Laughing Numbers

I am sat here doing something I am very muchly so good at: procrastination.

You see, currently staring me right in the face is my maths homework. Part of the 'intermediate' Mathematical Challenge of 2007.

The focus here being the word 'intermediate.'

Intermediate. 


Now I've never been a mathematical whiz, but I confess to be at a total loss for what to do. Questions 1, 2 3 and 4- done. Question 5- partly done because I was caught in the sticky ethical dilemma of whether or not calculators are permitted on this thing. I presume I'll give up eventually and go for yes, calculators are allowed- because I'm not big on my 1234 times tables.

Feeling slightly confident, I press on to number 5.

The sum of 9 consecutive positive whole numbers is 2007. What is the difference between the largest and the smallest of these numbers?
A: 8 B: 9 C: 10 D: 18 E: 223


I've got a one in five chance of getting this right. It's make or break time. Which number will be lucky? I finished my cup of tea and I've got numbers staring me in the face. I can see them just laughing at me. And the mathematical academics too- laughing (I always picture them with graduation caps on, although I'm fully aware those aren't reserved purely for mathematicians).

And then it hits me. And suddenly, I'm giggling nervously and blushing as the imaginary board of pretentious maths geniuses watch me have a revelation. It's not maths it's common sense. The 2007 was a ploy, put there to confuse me. But the answer's 8! I feel smart! I feel powerful! I feel guilty for using my calculator on questions 5 and 7! Nothing can stop me now!




8. The mean of three numbers x, y and z is x. What is the mean of y and z? 
A: 1/2 x B: x C: 2x D: 3x E: 4x


Oh, come on!