Googlemath

           "Dude, it's high time", I said.
           "Whose time?", posed the Titan.
           I gave him a look that would have burnt a chihuahua and slapped my forehead in total defeat. Our pedantic, maniac Math sir, had dropped an obvious hint which on the top, appeared to be a simple statement, but an in-depth analysis said more and had the effect of your daughter uttering those two, deadly words: "I'm pregnant". He had babbled vaguely of a surprise quiz the next day, to test whether we've been following his classes or sleeping/playing tic-tac-toe/staring at pallid females/scratching beard/counting-down the seconds.
           I was thoroughly worried chicken poop. It was ages, since I had tried to drill something into that mass of colossal refuse that is so generously referred to as a brain. My brain had grown dull and refused to live up to it's self declared reputation of possessing an IQ along the lines of Einstein's uncle's grand-daughter's boyfriend's neighbour. Quickening my pace, I sped to the dormitory and almost ran into my room, without opening the door. Rubbing my nose and swearing at everybody in Yale, I fumbled for my keys, opened the door and then let myself in.
           I began my quest without further ado. The Search For The Missing Math Book. After hours of back breaking search, I found the book lodged behind the flush tank in the toilet covered in an inch thick layer of dust molecules and what looked hen's eggs through a microscope. I brought the book to my room, thrashing the dust out of it by swinging against the rails vigorously and missing at least a hundred pages including the cover, in the process.
           Armed with a rough note, my half naked Math book and a pencil, I settled down to finally do what my parents have been asking me to in their everyday sermon for the past twenty years. Throwing a desperate prayer to God and flinging a kiss to my heartthrob, I licked my pencil and started to.... zzzzzzzzz. Snores reverberated within the room like a steam boiler with no boiler. The moon smiled an all-knowing smile.

12 hours later:

           The day dawned. Chimp woke up with a start and got up, the pillow sticking to his face. He knew he was screwed. It was 8:45 and classes began at 9:00 sharp. And our man's mind was squeaky clean; cleaner than a new-born baby's bottom. He quickly pulled on some clothes and ran to the class, just on time.
           Sir entered the class and started talking in a tone, that made a vacuum cleaner sound more interesting. Half the class, immediately settled into a deep inertia of stupor but was wide awake enough to listen to what he said.
           "So where did we leave off yesterday? Ahhh... Probability. Let me see. Probability. Hmmm... What exactly is probability in an ergodistical condition? It is something pertaining to the condition that, in an interval of sufficient duration, a system will return to states that are closely similar to previous ones: the assumption of such a condition underlies statistical methods used in modern dynamics and atomic theory.... blah.. blah.. blah.. "
           That nincompoop had completely forgotten that he had announced a test. I was shocked, furious, angry, puzzled and surprised, in any unnecessary order that makes complete nonsense. Then it finally hit me. The guy was clever. Very clever.
           He had said a surprise quiz. Had he given a quiz today, it would not have been a reflex action. My admiration for this guy rose several notches.
           And so I escaped.
           Only to cram another day.
           Tomorrow.


        PS: Chanced to download 12 Angry Men Loved this scene.