While nervously wolfing down KFC in Rob I asked Pyro a question.

                “Hey Pyro,” I said, “Category: IDS. Question: 8-16 hours?”

                “Bacillus cereus,” Pyro said nonchalantly as he munched on a drumstick.

                “Correct!!!!” I exclaimed.

                

For years Pyro has wolfed down, regurgitated, and re-eaten Harrison’s so much that either the smallest buzz term could trigger chapters and chapters of knowledge, or he has totally mutated into a telepath. This panicked everyone.

                

“If I don’t pass the specialty boards,” Ecurb Enyaw Pots said with much drama, “I would totally disappear and erase all traces of my identity from the internet.”

“If I don’t pass the boards,” someone else said with more drama, “I would not attend the bleeping graduation!!!!”

“If I don’t pass the boards,” I said, “I would attend the graduation so I could see how people would sidestep the issue when I’m around and I would catch their secret glances and hear their carefully diverted conversations and self-restrained congratulations and sense the general discomfort at having me around while trying to avoid the giant fucking black elephant in the room and STUFF!!!!”

“Or so you think,” Pyro said. “So you think that people would sidestep the issue. For all you know the department chair would go in front, and say ‘Congratulations to everyone for passing the specialty boards, everyone EXCEPT Special Agent Fox Mulder!!!! And he attended my review for free, if I may add’.”

Pyro is ruthless. A ruthless mutant Harrison’s telepath.