The image of a GOF-based elementary-school math worksheet fills me with delight. We could even expand it to elementary physics: "The Toronto Man Machine, weighing 6.2 kg, is running east at approximately 25 m/s when Furious Jacob Forsyth, weighing 4.7 kg and running north at 32 m/s, collides with him. Find their final velocity and the direction of their combined motion. Assume a perfectly elastic collision and that neither cat loses mass from the resulting face-ripping."
I had a Physics teacher who used this method to get me interested in the subject. I couldn't give a flying cow over the moon for the stuff until he asked me this question (I'm paraphrasing, it has been a bit of a while):
"Johnny is a football player for his local high school who weighs 250 lbs. He's crossing the road and doesn't look both ways when an 18-wheeler collides with him. If the 18-wheeler weighs 80,000 lbs and is travelling at 75 mph, how far will Johnny be thrown if he's hit head on. Ignore real world applications such as wind speed and drag but account for gravity."
I remember distinctly when he asked this in class and we were supposed to be working it out on our paper in front of us. My eyes sparkled. Finally I got to run over a football player in my dreams FOR CREDIT.
I raised my hand hurriedly.
"Yes Mr. Q (only my real last name, not Q)?"
"Are we to assume he stays in one piece or should we calculate per organ the distance each would fly based upon mass and proximity to site of impact?"
He looked at me and said, "You're an odd duck Mr. Q; let's just assume he stays in one piece okay?"
Thank you Mr. Calcaterra if you ever run across this; you made me enjoy math. (Though it didn't make me any better at it, I appreciate it.)