Alternative exams

Apparently it’s exam time. Did you notice? Unfortunately, the University runs exams in a way that is both unproductive and very boring. Therefore, I’ve come up with an alternative plan, which can be implemented for next year (i.e. when I don’t have exams).

Exams are held at any place, any time. The moment revision week begins students are kidnapped at random. Students must have their matriculation card on them at the time or they are locked in tiny cages outside the library for the duration of exams in order to remind the others to carry theirs. Those who do have their cards are blindfolded and taken to an undisclosed location where they are forced to down an unholy mixture of Jaegerbombs, Tennents, and KFB chip fat. Upon drinking 16 litres of this, they are locked in a darkened room and smothered in cat food. Hamish McHamish has Viagra injected directly into his retinas and is set loose on the student for 16 hours.

If the student survives this, they are taken to the exam room where they must fill in their exam card with an ancient quill and an ink made from the Santorum of St Andrew himself. Bad Romance by The Other Guys is played over speakers at 240 decibels, because people haven’t heard enough of them already. The exam depends on the student’s subject. Medical students are infected with a mystery disease that will melt the skin off their face in half an hour if they cannot find a cure. Geography students have their hair covered in paint and are used as a human crayon to see how they like it. Art History students are informed that there is no exam and they should have chosen a real subject.

The exam itself makes up 0.01% of the student’s degree, the rest of which is calculated by decapitating a chicken and seeing how many seconds it survives for, and that determines the percentage awarded. The average time is 2 seconds.

The stress of revision turns 93.56% of the student body to insanity, and they are forced to drastic measures to cope. Tesco’s energy drinks become the norm, although nobody realises that the bottles have been filled with rat diarrhea in a sly attempt to increase profit margins. More disturbing is the complete decline into anarchy, when vast sections of the student body swallow the myth that sacrificing intelligent students to the Sun will increase their brainpower. The PH outside the squad is occupied day and night with constant burnings of anyone who has ever got a 16.5 or higher in any of their essays. Upon finding this to be ineffective, students turn to experimental drugs only to find that this leads to horrific mutation. Half those who take these drugs grow razor sharp teeth from every orifice, while the other 50% spout 15 feet tentacles from their mouth. A war breaks out between the two sides on Market Street; in order to reach the library students have to run past the screaming dying disfigured bodies of their former contemporaries. Any mutant students who survive and make the exam then spend 90% of their time trying to persuade the invigilators that the fresh faced innocent Fresher on their matriculation card bears some resemblance to the hideous crab creature they’ve suddenly become.

0.025% of the student body pass their exams, only to be told upon graduation that their degree is worthless anyway, and they are doomed to a lifetime of wrestling Hungarian midgets in a desperate attempt to win X Factor, 2042.

Or something like that, I dunno.