My friends and I are assembled at our favorite watering hole the night before the execution, drinking in the merits of the case, and puffing our way to a smoky daze. To wit:
Me: So, what do you think's going to happen guys?
Nick: (Philosophy major) Liz, I think's it's obvious your existential existence in that class is over.
Jason: (Music Major) Yeah, I concur with Nick on this one. Your ass is grass!
Me: You know what really bugs the shit out of me guys? Why the hell didn't he just give me an F. Why did he have to make a Cecil B Demille production out of grading it? You know, I understand what F means. Just seemed like overkill to me.
Nick: Liz, I hate to point out the obvious, but you pissed off Raymond Carver. THE Raymond Carver.
Jason: Yeah, like what the hell were you thinking?
Liz: Well, shit I don't know. I certainly didn't intend to piss him off. Things got out of hand and I got a little behind. That's all. And its not like this hasn't happened in other classes, but I don't get tagged on my ass for it.
Nick: Let me repeat Liz. You pissed off Raymond Carver. The Raymond Carver.
Liz: You know what Nick? I don't know Raymond Carver from Raymond Chandler, so your point is not well taken.
Nick: (Sigh) That's your problem right there Liz. You're don't exist on a normal level of consciousness. You're always out to lunch somewhere.
Jason: Yup. I think I would've known I was in trouble, with my first D. I definitely would have known it if he kept doggin' my ass every class, and giving me those looks.
Liz: Well that's all water under the bridge now. What happens now? Do I show up for the meeting or not? Do I let hell come to me or do I go meet it square up in the face? That's the question now.
Nick: Hmmm...Well let me see. He's probably going to read you the riot act at best. At worst, he's probably going to take a piece of your soul with him. If it were me, I'd take my chances and show up tomorrow, because I wouldn't want an Incomplete.
Jason: Yeah, those I's are murder on your GPA, and your's is already in the death zone.
Liz: Ok, so I go tomorrow. What do I do when he's dragging my sorry ass around the room? I assume I'll be able to defend myself. He rarely strings two words together in class.
Nick: Well, I'd definitely keep my mouth shut, which you're not really good at Liz. Tape it shut.
Jason: Yeah, duct tape it for sure and take your medicine. Squawking like a wounded chicken won't impress a guy like that. I think he's more of a YOU LISTEN, I TALK kind of guy. If he asks you any questions, then just be real quiet and answer in a low voice and keep your eyes to the floor. He might take pity on you, and let you stay in the class.
Liz: Maybe, but I have a bad feeling about this guys. Bad feeling.
Nick: Actually, as I think more about it Liz, he's taggin' your ass for a reason. He probably sees something in you, that you're too self-absorbed and lazy to see.
Liz: I'm not lazy Nick! I just can't comprehend some things that's all. What's English to you, turns into Greek for me. I don't know why that is. So I don't get my assignments right. It happens in all my classes too. But he's being a son of a bitch about it.
Jason: Yeah, she's right Nick. You should see her in music. It's like she's in another dimension. One minute she's playing like Cliburn and the next she's like playing chopsticks. Drives Dr. Paul nuts.
Nick: Hmmm,...tell him that Liz. Tell you're having brain problems like epilepsy or something.
Jason: By now he won't believe her. She should just keep her mouth shut and take it. Hope that he lets her stay in class.
Nick: Yeah, you're right. So, that's your plan right there Liz.
Liz: Some plan. I'd better go make out my last will and testament. See ya.