"Is that a question or an answer?" she snapped.
Just as I got up to leave, Floyd shuffled in. His head was down, his shoes scraped the floor.
"How did it go?" I inquired.
"Terrible," he drawled in a sleepy singsong, "just terrible."
"But you knew most of the answers!"
"Most of the answers? I knew all the answers. I pressed the buzzer before anyone else. But they told me I wasn't loud enough. They said I wasn't lively. It just isn't fair. I spent months preparing, and I lose on personality."
I shook my head at the injustice of it.
"It's like Dylan says," he said. "The answer is blowin' in the wind."
I waited a moment before asking, "Could you rephrase that in the form of a question?"