The Examination, Revisited

You came back. The Society is not surprised. Six further questions follow; we are not pulling punches.

1. At a dinner party, someone refers to a tomato as a vegetable. I pass the salad. I think, "technically a fruit," but say nothing. I cheerfully remind the table that it’s biologically a fruit. I explain the 1893 US Supreme Court ruling (Nix v. Hedden) that classified it as a vegetable for tax purposes, but reiterate its true botanical status as a berry. I refuse to eat the salad on the grounds of categorical inaccuracy, and bring up the structural taxonomy of chillies just to twist the knife.

2. Someone exasperatedly declares, "I could care less!" I know what they mean. I wince internally at the phrasing. I cheerfully reply, "So you do care?" I patiently explain that by stating they could care less, they are admitting to a non-zero level of emotional investment. I draw a mental graph plotting their stated apathy against absolute zero, and verbally dismantle their logical failure in real-time until they walk away.

3. Someone drops the quote: "Houston, we have a problem." I nod along with the conversation. My brain immediately says: It’s "we’ve had". I correct them gently. I correct them, and provide the exact Apollo 13 timestamp for context. I refuse to engage with the rest of their point because their foundational premise relies on a misquote from a movie script, not the official NASA mission transcript.

4. The use of the word "whom." I basically never use it. I use it when writing formal emails or letters. I use it correctly in casual conversation and secretly hope people notice. I reflexively correct others when they use "who" as an object pronoun. I actively set conversational traps, structuring my sentences to force people into using objective pronouns just so I have an excuse to correct them.

5. You are seated in a mahogany-lined office. A lawyer is reading the Last Will and Testament of a wealthy relative who has unexpectedly left you their entire estate. The lawyer reads aloud: "…and the assets shall be transferred to them, irregardless of any prior claims." You: Quietly mourn your relative and accept the inheritance. Accept the inheritance, though the word echoes unpleasantly in your head. Wait until the reading is over to inform the lawyer, in private, that it isn’t a real word. Refuse to sign the acceptance documents until the legal team drafts a formal addendum striking the double negative from the record. Contest the will on the grounds that anyone who dictates the word "irregardless" clearly lacked the mental capacity to distribute assets, intentionally disinheriting yourself in order to protect the sanctity of the legal register.

6. You are taking this quiz for the second time. I just want a better score. I realised I answered too honestly the first time. I noticed the linguistic register of this version is slightly more combative than the first. I have deduced the algorithmic weighting of the A-E scale and am ruthlessly exploiting it. I am no longer reading the questions; I am reverse-engineering the Society’s psychological profiling matrix to ensure I extract maximum institutional prestige.