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Quiz about Things Ive Stepped In
Quiz about Things Ive Stepped In

Things I've Stepped In Trivia Quiz


You're innocently walking along, when suddenly you feel that tell-tale squelch, slip, or crunch. We've all stepped in gum, or poop, or dead things, but here are some more unusual things various people have stepped in, and they're not even all gross!

A multiple-choice quiz by ing. Estimated time: 7 mins.
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Author
ing
Time
7 mins
Type
Multiple Choice
Quiz #
313,766
Updated
Dec 03 21
# Qns
10
Difficulty
Average
Avg Score
6 / 10
Plays
3708
Awards
Editor's Choice
Last 3 plays: Lord_Digby (10/10), Bernie_b (9/10), Tonyisonit (9/10).
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Question 1 of 10
1. It is January 15, 1919, and I live in Boston, Massachusetts. Some weird noises have been coming from up at the Purity Distilling Company today, lots of banging and tapping of metal on metal. Hang on, there's a guy running down the street, looking back over his shoulder like something's chasing him. "The tank's burst!" I hear him yell, as I open the door and go into the street. Ick, what's this sticky stuff I've just stepped in? Hint


Question 2 of 10
2. I am walking with my mother on a grassland near her home - it is winter, raining a little, and very windy. I am some way ahead, and don't hear clearly when my mother shouts out something to me. I look back and ask her to say again, and she replies 'be careful, the ground is really uneven around here", as I dutifully step into a hole. I feel my foot twist inwards, and a kind of 'ping' on the outside of my ankle. As I sit on the frozen ground I think "this is really bad, it must be a full-on sprain, breaks aren't meant to hurt this much. I mean, it's not like there are nerves in bone, are there?" Hint


Question 3 of 10
3. I am Kenneth Branagh, but I'm in a movie, playing Andrew Benson. I've made it big in the US with a sitcom I write with my American wife, but I've come back to England for Christmas to see some old friends. I'm looking over the play I was writing with one of them before I moved away - he's played by Stephen Fry - and I say "That's still a good joke [...] I've never fallen in love. I've stepped in it a few times." What movie am I in? Hint


Question 4 of 10
4. I am an adolescent boy, I live in Athens, in a time I have a strange premonition will someday be referred to as "Ancient Greece". I've been told by some of the guys hanging around the future ruins that if you want some, you know, company, you just have to look for the tracks left by the nails in the bottom of women's sandals. If the nails are patterned so they spell something, you know you're on the track of a courtesan...but I'm so nervous, I keep forgetting what to look for...what will the footsteps I should step in spell out? Hint


Question 5 of 10
5. I am a yak, and I've been stuck on this Ark with my good lady-yak wife for longer than my yakish brain can comprehend. It's not only us, there's a goat couple next to us, a pair of camels on their other side, and the sheep beyond them - and that's just the ones I know the names of. As you can imagine there's a fair mess down there - hair, wool, sweat, pee - I'd say the smell was bordering on diabolical if my yakish brain could rise to such lofty descriptive prose. And the worst of it is, we're walking around in it all! Still, Noah - the guy that's supposedly running this zoo - says that "once the waters have receded and we can once more walk upon dry land" - he talks like that - he'll go around and collect the fibrous, matted fabric we have produced, and he shall call it...oi, camel, what was he going to call it again? Hint


Question 6 of 10
6. I am an Australian Track Cyclist, and I am on the starting line for the 1000m time trial. It is the 1996 Olympics, and I am the favourite for the event, having won the silver in 1992. The clock is counting down, I've got my feet locked in toe-clips to the pedals, my entire being is concentrated on making a perfect start. The gun's gone, I'm off...but why's my foot flying away from my bike? Oh no, I can't believe it, I've pulled my shoe out of the toe-clip, I'm not even going to get through the first round, let alone win the gold...I'm so distraught right now I can't even remember my own name. Help me what is it? Hint


Question 7 of 10
7. I am Loretta Lynn, you might know me from such country music smash hits "One's on the Way", "Coalminer's Daughter" and "Don't Come Home A'Drinkin (With Lovin' on Your Mind)". You might not be so familiar with the song I released on my "Your Squaw is on the Warpath" album in 1968 called "You've Just Stepped In", but I'll bet you know where that low-down, no-good man of mine has just stepped in from, right? I"ll start it: "You've just stepped in from..." now you carry on... Hint


Question 8 of 10
8. My name is Edwin Clayhanger and I live in the English Midlands. It is July 1872, I am 16 years old; yesterday I went to school for the last time, and forever put away childish things. Tonight I am in an alien world - a tavern, full of men - and, oh, wonder of wonders, a woman is performing a dance! A "pretty, doll-like woman, if inclined to amplitude", she wears a short skirt, which she occasionally flicks up with her fingers as she dances, and she has - heavens! - bare arms. She is the most alluring creature I have ever seen, champion in her art, but the most amazing thing about her is her shoes. They are work-shoes, they are practical, not beautiful shoes, yet here before me this woman steps out. What can be the name of the art in which she shines so brightly? Hint


Question 9 of 10
9. I am an English fuller, and it is around 1580 (you know how bad we peasant-types are with dates). People say times are harsh, but at least I've got a steady job, even if it is incredibly hard work, and just a tiny bit disgusting. Most days I spend my time stomping about barefoot in a tub, sloshing pieces of raw wool through a liquid 'wash'. I could tell you what we call the wash, but I can never remember what the toffs call the stuff - you know how bad we peasant-types are with 'proper' language. Ooh, come on, what's it called? Hint


Question 10 of 10
10. My name is Harry; they tell me I'm a dog. I've been hunting a mouse through the kitchen, but now dad's put down one of those sticky cardboard glue traps. Gees, I know mice are pretty dumb, but are they really stupid enough to walk into one of...ugh, there's something on my foot! I know, if I look up at mum plaintively she'll know what to do...maybe I'll even whimper a little, yeah...ah, here she comes, but what's that she's going to use to get the stupid thing off me? Hint



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Quiz Answer Key and Fun Facts
1. It is January 15, 1919, and I live in Boston, Massachusetts. Some weird noises have been coming from up at the Purity Distilling Company today, lots of banging and tapping of metal on metal. Hang on, there's a guy running down the street, looking back over his shoulder like something's chasing him. "The tank's burst!" I hear him yell, as I open the door and go into the street. Ick, what's this sticky stuff I've just stepped in?

Answer: Molasses

But the old saying goes "slow as molasses in January", so how much harm could even 2.5 million gallons (nearly 9.5 million litres) do? Well, quite a bit, seeing as the flow was also carrying pieces of the enormous storage tank it had just breached with it - the noises our Boston resident had heard were the pinging of bursting rivets and the buckling of the sides of the tank. Also, in one of those 'truth is stranger than fiction' moments, it happened to be an unusually warm day for January - around 40° F (4°C) - meaning that the flow travelled at around 35mph (56kph).

The flow, peaking at 15' (around 4.5m) in height, knocked buildings off their foundations, swept away horses, carts and trolley-cars, and killed 21 people. In settling one of the first class action suits in Massachusetts history, the Purity Distilling Company paid out US $1 million (equivalent to around US $100 million in 2009).

The cause of the disaster was never established definitively, but there was speculation that Purity - which used molasses as part of its alcohol manufacturing process, but also made confectionery - had simply over-filled the tank, or that the unusual temperature had caused the molasses to start to ferment and thus expand.
2. I am walking with my mother on a grassland near her home - it is winter, raining a little, and very windy. I am some way ahead, and don't hear clearly when my mother shouts out something to me. I look back and ask her to say again, and she replies 'be careful, the ground is really uneven around here", as I dutifully step into a hole. I feel my foot twist inwards, and a kind of 'ping' on the outside of my ankle. As I sit on the frozen ground I think "this is really bad, it must be a full-on sprain, breaks aren't meant to hurt this much. I mean, it's not like there are nerves in bone, are there?"

Answer: You bet your sweet bibby there are!

A rather harsh way to learn Biology that I probably should have become acquainted with in high school, I think, but nobody ever said life was fair. It took several x-rays and an MRI investigation to determine that I had partially detached my calceneo-fibular ligament from my lateral malleolus (the lumpy bit on the outside of the ankle), pulling off small chips of bone with it. Again, I would have been quite happy to go through life never knowing I even had a lateral malleolus, let alone a calceneo-fibular ligament (or indeed two of each!) Still, I find it interesting that, while the level of damage to my ligaments ranked it only a Grade II Sprain (Grade I being relatively minor, Grade III involving total ligament detachment), the damage to the bone meant that technically I had actually broken my ankle.

My apologies to anyone who has suffered a similar injury and feels discomfort after reading the above - my ankle is killing me after writing it! I just keep repeating to myself that personal pain should be as nothing when it is felt in the name of Trivia...
3. I am Kenneth Branagh, but I'm in a movie, playing Andrew Benson. I've made it big in the US with a sitcom I write with my American wife, but I've come back to England for Christmas to see some old friends. I'm looking over the play I was writing with one of them before I moved away - he's played by Stephen Fry - and I say "That's still a good joke [...] I've never fallen in love. I've stepped in it a few times." What movie am I in?

Answer: Peter's Friends

"Peter's Friends" (1992) was written by American comic actress Rita Rudner, and her husband Martin Bergmann. Branagh directed, and both he and Rudner were part of the ensemble cast, which also included Fry, Emma Thompson, Hugh Laurie, Imelda Staunton, Alphonsia Emmanuel and Phyllida Law. The film is much like "The Big Chill" (1983) in that it explores the relationships of a group of University friends coming together after years of separation. Whereas "The Big Chill" featured an ultra-funky sixties soundtrack, "Peter's Friends" does remarkably well with music from the eighties.

Rudner has also used the line about 'stepping in love' in her stand-up work; the incorrect answers are all Branagh films.
4. I am an adolescent boy, I live in Athens, in a time I have a strange premonition will someday be referred to as "Ancient Greece". I've been told by some of the guys hanging around the future ruins that if you want some, you know, company, you just have to look for the tracks left by the nails in the bottom of women's sandals. If the nails are patterned so they spell something, you know you're on the track of a courtesan...but I'm so nervous, I keep forgetting what to look for...what will the footsteps I should step in spell out?

Answer: "Follow me"

I'm guessing, however, the courtesans' sandals spelled out "follow me" in Greek; Ancient Greek even! It's a pretty neat trick, much more subtle than standing on a street corner or writing your name on a phone booth wall. It's the kind of thing that 'nice' people could pretend they didn't see if they were offended by such things; lastly, how easy to hide the evidence!

It's possible this whole thing is a misconception, but if it is, it's certainly a common one. I have found the information in various sources (including at least one real-life paper and ink book!) but nowhere can I find more information than just the bare assertion that it happened. I'd like to believe it's true, but then maybe I'm just a romantic at heart!
5. I am a yak, and I've been stuck on this Ark with my good lady-yak wife for longer than my yakish brain can comprehend. It's not only us, there's a goat couple next to us, a pair of camels on their other side, and the sheep beyond them - and that's just the ones I know the names of. As you can imagine there's a fair mess down there - hair, wool, sweat, pee - I'd say the smell was bordering on diabolical if my yakish brain could rise to such lofty descriptive prose. And the worst of it is, we're walking around in it all! Still, Noah - the guy that's supposedly running this zoo - says that "once the waters have receded and we can once more walk upon dry land" - he talks like that - he'll go around and collect the fibrous, matted fabric we have produced, and he shall call it...oi, camel, what was he going to call it again?

Answer: Felt

The Noah's Ark version is just one of many claims for the origin of felt, but sources are agreed it was one of the first fabrics produced by man, if not actually the first. All of the rival stories involve animal hair of some type being placed in shoes or sandals for comfort, then being matted with sweat and - after a long journey of some kind - being found to have formed nice little foot-shaped pieces of felt. Characters cast in the role of "Father of Fuzz" include various Middle Eastern merchants - who lined their shoes with nice, soft camel hair while trekking trading routes - the mythical Sumerian warrior Urnamman - who undoubtedly didn't want to go off being a hero all over the place without a few little comforts - and not one but two Catholic Saints - St James and St Clement - both of whom were said to suffer from sore feet whilst fleeing various persecutors and so resort to shoving wool into their sandals.

The nice twist with the Saints is that they are both claimed, in different countries, to be the Patron Saint of Milliners - that is to say, they watch over Mad Hatters!
6. I am an Australian Track Cyclist, and I am on the starting line for the 1000m time trial. It is the 1996 Olympics, and I am the favourite for the event, having won the silver in 1992. The clock is counting down, I've got my feet locked in toe-clips to the pedals, my entire being is concentrated on making a perfect start. The gun's gone, I'm off...but why's my foot flying away from my bike? Oh no, I can't believe it, I've pulled my shoe out of the toe-clip, I'm not even going to get through the first round, let alone win the gold...I'm so distraught right now I can't even remember my own name. Help me what is it?

Answer: Shane Kelly

Kelly (b1972) went into the event as not only the hot favourite, but as the reigning World Champion and World Record holder. I remember watching the event 'live' from Atlanta, and seeing the pain and horror on his face after his foot slipped and his 'dream shattered' (it might not have been a great moment for Kelly, but that kind of thing is pure gold for commentators just itching to break out their clichés. Although I must say, the guys in the booth were pretty close to tears themselves at the time, at least one being a former teammate). According to all reports, however, even in his disappointment Kelly was a true sportsman, blamed only himself for the error, and was the first to congratulate the eventual winner.

Kelly went on the win the bronze medal in the same event at the Sydney Olympics in 2000, then, with the looming cutting of the 1000m from the Olympic program, he started riding the Keirin event; at the 2004 Athens Olympics he placed 4th in the 1000m, and won the bronze in the Keirin. At the 2008 Games in Beijing, Kelly finished 4th in the Keirin.

All the incorrect answers are also Australian cyclists: Cadel Evans (b1977) finished 2nd in the Tour de France in both 2007 and 2008; Phil Anderson (b1958) was the first non-European cyclist to wear the fabled Yellow Jersey ('Maillot jaune') as leader of the Tour de France in 1981; and Michael Rogers (b1979) is also a successful Tour de France and Olympic track cyclist.
7. I am Loretta Lynn, you might know me from such country music smash hits "One's on the Way", "Coalminer's Daughter" and "Don't Come Home A'Drinkin (With Lovin' on Your Mind)". You might not be so familiar with the song I released on my "Your Squaw is on the Warpath" album in 1968 called "You've Just Stepped In", but I'll bet you know where that low-down, no-good man of mine has just stepped in from, right? I"ll start it: "You've just stepped in from..." now you carry on...

Answer: "...steppin' out on me"

Loretta Lynn (b Loretta Webb in Kentucky, 1935) was destined to be a star of some sort, having been named after American film actress Loretta Young (1913-2000). After a string of minor successes throughout the early 1960s, Lynn had her first number one in America in 1967 with the brilliantly titled and evocative "Don't Come Home A'Drinkin' (With Lovin' on Your Mind)". She had another number one early the next year with "Fist City", and a top ten with another track from the same album - "What Kind of Girl (Do You Think I Am)" - later in 1968. Ever the queen of bracketed titles, "You've Just Stepped In (From Steppin' Out on Me)" went top five, also in 1968.

What I don't know about country music could fill many large books (and no doubt has, I just haven't read any of them), but I was still surprised to learn that Loretta Lynn's youngest sister is another country singer I've actually heard of, namely Crystal Gale (b1951).
8. My name is Edwin Clayhanger and I live in the English Midlands. It is July 1872, I am 16 years old; yesterday I went to school for the last time, and forever put away childish things. Tonight I am in an alien world - a tavern, full of men - and, oh, wonder of wonders, a woman is performing a dance! A "pretty, doll-like woman, if inclined to amplitude", she wears a short skirt, which she occasionally flicks up with her fingers as she dances, and she has - heavens! - bare arms. She is the most alluring creature I have ever seen, champion in her art, but the most amazing thing about her is her shoes. They are work-shoes, they are practical, not beautiful shoes, yet here before me this woman steps out. What can be the name of the art in which she shines so brightly?

Answer: Clog-Dancing

"Clayhanger" was written by English novelist Arnold Bennett (1867-1931) in 1910. It is one of a number of books he wrote around the fictional 'Five Towns', a none-too-subtle representation of his native Six Towns - or 'the Potteries' - in Staffordshire. "Clayhanger" is essentially the 'coming-of-age' story of Edwin, who, as the son of a successful, respected but aloof printer, is expected to take over the family business. But he yearns for 'finer things', and has somehow conceived a burning desire to become an architect.

The story opens on Edwin's last day of school, and on the following night we follow him to the local tavern on simple business for his father, where we find him falling under the spell of unlikely enchantress "Miss Florence Simcox [...] the champion female clog-dancer of the Midlands". Bennett turns the humble clog into a lyrical figure as unexpected as Florence herself:

"The clog, the very emblem of the servitude and the squalor of brutalized populations, was changed, on the light feet of this favourite, into the medium of grace. Few of these men but at some time of their lives had worn the clog, had clattered in it through winter's slush, and through the freezing darkness before dawn, to the manufactory and the mill and the mine, whence after a day of labour under discipline more than military, they had clattered back to their little candle-lighted homes [...] The clog meant images of misery and disgust. Yet on those feet that had never worn it seriously, it became the magic instrument of pleasure, waking dulled wits and forgotten aspirations, putting upon everybody an enchantment...And then, suddenly, the dancer threw up one foot as high as her head and brought two clogs down together like a double mallet on the board, and stood still. It was over."
9. I am an English fuller, and it is around 1580 (you know how bad we peasant-types are with dates). People say times are harsh, but at least I've got a steady job, even if it is incredibly hard work, and just a tiny bit disgusting. Most days I spend my time stomping about barefoot in a tub, sloshing pieces of raw wool through a liquid 'wash'. I could tell you what we call the wash, but I can never remember what the toffs call the stuff - you know how bad we peasant-types are with 'proper' language. Ooh, come on, what's it called?

Answer: Urine

We moderns think we have such a monopoly on recycling and reusing, but in that nebulous time known as 'the Middle Ages', people even saved their wee. Oh yes, the valuable contents of the po were saved and used by fullers to remove the grease from wool to make it easier to spin. Fullers were also known as felters for their association with the material - what is it with felt and urine? - or walkers, for obvious reasons. Urine was also used as a form of lye, or soap, in everyday washing, especially for linens. In this guise, humble wee was known as 'chamber lye' or - somewhat more poetically - as 'chaymerly'.

Counterintuitive as it may seem to use urine as a cleanser, the part that I find particularly odd is that it was also used as a main ingredient in dye. According to a report of a talk - 'Pee, Piddle and Whiz' - given to the Handweavers' Guild of America at their conference in 2000, "urine is...pH neutral and sterile, which is more than you can say for your water supply". Apparently its use as a dye was so commonplace that it wasn't even mentioned in most recipes.

There is also a difference in the properties of fresh urine, and stale urine - of course. The way I understand it, the longer you let it sit, the more the ammonia content is concentrated, hence only stale wee was used for washing wool and household linens. Did I mention that part? The urine had usually been sitting for at least three weeks before being used by hapless fullers and laundry-maids. A charming - but quite possibly apocryphal - story has men on the Shetland Isles, on their way home from the pub, stopping by to 'donate' to a large vat kept for the purpose outside the local dyer's house. And I thought my neighbours were annoying...
10. My name is Harry; they tell me I'm a dog. I've been hunting a mouse through the kitchen, but now dad's put down one of those sticky cardboard glue traps. Gees, I know mice are pretty dumb, but are they really stupid enough to walk into one of...ugh, there's something on my foot! I know, if I look up at mum plaintively she'll know what to do...maybe I'll even whimper a little, yeah...ah, here she comes, but what's that she's going to use to get the stupid thing off me?

Answer: Vegetable oil

And, of course, once I'd stopped laughing, I did indeed remove the trap from Harry's foot with the recommended vegetable oil. Naturally, once free he sprang straight back into the fray, giving me no time to remove the remover. Once again I could only collapse in fits of giggles as he took off across the lino, slipped on his oily paw, and ended up sprawled on the floor - and it was even funnier the second time he did it! After that he fixed me with another pathetic look, and allowed me to wipe off the offending oil.

Meanwhile, the mouse had actually gone into the trap, and Harry's dad was using the oil to free it. Personally I am not a fan of mice, and might even have managed to do what the 'humane' trap manufacturers suggested, i.e., put the trap, mouse and all, out with the rubbish, and let the thing starve. No, you're right, I couldn't do that; I could never get close enough to a mouse to put it in a bin! So that night, because it was 'too cold to take it down to the river to release it when it was all wet and stuff', the mouse - oiled, shampooed and wrapped in a nice soft cloth - slept in a box in the kitchen (which Harry did not take kindly to at all, and neither did I!) Next morning, dad steeled himself to break it to the mouse that he was going to have to take it to the river, opened the box, and surprise surprise, the mouse jumped straight out and ran behind the fridge.

A few days later, dad found a dead mouse in one of his shoes, and knew it was the same one because he 'could still smell the shampoo on it'...luckily it wasn't in one of my shoes, as I imagine I would still be in therapy (for that, I mean!) Sadly, Harry became another statistic - the child of a broken home - but, after a difficult adolescence, he finally got a great new step-mum, and even siblings!
Source: Author ing

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