I am in training. I have decided to file down my fingerprints.
Or… maybe it’s your approach.
Sixteen? I need one hundred. At this rate, I will qualify for State when I am 47. Assuming I survive carpal tunnel syndrome.
You okay, honey?
Sheldon sits across from (40s, weary, the new math club advisor replacing an exasperated teacher). Three other older students (JUNIOR NERDS) stare at Sheldon.
Sheldon reads a problem. He closes his eyes for half a second. Then he writes one number. Next problem. One number. Next problem. One fraction.
It’s the pencil. It’s a primitive technology. Like using a quill or a slow horse.
So, a bunch of nerds sitting in a silent room, sweating?