The door to the lecture theatre is pushed open. The assembled students all look down as a small dog, a Scottish Terrier, nuzzles through the door and trots towards the podium, its tiny legs working overtime. It hops up onto the chair placed before the lecturn, places its forepaws up on the podium, and speaks into the microphone.
"Good afternoon, students. I apologise for the delay," it says in John Grodin's droning, monotone voice.
The quiet of the lecture theatre is immediately torn asunder as Nathan explodes with laughter.
"It seems dogs are not allowed in the building. As you can imagine, it took a little explaining," Grodin continues, trying to ignore the outburst.
Nathan rolls in his seat, tears streaming down his face.
"Mr Huggins!" the dog-lecturer barks sternly into the microphone. "Kindly restrain yourself! If you have a problem with my lifestyle choices, with the body that I feel most comfortable in and have chosen to live as, then I would please ask you to vacate the lecture theatre. If not, then I will vacate you myself!"
"AHAHAHAHAHA!" Nathan screams, collapsing off his chair, beating the ground with his fist.
It is five minutes before Nathan finally has control enough to stand and walk from the theatre, still crying with laughter. As he passes the dog standing on the podium, you hold your breath - certain that Nathan is going to reach out and pet the tiny, furry Professor.
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