This story happened to a FOAF.

     This FOAF was more like a Friend of my roommate.  Now this FOAF has
a rather famous father, a  man  who  helped  in  the  development of the
Jarvik-7 artificial heart.  And  this  young  FOAF wanted to be like his
dad, and his dad wanted his young son to do the same: be a doctor.
     But this young lad had very little  of  the  discipline required to
become a doctor.  Case in point  was  anatomy  class.  The lad had taken
the course under the  assumption  that  it  would  be easy, it was only,
after all, memorization.  But by the  time final examinations had rolled
around, the young man had not  studied  terribly  hard and could not for
the life of him distinguish between his  philitrum and and eggplant.  So
my roommate, being, like myself, and irresponsible little hacker, hacked
his way into the school's  computer  system  (it  was, after all, only a
PDP-11/34 running RSTS/E) (and I confess  to throwing in an idea or two)
and dug up from a RAM buffer  the  contents  of  what was apparently the
test.  Except that on  the  disk  there  were  two  tests, each entirely
different.  Apparently the teacher  (a  Dr.  Taylor, a wise old man with
only one eye and a penchant  for  neon-painted  mopeds)  had made up two
versions of the test, but was only going to give out one tomorrow.
     On the odd chance that this  was  indeed  the  true  version of the
examing, my roommate and I handed this copy to the FOAF with the warning
that it had only a 50% chance of being the right copy.
     Praying, he took it and proceeded  to  study it all night, guzzling
coffee and chocolate  and  memorizing  the  500  questions on the paper.
Then, bravely, he walked to his morning examination.
     The test was being given in the  gymnasium,  where  row upon row of
desks had been set up so that  large  segments  of the school population
could be examined in various  subjects  at once.  I had the good fortune
to be taking a calculus examination  three  rows over that very morning,
and could clearly see this FOAF  sweating  profusely  as Dr. Taylor came
around the corner, and each  time  he  handed  down an exam it would hit
with an audible 'thwap.'  There were,  I could see, two different colors
of examination sheet; some were yellow, some blue.  That was the reason,
I guessed, for the two different files; reading over a friend's shoulder
would give truly erroneous data, even if such an act were possible.
     So Dr. Taylor drops a copy on the lad's desk and proceeds on.  From
the looks on his face, I  guessed  that  he  had the wrong test.  He was
frantically flipping through  the  pages,  the  look on his face growing
longer and more desperate  as  time  passed.   I  felt  sorry for him; a
night's suffering, all for nothing.
     But the lad did not despair.  In a  flash  of insight he raised his
hand.  Dr. Taylor came wandering over and said "Yes?  What is it?"
     The FOAF looked up and said, "Sir, I cannot take this test.  I have
previously seen it."
     Dr. Taylor looked the young lad in the  eye and said "Son, I admire
your honesty," took him into another room and gave him the other test!
     How's that for brass testicles?

===============================================


This happened in a class I was attending a few years ago.

While giving a lecture on the mechanics of momentum and kinetic energy
transfer, my physics professor noticed a student busily snoozing in the
fourth row of the auditorium. He turned to a girl sitting in the first
row and asked her what the result of a collision between two particles
with masses, velocities, and trajectories that he specified would be.
After a few seconds of thinking and calculating she came up with the
correct answer.

The professor then awoke the sleeping student and said, "You! Same
question!"

The student, a bit stunned and bleary eyed, looked around and replied,
"Same answer."

After the laughter died down the professor turned around and said, "OK,
you got me on that one, I won't call on you again..."