Saturday, Sept. 26 has been looming like the Grim Reaper on the minds of many of the nation’s brightest college students for months now.

No longer far off in the future, the date of the next administration of the LSAT now seems all too real. Saturday. Judgement Day.

The futures of all who show up hang in the balance. Some will rejoice as their 65 thousand hours of flipping Kaplan and Princeton Review pages translates into an astronomical score. Others will watch as their dreams collapse under the weight of a half-empty scantron.

Me? I think I’ll just get a perfect score.

Why not? The LSAT is a 100 question multiple choice test with scores ranging from a minimum 120 to a perfect 180. This creates a range of sixty score options from which to choose from.

I did some research, and it is undeniable that higher scores translate to higher acceptance rates at prestigious law schools. Therefore, a 180 is the most desirable score for those looking to maximize their chances of getting a wife way out of their league being accepted to a top-flight school.

After some introspection, I feel this is the category in which I fit best. Some of the other options seem alright, but choosing a score less than the absolute best just doesn’t sit well with me.

Incredibly, all I have to do to guarantee my personal good fortune indefinitely is fill in some bubbles on a scantron! While I probably couldn’t safely color inside the lines until roughly tenth grade, doing so now is pretty simple.

You would think that one of the most important tests for college students in America would require some sort of writing, therefore infinitely decreasing the probability of perfection, but then again, that would mean the odds of me doing well would be roughly equivalent to my odds of getting a wife way out of my league. Instead, all I have to do is fill in the right bubbles. I love this country!

It only makes sense for one to choose the best possible option in any decision-making scenario. In my mind, the perplexing and obvious question follows thusly: Why do the vast majority of test takers consistently choose scores less (and in many cases, far less) than the best available?

If a bank were to charge $130 to enter its vault and take from it whatever pleases you, I would wager that absolutely everyone would do whatever possible to carry out as many Benjamins as they could.

And yet, year after year, thousands pay the Law School Admissions Council $130 to take the LSAT and don’t even bother to color in the right bubbles!

I propose that this information represents a reflection of the underrated modesty of today’s young people. The vast majority of LSAT takers probably choose scores below 180 for the sole purpose of not looking like an arrogant, self-loving, holier-than-thou know it all (it’s too late for me, anyway). They would rather have a decent 150 or 160 and not have to deal with looking like an intolerable braggart every time they mention their score (I will have no such timidity).

I guess I have to applaud all of you out there who, come Saturday, will take the high road and choose a less than perfect score. By making a bold statement about the human capacity for humility, you will allow my perfection to stand out as almost singularly striking.

You’re better people than I am, even if your LSAT score doesn’t reflect it.

I promise I will think of you while making the kinds of history-changing, all-powerful executive decisions you poor plebeians probably think only exist in high-def. When I am cruising the Mediterranean on my 450 foot luxury yacht equipped with a helicopter pad, an endless cocktail bar and more cougars than Yellowstone National Park, my servants will serve as a constant reminder of your selfless sacrifices which made it all possible.

Perhaps I will in some small way return the favor to you as my life becomes the guiding light for all of society to follow, a beacon of otherworldly perfection which will forever remain as humanity’s gold standard.

Wait, you mean that’s not how it works?!