[ WP ] After receiving perfect score on your final exam , your school is asking you to give a speech on the subject of the exam . Little does anyone know you guessed every single answer .

An unassuming bluish grey stone gave way under Professor Maria Millworth ’ s $ 200 black leather heal. It rolled and cracked in much the same way as the professor ’ s poor anklebone. It is precisely this event that led to my unfortunately perfect score on Millworth ’ s notoriously difficult exam. 
 
 The exam ordinarily consisted of three on demand essays that required in depth analysis of the socioeconomic factors leading to the Wamapoke people ’ s subjugation. Why would I, a student who has coasted through my 4 years here at Indiana State University, take such a class? The answer is “ diversity, equity, and inclusion ”. Three quite simple words that mean I quite simply need a class that “ challenges or questions the mainstream views of a predominantly white, male society ”. Going on a four-day beer and psychedelic mushroom filled excursion to the desert means that “ Expression through non-traditional painting methods ” was completely filled. 
 
 Poor Millworth ’ s ankle was so crushed that she had to spend the week she normally spent making the final exam in a morphine-induced joy ride on a sweaty hospital bed. As the other students heard of the tragic news they shuddered and balked in disbelief. Some even wrote get well cards filled with words of encouragement and cute little pencil drawn hearts. I could barely contain my excitement. I was free! Or so I thought. 
 
 The exam was replaced by a 40-question multiple-choice test, or as I like to say, “ an exotic wet dream ”. I spent the two nights leading up to the exam completely and helplessly drunk. In fact, I was drunk during the exam. Now that I think about it I ’ m drunk now, but that doesn ’ t matter. I guessed on every single one of those questions. Every. Single. One. Yet here I am. Standing in front of fifty oddly assembled academics and annoyingly studious college sophomores about to give a speech on the Wamapoke ’ s economic subjugation. 
 
 I crack a smile and adjust my $ 20 stained tie. 
 
 > “ A forty question multiple choice exam. ” 
 
 > “ Each question has four possible answers, only one of them being correct. ” 
 
 I cleared my throat. 
 
 > “ This of course places the likelihood of correctly and randomly guessing each correct answer to be 25 percent. ” 
 
 By now confused faces filled the crowd, and hushed muttering produced a soft buzz. 
 
 > “ If we assume each guess to be an independent event, and I think that is a fair assumption, then the combined probabili—'' 
 
 Professor Millworth attempted to interrupt me with a raised crutch, but I held up my hand and she begrudgingly accepted. 
 
 > “ The combined probability of forty perfect guesses would be the product of all forty individual probabilities. ” 
 
 > “ That means one has an 8-point-three times ten to the negative twenty-three percent chance of a perfectly guessed test. ” 
 
 > “ Essentially you are more likely to be killed by a shark carried by hurricane winds and crushing you to death than you are to perfectly guess on such a test. 
 
 > “ What would such a result even mean? Existence of a higher power? Psychic abilities linked to alcohol consumption? ” 
 
 > “ I ’ ll let you decide ” 
 
 > “ I may not be a good student. I may know nothing about the subject you all are gathered here to listen about. But I do know that I got a B+ in freshman Statistics, and these numbers don ’ t lie. Thank you ” 
 
 I scanned the room and then walked past Professor Millworth and her poor, shattered ankle. 

