will be like? Neither can I. Sincerely, already when I was seven or eight years old, I really believed that technology could evolve no more. So much has changed since we were born that we simply cannot predict how much further things are going to change. During the past few decades we have seen a shift of industrial work to information technology work. However, it is natural to consider that some nations have been more successful than others. The American high school today stands at the center of an intensifying polarity. Powerful political and educational forces in most states are pushing hard for the development of common standards for high school graduation for all students, regardless of their cultural heritage or interests. This is why the United States graduates yearly 70,000 engineers and this is why America invests over 2.6 % of money in improving education each year. In my opinion, America has an extremely high education quality, much more than China or India. Most countries tend to look to American educational systems to figure out how to get their children to think… Over the past twenty years, information technology has transformed the society in which we live. It seems that, almost overnight, computers and internet have influenced every aspect of life, including how our youth is educated-‐ Technology is bringing in new ways of learning and giving the children of today new opportunities, but at the same time technology is widening the gap between different communities. The emphasis in future education will be on multi-‐media, but I think the role of the teacher will continue, as a computer is useless without someone telling you how to use it. Universities and schools will eventually have lots of innovative ideas to apply new technologies to education. In jobs, it is natural to consider that more people will work at home and this will change our lifestyles. Another point of matter is actually applying new technologies to classrooms, which can increase the quality of teaching. Especially teacher I think must buy into the concept that technology is useful. In order for teachers to buy that argument, they must first have some understanding of computers, which most school teachers lack to a great extent. Though blaming the teacher will not help the situation. Teachers are willing, but are not supported in their effort. To conclude, I must say that the base of future education will keep relying on parent involvements, which are important representing figures when looking to children. So, what do you want your children’s education to be like? You choose. “I like a teacher who gives you something to take home to think besides homework” Edith Anna

How will Education change in the future? By Andrés Martínez

We asked Year 12 what they thought the future of education held for the next generation of students.

The incredible advances in technology will undoubtedly transform the way we teach and learn.

So will we still need teachers and how will we be studying in the next 20 years?

Andrés Martínez reports

EDUCATION

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Christmas Books Choose One of The Los Olivos Top Books for Christmas: When it comes to buying a book as a Christmas present it can be a difficult decision but with our list of the Los Olivos Top Books for Christmas it will hopefully be a little easier! If you find yourself stuck for the perfect Christmas gift idea this year, then a book from our Top Book List is bound to go down well with your friends and family. The Los Olivos XMAS Top 10: 1. Diary of a Wimpy Kid – Jeff Kinney 2. Inheritance – Christopher Paolini 3. Steampunk! - 4. People’s Republic – Robert Muchamore 5. Kissed by an Angel – Elizabeth Chandler 6. Monsters of Men – Patrick Ness 7. Hunted – Sophie Mackenzie 8. Plague – Michael Grant 9. Boys Don’t Cry – Malorie Blackman 10. You against Me – Jenny Downham

ENJOY XMAS READING!!!!!!!!!!!

Hero Teacher Saves Student Andy Highlights Life-‐Saving Skills in Room 1 Drama.

Geography lessons at Los Olivos don’t normally require emergency first aid !!!

Super Hero, Maths teacher Andy Lofthouse with Jaime Ferrer By Sara Copoví and Inés Crespo

It all began at 9.15 on 6th October in a normal geography class. Jaime Ferrer, Year 7, was dramatically given emergency first aid by his super hero teacher, Andy Lofthouse. Andy asked us all to highlight some words and Jaime decided he couldn’t take the top off so he foolishly used his mouth. BIG MISTAKE! He swallowed the highlighter top. Panic filled the room, but quick thinking Andy came to the rescue as he calmly took Jaime to the corridor to help him. Our hero teacher commented: “I was very scared because I thought Jaime was going to die. After I saved his life I felt very relieved.” A very grateful Jaime said: “He just grabbed my back and it popped out with a bit of vomit!” Since then Jaime has thrown all his highlighters away and now he just underlines words instead.

Is Andy Clark Kent?

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HALLOWEEN 2011!!!

Another frighteningly fun afternoon with Y7-10 and a lot of very

scary teachers!!!

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RISING STARS Each issue we will feature a Los Olivos Rising Star. This time it’s the turn of Kalle Björklund in Year 8.

Los Olivos School Magazine: How many years have you been playing football? Kalle Björklund: I have played football for seven years. LOSM: In which teams have you played? KB: I have played in Claregate School, Godella C.F and Valencia C.F LOSM: Does your father help you when you train? Does he give you advice? KB: Yes, he helps me saying what things I have to do in the training and after the training he says the corrections I have to do. LOSM: How many days do you train? KB: I train three days if we have a match away and four days if we have the match home. LOSM: What do you feel when you score a goal? KB: I feel very good because it makes me feel in the top of the world. LOSM: Do you plan being a professional football player or study another career? KB: I’m planning being a professional football player. LOSM: At the end of the week do you have time to do all your homework and play with friends? KB: I usually have time to do all my homework but I usually don’t have time to play with my friends. LOSM: Can you describe how you felt when you were flying to Qatar? KB: I felt very nervous because I heard that the team we were going to play against was one of the best teams in Asia and also because Qatar is far away from home. LOSM: Do you remember how did you decide to start playing football? KB: Well… When I lived in England I didn’t have any hobby so then my dad said to have something to do after school so I decided to play football. LOSM: Did you start playing as a hobby and then decided to be professional? KB: Yes because when I started laying in England the football was not so serious but then when I lived in Spain it started to get more serious until now, when I am training to be a professional. LOSM: do you sometimes play against your father to practice? KB: sometimes but my dad says to me all the techniques I have to do and he also tells me special activities to be stronger and faster such as doing sit-ups, push-ups and jogging a long distance.

Kalle Björklund, aged 12, is right now one of the most talented young footballers in Valencia C.F. His father, Joachim Bjorklünd was born in Sweden and for many years he was a successful midfielder in the Swedish national team. Today, he is an influence on this Los Olivos rising star. Aleida Mellado meets this talented youngster in an interview for the Los Olivos Magazine.

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teacherbook Each issue of Los Olivos Magazine we will feature a teacher in our very own teacherbook page. This month we interviewed the new German teacher, Mireia Ferrandis. Year 8’s Kelly Orta and Nora Solaz asked the questions.

Name: Mireia Ferrandis The Person you Most Admire: My parents Your most embarrassing moment: Last week when a boy came to say hello and I didn’t know who he was but he told me he was my friend!!! Your first impressions of English School Los Olivos: I think this school is a great place to be a s a student and a teacher. Your worst nightmare: To be eight years old again and have Paco as my Spanish teacher!!! Favourite music: Radiohead Favourite subject at school: Spanish with Paco – honestly! Favourite food: Pizza Favourite animal: Dog The place of your dreams: Mexico and Ballestrand, Norway Favourite colour: Red Hobbies: sewing, reading, cinema, having fun with friends, eating Ambition as a child: I always wanted to be a writer

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This issue’s winner of the Short Story Competition is Paula Marqués of Year 10 – a powerful, moving account of a young boy’s dilemma.

Choices by Paula Marqués Y10

. It didn’t comfort him. It just added to all of the pressure he already carried on his shoulders. His gaze fell on his feet again, as his mother’s nervousness just increased. “Come on, sweetie, you can do it. It’s easy. Me...or him” She added bitterly giving a brief look at the withered man she used to love. He stared up to her. He saw some hope in her eyes. But he also saw helplessness. She was sad. Her mistake had blown up on her face like a grenade. He saw the faded lines on her face, desperately hidden with make up. She wasn’t fooling anybody. Not even her small child.

The three of them awkwardly stood there, on the train platform. It certainly was an uncomfortable situation. The wind silently blew golden leaves away. An elder woman seemed to stare at them, but her gaze was so lost, you really couldn’t tell. There wasn’t a lot of movement in the train station, a big storm approached, and people didn’t like getting out of their houses in these situations. The wind rustled through the forest nearby, the tall thick trees dancing in the sunset, as the gray and black clouds wandered above. It could’ve been a beautiful scene, but the three silhouettes weren’t in the mood for beauty. They weren’t in the mood for anything at all. The middle aged woman tugged at her 9 year old son’s sleeve again. “Have you already made up your mind, darling? The train Mommy has to leave in will get here in no time.” The young boy stared up at the panels. The train would indeed be there soon. He wondered how could his parents make him choose. In his mind, this whole situation didn’t make sense. It refused to make sense. There wasn’t Mommy without Daddy, or Daddy without Mommy. . It was completely ridiculous. He closed his eyes tightly until he could only see red, but when he opened them, they were still standing there. He absently felt his father’s exhausted hand on his shoulder.

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Right now she was a pathetic excuse for a person, he thought. He didn’t think it was fair she was sad. As far as he knew, this was her fault. If she had really cared for him and Dad, she would’ve thought twice before being with another man behind their backs. She had made her choice. If she had chosen right he wouldn’t have to be choosing now. Besides, grandma always said a child needs to be with his mother and his father. But it didn’t seem like they had listened to her. No, if they had they wouldn’t be here. Why had Mom to leave to somewhere so far away? She was selfish sometimes. Selfish to Dad and to him. This wasn’t easy. What was she even talking about? This was anything but easy. The hardest choices he had made in life consisted of toys for Christmas. Of the shade of blue for his bedroom walls. Of what his mother should cook for his birthday. He switched his look to his father. He hadn’t looked at him since the silent car ride. He hadn’t said a word, while his mother had been talking nonstop about irrelevant this, as if to ease the pressure in the air. He looked defeated. His state was thousands, no, billions times

Maybe it was because he didn’t wear make up…Or maybe it was because he did feel a lot worse. It wouldn’t surprise him. He was the betrayed one after all. His eyes…They looked weak and old, as if they belonged to a dissatisfied, sad man that had given up on everything. He was strung out on love. The bags under his eyes reached the floor, and his tangled and greasy hair stuck out in all angles, as if it hadn’t seen a hairbrush or a shower in its life.

As his mother had forced herself to look as perfect and flawless as ever, he just didn’t care. You could see this on both their faces, outfits…everything. His frayed old coat hung loosely and carelessly on his shoulders, a mirror to the man wearing it. She wore a matching purple jacket and skirt, a white blouse, thighs and high heels. Everything cleaned and ironed to perfection. He made an inhuman effort to smile at his son, but it turned out all twisted and wrong. He gave up and whispered he was sorry. And the boy knew he felt it. He knew his father honestly wished both their lives hadn’t been so terribly affected by his mother’s thoughtless actions. Anyone with a heart would wish this hadn’t happened. It had been her fault, and now they were suffering the consequences, he kept thinking. When one of his best friends had cheated on some card game they were playing he felt betrayed.

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. Now he knew that was nothing compared to how betrayed he felt now. And it was because of his mother. His own mother! He really didn’t understand how this had happened. And now- The almost soothing sound of the train gradually got louder and closer, and he gazed towards the railing lazily. The creases on his father’s face deepened and his mother decided to focus her anxiousness on her perfect and untouched polished nails. “Honey, I don’t want to pressure you, but that’s my train you’re hearing-“ “For Christ’s sake, leave the kid alone’’ The father frowned. “He’ll do what he has to do” Every single sound of the train approaching gradually built up tension until it was practically unbearable. And then suddenly it was there. The moment the three of them had feared so much had finally arrived. His mother stood there, shifting her weight from feet to feet, until she couldn’t stand it, and pulled her son into her arms. He knew she loved him. If she didn’t she would’ve just left. She started sobbing on her confused son’s shoulder, who awkwardly put his short arms around her. “I love you, no matter what happened or what happens, I’ll love you until the day I die”

She pulled away to see her son’s reaction. His face, serious as it had been all this time, nodded. She gave a bittersweet smile and stood up. Then she sighed in defeat as she started to walk away towards the train, assuming the boy had chosen his father. He felt his father’s arm around him. Then he looked up, and Daddy had a funny look in his face. It was as if he was happy he had chosen him, but also sad about Mommy. Then he started picturing life without his mother.

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The grim corridors of the house, the thick dust on the furniture (he was sure Daddy would be too sad to clean), the closed windows…He knew life would be Dad’s reflection. Sad, dirty, quiet, tired… Deep down he knew Dad didn’t want to move on, he was desperately clinging into the life he once had, refusing to accept it was over. He would never come home from work, welcomed by his wife and his son. She would never take off his coat to hang it on the wall. His son would never excitedly tell him about his good grades. He would never smell the freshly baked pie his wife had cooked. And it seemed as if he were punishing himself for it. The boy didn’t want a life of punishment. We only live once, he quoted in his head. Then she looked at his mother, already getting on the train, and pictured life with her. Mom had always been more cheerful, she hid her feelings so others wouldn’t get so upset. He knew she’d make everything look alright, even though it wasn’t. She’d buy a big house, with big windows so everything was bright with the sunlight. She’d paint her room a light shade of lavender, while his walls would be the same shade of blue they had been, to make it feel like home. The living room would be full of pastel colors, everything soft, pleasant to the eye. Perfection in every corner, since Dad wouldn’t be there to mess things up and be unorganized. He didn’t want to live a lie either. He decided he had to choose from a fake happiness or a genuine sadness. He also decided he didn’t know which was worse.

Mom might have been guilty, he thought. But she’s hurt too. And Dad’s sinking, while she’s desperately trying to keep her head above the waves. He didn’t want to sink with Dad, he thought. So he ran. He ran towards his mother’s outstretched hand, while the train was still picking up speed. He ran towards something that was slightly better than worse. He left behind his broken father, who was starting to feel tears welling up behind his eyes, his salvation now beyond his reach. He had nothing left. Everything he had ever loved was now running in the opposite direction. Or so he thought. As for the mother, the hope in her eyes increased. Everything wasn’t lost. Not yet. She shouted at her son to keep running, he was close… very close. And the boy…there was a war taking place in his mind.

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The branches resembled a staircase to the black clouds, which looked thick enough for some one to jump on them, and then swim through the unending violet skies. He rolled through the mud (which was also forbidden, mud stains were IMPOSSIBLE to get off from clothes) as he choked on his own giggles. He was happy. When he was done covering himself in splinters, dirt and joy he started walking towards the lake. The lake was right past the small forest, and he used to sit on a pier nearby with his grandfather, just before he died. Sometimes he went there and talked to him, because he knew the old man was the only person who ever understood him. The lake’s surface was oddly calm, considering the storm taking place. The surface was a thousand shades of darker blue, so you really couldn’t tell where the lake met the sky. He walked down the familiar wasted and moldy wood, as it softly creaked in welcome.

Then he sat down and stared at his feet, and the little fish started moving, as if they had detected a presence. He took a deep breath and stared at the Moon, feeling its gentle glow on his pale face. Then he felt a grin spread across his face, as if his grandfather had cracked one of his old jokes and a brand new feeling took over his heart, mind, body and soul. I’m free.

Was he going to fight for a life that wasn’t good enough for him? He couldn’t live out of his parent’s mistakes. He didn’t want to seat down and watch life pass him by. He didn’t want to be a coward, like his father. He didn’t want to get what he wanted by betraying others, like his mother. He didn’t want to blame his problems on someone else, like both of them did. Because he was better than that. His parents hadn’t learned from their mistakes by he had. It wasn’t in their hands for him to choose from two miserable lives, because he was free. So just when his fingers where centimeters away from his mother’s, he stopped. He didn’t stay to watch her fade away in the distance, or to see his father finally looking up, because his heart was pounding inside his chest, he was alive. And he started running away from the train, away form his shriveled father, away from his broken home and all the memories in it, because he didn’t need it. Not anymore. He found himself in the forest, as the rain started to fall. He loved rain. And now more than ever. He felt it wash his troubles away, all over his skin, refreshing, although it was quite cold. Every lightning stroke life back into him, and thunder cleared his head from the unneeded dullness that had taken over it in the past few weeks. He danced with the trees, and he climbed them, it didn’t matter his parents had forbidden him from doing it, because they weren’t there to fill him up with their sadness.

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LA VISITA Nos encontramos en la Suite principal de un lujoso hotel en pleno centro del bullicioso y exultante Londres de los años 20. Suena el preludio de una famosa ópera italiana. La Sra. Kramer está sentada en un sillón rojo escarlata, absorta en sus pensamientos mientras disfruta de un cigarrillo. Se oye el repiqueteo de la lluvia en las ventanas, frecuente predisposición del clima inglés. A la estancia en la que se encuentra no le falta lujo alguno, con una decoración de una opulencia y suntuosidad digna de Versailles. Sirvienta: Señora... Sra. Kramer: Maria, no le he dicho que no quería que nadie me molestase… es insufrible tu constante manera de importunarme con los asuntos más triviales... ¿Qué ocurre? María: Lo siento señora, es el señor Fielding, que desea verla.. Sra. Kramer: (Levantándose, contrariada) ¡ El señor Fielding! Dígale que en este momento me es completamente imposible recibirle... Dígale que tengo migraña... ¡una migraña atroz! y que he estado en cama todo el día... Maria: Ya le he intentado explicar que usted hoy no le va a recibir, pero el joven es terco como una mula, señora… no se le puede disuadir… él insiste en que es un asunto de suma importancia y que no se irá sin haberla visto antes. Entra Tom Fielding. (Cesa la ópera) Tom: (Agitado) Señora siento interrumpirla de esta forma tan… Sra. Kramer: Agresiva... (Se acerca a una estantería color caoba buscando desesperadamente una botella de ginebra y se prepara una copa dándole la espalda a Tom) (María se marcha) Tom: Osada diría yo… pero es que debo hacerle una confesión que es para mí de vida o muerte… ( La Sra. Kramer, angustiada, se bebe la copa de un trago. Terminada su copa juguetea con un rosario, mientras mantiene una mirada extraviada. El ingente silencio sólo se ve interrumpido por el repiqueteo de la lluvia en las ventanas) Sra. Kramer: No es necesario que me diga nada, Harriet ya me ha puesto al corriente de todo… Tom: ¡Su hija! ¿Ha estado aquí? Sra.Kramer: Sí, ha salido poco antes de su llegada. Ha tenido suerte de no encontrarle aquí, eso la habría horrorizado… Está muy disgustada.. La verdad es que me he sentido muy halagada de que un joven y apuesto como usted se interese por una flor ya insulsa y marchita desde hace mucho tiempo… ¡qué ingenuo es usted! Y pensar en el escándalo que este disparate podría haber ocasionado a la reputación de mi hija, si no llego a ser informada a tiempo... Pero no se alarme le perdonará… ella tiene las únicas dos cosas que importan en esta vida, belleza y juventud pero carece de todas las demás… es demasiado frágil para vivir sin un hombre que la guie... así que acabará haciéndolo...

Futuro Dramaturgo

Quique Fayos de Year 13 nos lleva a Londres de los años 20 con una primera escena de una obra llamada La Visita

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Tom: ¿Perdonarme? Por qué cree que quiero que me perdone.. yo a ella no la amo..la desprecio.. es tan frígida, tan frágil, tan pueril... En cambio contigo todo es distinto… (Se acerca a ella mirándola apasionadamente) Sra. Kramer: (Con la mirada encendida, llena de ira) ¡Necio! ¿Tú qué vas a saber? Aún, eres joven… Yo ,en cambio, he vivido... pasión, dolor, muerte… tu no sientes nada por mí… Nadie nunca lo ha hecho... Te corrompe la obsesión y el deseo, ¡ pero tu egoísmo lo confunde con algo más puro, más bello.. Todos lo hacemos… Cuando tu belleza, tu juventud se van esfumando poco a poco, te vas dando cuenta de que ninguno de los ridículos valores a los que nos aferramos tan patéticamente, la decencia, la felicidad, existen... Cuando pierdes eso ya no te queda nada… sólo remordimientos… (Tom la agarra fuerte; La Sra.Kramer intenta liberarse, pero al verse incapaz se echa a llorar.) Tom: ¿Pero qué te pasa? No entiendo… podríamos fugarnos, tengo algo ahorrado… No tiene por qué enterarse nadie, ni Harriet, ni tu marido... por qué no puedes aceptar que tienes la oportunidad de ser feliz… Sra. Kramer: ¡Oh! crees que mi marido me retiene… (Se estremece; Después alza la mirada, temblorosa; Se echa reír presa de un ataque de ansiedad). La realidad es que no le veo desde hace meses... Le cazó una de esas tarántulas que trabajan en uno de esas sucias y mugrientas cavernas del Soho… Ahora deben de estar de camino de alguna isla paradisiaca en medio del Caribe... ¡Esa es la realidad de mi vida! Le repugno a mi marido... los últimos meses ya ni dormíamos en la misma habitación... La verdad es dolor y sudor, y pagar las facturas, y tener que estar junto a un hombre al que detestas... Si eres joven puedes vivir sin dinero… pero al ir envejeciendo te das cuenta de que eso es lo único que te hace feliz... Mendacidad, eso es de lo que trata la vida… vivir con la apariencia de ser feliz hasta tu muerte… Tom: ¡Oh, por dios! ¿Qué quieres que haga para demostrarte que no miento? ¡Ven aquí y mírame a los ojos cuando te hablo! ( La aprieta contra su pecho sosteniéndole la barbilla). ¡Mírame, te he dicho! Ya estoy harto de tanta desfachatez, te quiero y voy a tenerte... Sra.Kramer: Deseo, todo se basa en el más inmundo y puro deseo... No me puedes reclamar como un cazador reclama a su presa... ¡No soy tuya! ¡No soy de nadie! Ni tuya ni de mi marido, ni de Harriet. Todo el mundo me intenta poseer pero estoy harta! Voy a escapar de esta mugrienta jaula de una vez por todas… Todo está cubierto de mugre, contaminado, corrupto... lo intentan esconder pero sigue ahí debajo de la pulcritud, de la supuesta perfección de la sociedad... ¡Mentiras! y yo ya no aguanto más.. (Se echa al suelo de rodillas, cubriéndose la cara con las manos, gimoteando, exhausta). Tom: ¿Pero que te sucede? ¡Has perdido el juicio? Tienes esa mueca tan horrible en tu cara... esa chispa de rabia y locura en tus ojos... No me mires así, te lo ruego... no lo soporto más... ¡vas a ser mía te guste o no! (La lleva otra vez contra su pecho; forcejean hasta que súbitamente la Sra. Kramer se desvanece, golpeándose la cabeza con la esquina de la mesa. Tom la intenta reanimar pero ha perdido el conocimiento. Sus esfuerzos son inútiles) Tom: (Sollozando, llevándose las manos a la cabeza en un gesto de desesperación). ¿Pero qué he hecho? (Tom se vuelve una última vez hacia el cuerpo que yace inerte en el suelo. Se marcha apresuradamente). FIN

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POESÍA de Borja Gonzalo

Year 12

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Eduard Punset, que fins ara estava fent anuncis per a Bimbo, ha rebut una contraoferta de Panrico. Ha començat una guerra de titans, els 2 magnats del pà nacional. Això ha causat una gran repercusió a tota Espanya. El que al principi no valoravem, està convertint-se en un conflicte intern: els que prefereixen Bimbo contra els que preferiexen Panrico. Panrico ha fitxat Punset per léstrafalària suma de 10.000.000€. Molta gent es pregunta per què. I l´única raó possible és que les vendes de Bimbo han augmentat en un 104,78%. Panrico, gelós de Bimbo, ha decidit contractar Punset per a fer els seus anuncis. Déntrada, Bimbo ja ha perdut un 4% de les seves vendes després dáquesta notícia. Aquesta noticia, pareix molt innocent, però ha causat molts problemes en la família Punset. En realitat, la familia està dividida en 2 parts. La mare de Punset ja l´ha desheredat , i els pares s´han divorciat per les constants baralles que hi havien a casa. Elsa Punset, la germana dÉduard, deixa “El Hormiguero” per a barallar-se amb el seu germà en les files de Bimbo. Eduard diu “Això pot arribar a la violència, però jo no sóc partidari de moviments violents. Si barallarem, Elsa està perduda. És la guerra”. Punset ens mostra la seva cara més conflictiva. Quan preguntarem a Edu, com li diuen els seus amics, ens va contestà “ M´he passat a Panrico perquè, quan estava a casa mirant retícules endoplasmàtiques pel meu microscopi atòmic, vaig probar una llesca de Panrico. Em vaig adonar , de que era un orgasme per a la meua boca. També, em vaig adonar de que aquest pà no es torna dur, no com el de la competencia, que no vull nomenar”. Punset està barallant se a mort per a llevar popularitat a Bimbo. També diu “ Aquest pà és perfect. Et pot servir per al millor entrepà, o per a acompanyar una simple sopar”. Punset, està enfadat amb

Bimbo, i està tractant dínvestigar el seu pà, per a trovar algún defecte que acredite que el seu pà és fraudulent i perillós per a la salut dels ciutadans. Ell diu “Estic pràcticament segur de que aquest pà pot ser usat com arma biologica, però en aquests moments és sols una teoría. Per a posar en pràctica la meua tesi empíricament demostrable, vaig estudiar les retícules endóplasmatiques de “Bimbo”. He trobat un substrat que pot ser radioactiu si es sotmes a certes condicions. Tal fet demostra que aquest pà no es tan natural com deïen, i que pot ser mortal per als humans si és ingerit en grans quantitats. Si McDonalds utilitzara Bimbo en compte de Panrico, ja haurien milions de morts. He decidit que tinc que destruir l´ imperi econòmic de la companyia mes fraudulenta dÉspanya, Bimbo.” Punset vol una venjança per léstafa que Bimbo li feia fa alguns mesos, quan li prometien una quantitat, i després Eduard no veuria ni un cèntim dáquesta suma de diners.

Ara, hi ha moltes companyies interessades en comprar els serveis dÉduard, ja que també te contractes amb Nintendo, i aixó enerva a Sony. Sony ja ha decidit comprar a Punset per 5 millions dèuros, però ara entra el gegant de Microsoft. Ara mateix, Sony i Microsoft estàn lluitant pels seus serveis. Però Eduard diu que si volen que ell col·labore en els anuncis, la suma haura de ser almenys de 15 millions dèuros. A Eduard se l´ha pujat l`èxit al cap o, tal vegada, sap com negociar amb les multinacionals. Hi ha moltes opcions, però Punset ja ha dit que aquesta suma és el mínim pel que treballa, que ell vol prejubilar-se ja. Punset, un erudit que trau diners col·laborant amb les companyies, o un llestet que treballa per a tu i després tàpunyala per lèsquena? Tot depén de quin pà tágrade més, Bimbo o Panrico. Eduard ja ha decidit, ara et toca a tu. Diego Doménec

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