Allan Diangelo Took a year off work to go back to university after years of restless, unsatisfied emotions which manifested themselves deep within his personality.
"Maybe I'll have sex under my seat in class!", he giggled to himself with glee, on his way to his first class: PHL055 - "Introduction to Philosophy and Down Syndrome McDonalds Breath".
He scurried up the cement steps of the building, glancing quickly at the fellow 19 year old students, and took a seat near the back of the lecture hall.
Quietly burping the McDonalds he had for lunch under his breath, he took out a pad of paper and a pen and waited for the professor to start the class.
"Hey mister, you fu$@ing stink. Your supposed to be up front with the rest of the Down Syndrome kids", squealed a fat 19 year old zit-faced student.
"What??"
"Were studying the effects of McDonald's breath on children with down syndrome, and how it may negatively effect the way society treats them with respect to other food associations. Our professor will delve into the possibility that such companies like McDonalds and Wal-Mart have negative connotations due to their corporate sympathies to children with disabilities."
"Duhhhhhh okay!"
It was Allan's perfect chance: to be perceived as a Down syndrome child in a philosophy class, with McDonalds breath.
Everything was perfect.
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