During my freshman year in college my room mate was from the mountains of N. Carolina.

The day before my US History mid-term exam, I had four wisdom teeth extracted; it hurt, so I took the prescribed pain medication.

Later that day while attempting to crack the books my room mate brought in a Ball jar of moonshine: first time I'd seen it (I was only 17).

He mixed it with grape juice, and in short order I was thoroughly fucked up: moonshine and codeine, that'll do it every time.

I woke up fuzzy headed the next morning and stumbled into class where I took the exam, totally unprepared and reeling, mentally.

A few weeks later the prof called me into his office.

He was, in a word, amazed: it seems that I got the LOWEST grade in the class on the multiple choice section, and the HIGHEST on the essay.