The habitual failure

There is a guy in class (let’s call him Thomas) whose marks have been so bad over time that even though you added his marks for two semesters, he still wouldn’t be the best in the class. Don’t ask me how he got to his third year because I would rather find the solution to poverty than answer that. So, one evening, the lecturer gave our papers to the class chief to make sure everyone got their paper on time. So when the papers got to class, everyone’s name was read out – except for Thomas – who is now a genius at failing exams. He has mastered the art of failing so stylishly, that no one can beat him at it. As I looked at my paper, Thomas walked to me and asked me how I could have failed the easiest numbers. Knowing his skill in failing tests, I asked him for his paper to see if he had actually passed the numbers he was calling easy. He told me that his paper had been borrowed and quickly asked a friend to verify for me what mark he had got. The friend said he had got 70%. I have never felt such a failure in my life. With my 60% and Thomas’ 70%, I decided to get my books and read harder. What would the class think of me if they found out that Thomas had beaten me? Even though I didn’t get to know what the rest of the class had, Thomas’ marks were eye opening enough. On my way to get my books, I bumped into the class chief and told him of my ‘mishap’, promising never to lose my way like that again. He laughed and asked for the source of my information. He then assured me that Thomas had scored 19%. I know it’s not good to laugh at another’s failure but I almost did a split out of excitement after that revelation. Now that I know he is still the reigning champion, I’m just waiting for him to beat his own record – Usain Bolt style – only he will go lower!