They're almost all asleep?
Recovering from a bender, no doubt. Your classmates do tend to party pretty hard, you guess. Your whole species does, really. It's a time-honored tradition, known by many names: "BRO-ING OUT," "RAGING," et cetera. Now, you're by no means a radical, but you do, sometimes, privately, wonder to yourself if it's perhaps a bit much.
It's funny, you don't remember there being any MANDATORY KEGGERS last night. You would have gone. You would have HAD to go. They're MANDATORY.
Sometimes, people try to sneak them by you. Trying to tarnish your record of perfect attendance, no doubt. Amateurs. They should know better by now: you ALWAYS find out. And you ALWAYS go.
This is starting to really piss you off. They'd never dream of such lackadaisical layabout BULLSHIT if you were there to steer them true.
Have they all forgotten what you know? What you're capable of? The kind of information you hold over each and every one of their heads? THE PLAN has catalogued every fumble, foible and fault of these foolish foals. You guess it can't be helped. If they were competent to a level you were truly satisfied with, they'd be cohort captains. Just imagine these guys with your job.
...
Okay dude you are starting to scare yourself. Maybe go inside and calm down again.
