professor: ...you, Mr....um...Smyth? Can you tell me what Rousseau was getting at in the readings?
student: well sir, i didn't get quite that far in the--
professor: damnit! i'm tired of your excuses. everyday you walk into this classroom sleepy-eyed and unprepared. not once have you come up anything that even remotely resembled an answer.
student: you want answers?
professor: i think im entitled to one.
student: you want answers?!
professor: i want the truth!
student: you can't handle the truth!! (dramatic pause) sir, we live in a world that has parties, and these parties have to be attended by men with cups. who's gonna do it? you? you mr. teaching assistant? i have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. you read your little textbooks and you curse the fraternities. you have that luxury; you have the luxury of not knowing what i know: that my partying, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. we use words like "keg-stand," beer-bong," "shotgun." we use these words as the backbone of a life spent drinking something. you use them as a punchline. i have neither the time, nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps underneath the blanket of the very inebriation that i provide. i'd rather you said thank you and went on your way. otherwise, i suggest you pick up a mug, and start to chug. either way i don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to!
professor: did you fail to do the work?
student: i did my job, i'd do it--
professor: DID YOU FAIL TO DO THE WORK?
student: YOU'RE GODDAMN RIGHT I DID!
Submitted By: Robert Klugiewicz