A non-stop marathon is the shared favourite sport of three brothers.

*The oldest one is fat and short and trudges slowly on.
*The middle brother's tall and slim and keeps a steady pace.
*The youngest runs just like the wind, speeding through the race.

"He is young in years, we let him run!" the other two brothers explained, "'because though he is surely number one, he is second, in a way." Why is it?

We are a group of eight brothers. We consider the weak, yet we protect the king in every battle. If we move ahead, we never turn back. Who are we?

With pointed fangs I sit and wait; with piercing force I crunch out fate; grabbing victims, proclaiming might; physically joining with a single bite. What am I?

Can it be possible to build a house that has all its four walls facing towards the South?

Only one colour, but not one size,
Stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies.
Present in sun, but not in rain,
Doing no harm, and feeling no pain.
What is it?

I travel all around the world but always stay in the corner. What am I?

There's one "sport" in which neither the spectators nor the participants know the score or the leader until the contest ends.

What is it?

People make me, save me, change me, raise me. What am I?

The person who makes it has no need for it; the person who buys it has no use for it. The person who uses it can neither see nor feel it. What is it?

I have lakes with no water, mountains with no stone and cities with no buildings. What am I?