Chapter One: The Illuminating Information Insufficiency

"Moreover, I believe that this is a crass infringement of my fundamental rights. Despite my heightened intelligence and moral superiority, I am still a human, you know!" Sheldon protested as Leonard propelled him out of the apartment.

"Oh, I know what you are," Leonard muttered as he locked the door. "Trust me."

Sheldon peered at him suspiciously. "Was that sarcasm?"

"Sounded like a good old-fashioned insult to me," Penny chirruped as she jogged up the stairs. She looked at their suits and collared shirts with surprise. "I thought you guys played paintball on the weekend?"

"That's another thing. I am being deprived of my monthly requirement of vitamin D," Sheldon told Leonard. "And vitamin D deficiency negatively affects the growth and development of cells, teeth and bones."

"I doubt you're going to grow any taller," Leonard sighed and turned to answer Penny's question. "Sheldon is lecturing a group of doctoral candidates on the basics of string theory."

"How the hell did that happen?" Penny asked, honestly surprised. "I mean ... how on earth did they convince Sheldon to devote some of his precious time to a group of students so obviously unworthy of his knowledge and talents?"

"Now that," Leonard told Sheldon, "was sarcasm."

"I find myself asking that very question, Penny," Sheldon replied. "And unfortunately, the answer is blackmail."

"Blackmail?"

"Blackmail."

"What, they threatened to take away all the germicides in the men's lavatory?"

"Worse."

"No more Sheldon-approved caffeiene-free beverages in the cafeteria?"

"Even worse."

Penny looked perplexed.

"They were going to take my grant money and give it to the dirt people," Sheldon explained in a horrified whisper. "There's even been talk of allocating it for ... the humanities."

Penny looked even more perplexed. "Can they do that?"

"Apparently. Some vulture with Machiavellian aspirations, yet sadly lacking the mental capacity to fulfil them, drafted my contract in such a way that some loosely-worded clause could be interpreted as a duty on my part to go and teach those poopyheads," Sheldon sighed.

"And if you're late, that grant money just might go to the dirt people after all," Leonard warned. "Let's go."

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"Social protocol dictates that I offer a few glib remarks on how pleasant it is for me to be here, how wonderful the weather is and how charmed I am to make your acquaintance," Sheldon said as he surveyed the lecturing hall in front of him. He sighed and his eyes curled with what could best be described as 'distaste'. "However, Missus Mary Cooper didn't raise her no liars."

One of the students from the front row, a veritable poster child for granola bars, raised his sleepy head from his slumped posture. "Huh?"

"He says that the weather sucks and he isn't happy to be here," the blonde girl next to Granola Boy clarified, flipping her hair over a tanned shoulder with evident disdain. "Right, Doctor Cooper?"

"Well, absolutely," Sheldon responded. The blonde girl looked like the type of girl that Howard insisted on calling 'surfer bunnies'. She was tanned and toned, wearing clothes that Penny would coo over, and, overall, created the impression of trying to be Science Barbie. But Sheldon was willing to overlook all that; after all, there can be no true flaw in someone who has the sense to call him 'Doctor Cooper'.

"Well, that's just stupid," Granola Boy retorted. "When does the weather ever suck in Pasadena?"

The blonde girl made a sound suspiciously like a snort. "That's the part of his opening speech that offends you? What about the poor syntax, the odd choice of words or the oblique, somewhat unflattering reference to the dominance of a specific religious order in one man's life? Or indeed the fact that, for him, it is not nice to meet us? All highly unscientific and unprofessional, I think. I want to hear about Doctor Cooper's work in physics, not the relationship between himself and his mother and I don't want to try to figure out why he seems to set on allowing a pre-formed idea to threaten the teacher-student relationship in this classroom paradigm."

"Actually, my hypothesis regarding relations between myself and doctoral candidates at this university has been formulated and proven by previous experience," Sheldon interjected, then paused. "Although your summary of my opening gambit threatens that hypothesis. It is nice indeed to meet someone with a proper regard for science and method."

"Now you just sound like Hercule Poirot," Granola Boy grinned.

"I'm not familiar with Mister Poirot's work," Sheldon said slowly.

The blonde girl frowned. "Nor am I. In which accredited journal of science would I find his work?"

"None," Granola Boy laughed. "He's a character from Agatha Christie's detective stories, who always focuses on 'his little grey cells' and 'proper order and method' in solving crimes."

"Oh," Sheldon said with a shudder, "the humanities."

"Can we rather focus on proper science?" the blonde girl asked.

"I agree," Sheldon said.

"Hey, if it's not nice for you to be here," Granola Boy began, sounding like someone whose brain was getting a much-needed workout, "then why are you here?"

"My grant money was going to be allocated to the dirt people," Sheldon replied.

Granola Boy frowned. "What?"

"Geography and other pseudosciences, I bet," the blonde girl said.

"My, I rephrase my opening gambit," Sheldon said, beaming beatifically at the blonde girl. "It is indeed an unsuspected delight to be here."

"Now dazzle us with science before you try to baffle us with your linguistic bull," the blonde girl replied.

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Leonard glanced curiously at Sheldon when his roommate entered the cafeteria, trying to appear as though he had been engrossed in his The Amazing Adventures of Spider-Man and not listening for Sheldon's steps. "How was your day?" he asked, flinching inwardly at the memory of how the previous lecturing position nearly 'broke' Sheldon.

"In a word – triumphant," Sheldon said.

Leonard groaned.

"And this time, I mean it," Sheldon continued.

"So no poopyheads this time?"

"Oh, Leonard, of course the class was a bunch of poopyheads; it seems that there is a neverending supply of them in Pasadena. But there was one student who made it worthwhile. Came close to giving me a run for my money, let me tell you!"

"That's good," Leonard said cautiously. Following the previous fiasco, the regular professor had forbidden his class from using any cellphones or Androids or iPhones; the previous posts and Tweets had created some negative publicity for the university and a parent-teachers organisation in the neighbourhood had called for Sheldon's resignation due to his remarks about the class's intelligence. Leonard had managed to shield Sheldon from the fall-out; it was just a combination of luck and good timing that led to that weekend away at the spa which prevented Sheldon from seeing the local papers. But now the lack of Twitter had left Leonard drawing blanks as to whether 'triumphant' should be seen as 'disastrous' or 'Titanic meets Tron 2'.

"Doctor Cooper!" a girl called as she entered the cafeteria and walked over to their table. "Are you planning on taking on any doctoral candidates?"

"Not unless they threaten my regular pizza nights and it is hard to see how that could be lawful," Sheldon replied.

The girl bit her bottom lip. "Would you consider being my studyleader for my doctoral thesis?"

"Why, do you have an insider at Luigi's who could contaminate my Thursday night regular?"

The girl shot Leonard a conspiratorial look. "I love that he's actually being serious about that."

"Try living with him," Leonard suggested. "You'd soon feel somewhat differently about it."

"Well, Doctor Cooper?" the girl asked Sheldon.

Sheldon sighed. "In light of your less than inane responses to my questions, I'll consider it. What is your name and chosen field of interest?"

"My name is Katie Farrah Fowler," the girl replied.

Leonard choked on his soda.

"And I haven't yet chosen a field of interest. I was hoping you could guide me?"

"Well, young grasshopper ..." Sheldon began.

"Excuse me, but do you perhaps have a sister who specialises in neurobiology?" Leonard interrupted.

Katie nodded. "But we don't get along very well and she lacks the proper understanding of physics. No wonder she's been dabbling in the shallow end of intelligent research."

"And you don't think that ..."

"Excuse me, Leonard, but I think it is time you find your own grasshopper," Sheldon said firmly. "Miss Farrah Fowler, take a seat. Let's talk physics."