An End To All Torment Must Come

Well, looks like exams are over.
It does get a little uncomfortable sometimes when the nice examiner who's supposed to have taken your viva voce suddenly finds out he has a bit of trouble at home and leaves, and you land up with a freak who has the world's most unfair book-selling tactic.
That he would find out the world's most ridiculously complicated definitions for stuff like sex perversions, put them in his book, make sure they're not available anywhere else, and expect you to regurgitate them if you happen to be taking a leisurely stroll and suddenly feel an insane urge to do a viva at his table.
It gets more painful if you're not expecting him for your examiner, but someone else who doesn't have a book, and so no mad royalty-earning tactics.
And it gets no better if your roll number is third last in the list, and you have Microbiology the next day, and the examination began at ten in the morning and it is a quarter to four, and your brunch that you had at eight is now filling up the corners of your glycogen stores, and your stomach has nothing in it.
And then if your friend aquilusaltus comes out of the same dark chamber telling you in reasonable profanity that his questioning blew up in his face, you really get scared.
Then another one bites the dust because his apron didn't exactly match the apex results of the Tide Whiteness Challenge, and you steel yourself against events to come.
Then an absolute effing fool comes out with a broad grin on his face 'cause he had mugged his pants off over the aforesaid abomination of a tome, and says you're next.
You walk in.
The Bad Bookselling Tactics Guy says-"Yesh, thish ij hauu eeu shood appear phor ekjaminashun. Eeu shood ware kleen aprawn, eeu shood sheb aand get heyarkaat. Bheri good. I laik eor appearensh."
I say-"Erm, hmm, hem hem, thank you sir."
BBTG-"Aachchha, dephine Phorenshic Tokshikolojee."
Me-(About 70% of answer matched his definition. He nods.)
BBTG-"What do eeu meen bai poijon?"
Me-(Got this bang on.)
BBTG-"Whaat eej therapeutic misadventure?"
Me-(Nearly there. In the meantime, his cellphone starts ringing out Eine Kleine Nachtmusik. I am horrified by this abuse of Mozart.)
BBTG-"Ai Molly, tui koyekta kor.(Takes the call. Does not ask anything else. Molly is his protege in the noble art of tormenting young minds with discussions on the most boring of subjects in the most horrible English.)
About fifteen minutes later, I'm homebound thinking what I will do in Microbiology the next morning with essentially zero preparation.
I don't think I'll say any more. That kind of sums up the examinations. All of fourth sem.
What is wrong with my life?