The mood before a final is not unlike the mood at a funeral (or an execution, namely, YOUR execution).
If anyone laughs, or even looks the slightest bit happy, they are pounced upon like we’re the hungry monkeys and they’re the dumbass who got caught flinging poo at the alpha monkey.
YOU JUST DON’T SMILE BEFORE THE FINAL STARTS!!! IT’S NOT RIGHT!!! YOU’RE FUCKED IN THE HEAD IF YOU DO!!!
But I was feeling peckish. Needed brain fuel, ya know. Luckily, someone presented the rest of us with the opportunity, and by the time the teacher got there even the pool of blood was gone.
And then I washed it all down with an Oak Aged Yeti Imperial Stout from Great Divide. And it was good.