Mess with your least favorite Professor

Professor Margaret Miller was your least favorite teacher. She seemed to assume her students were already well read on English literature and loved to read as much as she did, and also seemed to be annoyed when students asked questions in class. She was MILFish even though she had no children. She was single, and you assumed that no man would want to put up with her.

You head to her office and pass by a classroom and see her inside staring at a blank white board.

You walk in. "Writer's block?" you ask her.

She looks at you for a few seconds with a blank stare then looks back at the board. "No, trying to figure out how to explain to my next class why they blew the last exam."

"When does your next class start?"

She looked at her thin gold watch. "Fifteen minutes."

"Would you teach class in a Playboy bunny outfit or would you rather teach class dressed like a Las Vegas showgirl?"

She sighed in annoyance. "I guess the bunny."

Her pant suit and blouse morph into a Playboy bunny outfit complete with tail and ears. She does not seem to care. "Any other stupid time wasting questions?"

"Would you rather drool uncontrollably when you lecture or speak like a ditzy bimbo?"

"What's with the stupid question, but I guess the bimbo."

"So you think my questions are stupid?"

"I mean like totally," she says.

You smile.