I just failed my math test. On a scale of one to 10, my performance ranks a solid abysmal, but failing that test might just be the best thing I’ve ever done.

Look at it like this. Me failing my test puts me on my teacher’s radar. I’m now one of her “underdogs,” and who doesn’t love an underdog story? So when I figure out the integral parts of calculus, I’m golden. One glowing teacher recommendation secured. Then, all it takes is a few pushes of a button, and her tale of the prodigal student sends me straight to Harvard…actually Princeton, because I’ll pretty much be royalty at that point. After I get into Princeton, life is practically just kicks and giggles. I’ll even be knighted by the Queen. 

Why would they knight me you may ask? I mean, besides my good looks and unmatched charisma, it’s quite simple. By then, I’ll have won the Nobel prize, maybe six or seven times, because of my pure mathematical prowess. Once I’m done with the measly math digits, Euler and Newton will look like pinstripes on my fine cashmere suit. Then, the only math I’ll ever have to do again is counting my yachts in the Bahamas.

The rest of my life will be spent in perpetual relaxation. I’ll be rich. My friends will be rich, and the only problem I’ll have is telling Jimmy Kimmel and Fallon apart at my totally dope parties.

Then, I’ll settle down and start a family with my loaded wife. After a four-month honeymoon, we will have 12 brilliant kids that would never even dream of failing a math test. We will grow old together, happy together, and unhealthy together.

It really makes you pity those fools that passed the test. I wonder what will become of them? Perhaps they will go into journalism…disgusting. Well, it’s about time for my science test!