Inspired by my 90-year-old father, who had reason to repeat one of his favorite old jokes this morning.
God Passes
Ah, c'mon, get serious.
Who was the teacher kidding with this? Seriously. This was like a bad joke, a really bad and not even a little bit funny joke.
Dick Grayson glanced around the room. Of course. Everyone else had their heads down, eyes on their papers, focusing on the mid-term in from of them. The only sound was of pencils and intense concentration. The calculus midterm.The AP calculus midterm. They were twenty minutes into the two-hour test.
One problem. Two hours.
Two hours to solve one problem containing indecipherable symbols which refused to speak to him, offering not even the slightest hint of solution.
Of course it would have helped if he'd had been to class the last three weeks instead of off planet with the Titans. Getting more than an hour of sleep last night would have been a good idea, too.
Sighing, frustrated, he simply accepted reality. There was no way in hell he was going to pass this thing. None.
Solving this was impossible. 'Wasn't happening. This nut wasn't gonna crack. No way, no how. Hasta la vista, baby.
Taking his pencil, he wrote his answer in the allotted space.
"God knows."
The next Wednesday the corrected exams were returned.
Written on the top, in red: "God passes. You flunk."