No, I can’t take it, sorry. You know my policy on late work.
Yes, I agree, your steady average of 35% is a tad worrisome.
Yes, I, too, hope that your final exam saves you, though I might as well hope that I wake up tomorrow as Angelina Jolie on a Jimmy Choo bender.
No, I don’t think that it would help to do copious amounts of extra, unassigned work.
Mostly ’cause I won’t grade it.
Mostly ’cause it would be unfair to every other reliable, dedicated student taking the course.
You know, those people in class with you. The ones that DID do the work- on time.
And yes, I am overlooking the assignment that your roommate wrote for you.
No, the other one.
Ummmm….ok, the third one.
No, I don’t care if your dad is going to whup you.
In fact, I’d whup you if it were legally permissible. Preferably with your other teachers looking on and cheering me on. Maybe even recording it to post to YouTube.
Yes, I will have mercy. See that student over there? The one who was absent last week? You know why he was absent? He had a kidney removed. THAT is an excuse, my little pea-dumpling. THAT is a reason for clemency. THAT is why I will turn around right now, stop you mid-plea, and walk back into my office. Not because I despise you, or like him, but because I’m officially done with this haggling session. I get enough of this with my five-year-old. But do take a cookie on your way out.
No, I don’t provide napkins.