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It starts in 1486 with the royal committee that advised the king and queen of Spain not to fund a numskull named Christopher Columbus.

I was 22, an age-appropriate numskull, spending a Christmas holiday backpacking through Greece with friends.

“Can’t you see the ice is melting already?” a cop asks, incredulously, of a couple of numskulls who recently lost their vehicle, having narrowly escaped by swimming out the hatchback.

Interimbecile: The fill-in numskull who botches things up until a permanent idiot can be found to ruin everything.

“One or two numskulls can destroy the whole movement.”