By Ellie Conklin
FAIRFIELD, CT — It’s been a stressful week for junior Andrew Courtney. After hours of pretending to study, while stopping intermittently to watch the World Series highlights and to take hits out of his Snoopy-shaped bong, he completed his twelve-page midterm exam in his 300-level English class, American Internet Poetry in the Depression Age, in record time.
“I worked really, really hard,” Courtney claimed, “but I honestly have no idea how I did.” Speaking with his fellow classmates didn’t ease his mind; many of his fellow students chose different answers than he did.
On Monday, when the test was returned, Courtney found himself in a new predicament: He could not decipher his grade. His professor, Dr. James F. Mendell, 97, is so comfortable in his superior status as an academic that he never learned basic penmanship. When asked about his lack of skills, Mendell scoffed, “That’s a tool for the plebeians.”
The single scribble at the top of Courtney’s paper is completely up for debate. Upon first glance, it resembles an “F,” but some believe the stray lines form a “B.” Courtney has asked everyone he knows, but no one can agree. The debate has since spread across campus with the same hostility and fervor that fueled the stupid fucking striped dress debacle.
It is impossible to know for sure what the true grade is, as Courtney was unsure of his performance and Mendell does not record his grades because he is a tenured professor and thus believes he can do whatever he wants. As for now, the debate continues…