Q: Who creates the standard style guide for a research paper?

A: Usually the teacher. Occasionally the dean. Sometimes a charismatic student.

In our case Billy. Billy sets all the standards.You don't know Billy? That's right, you're new.  He's the boy over there, on the monkey bars.

DON'T MAKE EYE CONTACT!

Think pure thoughts. Think pure thoughts.

That was close.

Billy is what we call ... gifted. He's a very special boy. A wonderful, special, little boy. About a month ago, he discovered he has the most amazing powers. He can control matter. He can control life. Anything he can think of, he can do. He's a wonderful little boy.We're lucky to have him.

He's looking at us. Smile. Smile.

A couple weeks ago, we had a priest come by to talk to Billy, to see if he maybe had any ... visitors ... in his soul. Billy struck the man blind. Then he gave him back his sight. Then he laughed and laughed and laughed. Since then, we've let Billy make all the decisions. We feel that's for the best. If he wants recess to last for six hours, then recess lasts for six hours. If he wants all research papers to be written in Sanskrit on used toilet paper, then we'll start teaching Sanskrit and stop flushing. If he wants to have the teachers battle each other in gladiator style combat, to the death, each day at lunch, who are we to argue? He knows best.

Yes, life under Billy's rule has been wonderful, just wonderful. You'll like it here. I've worked at a lot of schools, but this one - His back is turned. We can overwhelm him and regain control. It's our only hope. You go first. I'll create a distraction. Go. Go. Go. Go.

LOOK OUT, BILLY! THE NEW SCIENCE TEACHER IS COMING TO KILL YOU!

Q: How can I find out if a deceased family member had any life insurance?

A: Oh dear.

You could hire a private detective to dig into their personal lives, interview everyone they've ever known, follow their life from birth to death - basically learn everything about them.

Or, you could find out while they are still alive. Walk right up to them and ask. Something like, "Hey, Dad, do you have any life insurance?" That would be easier than all that private detective nonsense. If he does have life insurance, you could ask "Am I the beneficiary?"

If you are the beneficiary, then you push him in front of the train. Once that train hits him, the "information gathering" portion of our plan has expired, and the "making it look like an accident and creating a credible alibi" portion has begun.

I probably should have explained all this to you earlier. It was unfair of me to assume that you knew how to commit insurance fraud. Oh, well, we'll get it right next time.

Speaking of ... Does your mother happen to have life insurance naming you as the beneficiary? And would she happen to enjoy any high risk hobbies, like skydiving, or hang-gliding or making toast in the tub?

Q: What is a moderate party?

A: A party where no one's really bored, but no one's really having any fun. The food is acceptable, the music inoffensive, the guests a step above dull. Everyone looks nice, but they're looked better. A party where most of the men haven't shaved and all the ladies threw their hair in a bun and wore flats. The kind of party everyone will forget about in a week.

If I had to give a concrete example of such a party, it would be this wedding. It's nice and all, but it just feels like a waste of time. Not to say that you don't look beautiful, because you do, and so does Brad. It's just that, well, we've all been partying pretty hard all weekend and no one has any energy today. The thought of sitting through a bunch of toasts full of inside jokes and watching old people shuffle around the dance floor makes us want to gouge our eyes out with our salad forks. God, even these salad forks are forgettable.

If you don't mind, we're all going to duck out early. We're all going to leave at once, so it's less of a distraction. There's another wedding down the street that looks like a lot of fun. They have a live band and everything. We'll let you know if it's any good and maybe you can swing by when you're done with all this.

Let us know how everything goes, especially that whole "I do" part. Text us or something. Can't wait to hear!

Q: What is the best way to flush THC out of your body?

A: I really can't say. I'm not the THC expert you take me as. You're probably confused. 

You probably think you're still talking to your friend Will, still pulling over to the side of the road, freaking out, trying to hide the weed before the cop gets to the car. 

I want you to do something for me: Take a look to your right and tell me who you see. Who's sitting right there next to you?

That's right, it's your friend Will. Now, take a moment, think this over - who does that make me? I'm not Will, so I must be the ...?

Nope, not Smokey Bear. You're just saying that because of the hat.

Take another guess. Look lower. You'll notice I have a badge, as well as a gun. Who does that make me?

That's right! I'm the cop who pulled you over. Good job! Now, do you know why I pulled you over?

No, it wasn't to say hi. I pulled you over because you drove through that farmer's market - that's right, the one that smelled like cookies - and ran over 4 people. You would have hit more, but you were only driving 6 miles per hour. Most people saw you coming. 

I'm going to go out on a limb and say you might have been driving impaired. You're in some trouble. I'm gonna need to draw some blood, to determine just how much trouble we're talking about.

Calm down now. Don't try to drive away. That's not going to work. I want you to do me another favor: Take a look beneath you, behind you. What do you see?

That's right! A bench and a room full of criminals. Did you have those in your car? 

No, you didn't. Which means you're not in your car, but in the  ... ? 

That's right! Police station. You're in the police station. So it's probably a little too late to worry about flushing those drugs out of your system. It's probably time to get a lawyer.

That's not your lawyer. That's a plate of chocolate chip cookies. My wife made them. They're for everyone. Please stop eating them. 

Q: What is the transfer movement of heat from one substance to another through direct touch?

A: That sensation you describe is a direct result of sexual intercourse. It is the end result. It means I'm finished.

Don't act so surprised. What did you think we've been doing for the past eight minutes? Cuddling?

Cuddling? Seriously?

You thought we were cuddling? Naked? In the break room? With parts of me inside parts of you? That's what you consider cuddling?

You know what you call "cuddling" the rest of the world calls "sex" right?

Well, what do you call "sex"?

Oh.

I've never done that. How does that even work? Why would the guy enjoy that? Don't you worry about the horse crushing you?