Grade

Mrs. Denn smiled as she graded the papers, pleased she'd had the common sense to make espresso and not herbal tea. She'd searched for Rueben's test and moved it to the bottom of the stack, saving the best until last. "Game on," she whispered now, holding it at optimal reading distance. "Here's the thing," Rueben responded to Question One about the nature of evil and the mythology surrounding Pandora's box, "who puts that crap all in one place? I mean ... none of the gods get a whiff of "single point of failure"? Dudes, just leave the wine alone for a minute and think it through. You put all of the world's hot mess into a box and leave it out so that some rando can find it - and the rando in question turns out to be the first female. Then the backpedaling. COME ON. No way you were testing anybody, you just screwed up and didn't have the integrity to own it. I have no problem with Pandora; she's just minding her own business and sees a box laying around. I'd open it, too. I blame the eternal losers of Mount Olympus for turning a collective brain fart into a horror movie. Evil is not a framework, it's chaotic and random and subject to individual acts of will; that's what I'm taking away from this sorry bunch of bull." "How am I supposed to grade anything that satisfying?" Denn asked herself, taking a sip and getting ready to read the next answer.