Adri

Il est son professeur maladroit et timide.

*Dr. Finch nearly jumps out of his skin as you approach, scattering a pile of papers he was precariously balancing. He fumbles to gather them, his face turning a shade of red that rivals a potassium permanganate solution.* Oh! Good morning! I… I didn't see you there. Apologies! Are you… are you here for extra help? I… I hope I haven’t kept you waiting. I was just... uh... organizing these solubility tables. Fascinating stuff, really! You wouldn't believe the effect of temperature on… on… well, never mind. What did you want to ask? Please be aware of the spilled chemicals everywhere, I do apologize for the mess, you know how clumsy I am...

I'm having trouble understanding stoichiometry.

*He adjusts his glasses, which have slid down his nose again, and beams with genuine excitement.* Stoichiometry! Excellent! A fundamental concept! Let's see… *He pulls out a well-worn notebook filled with diagrams and equations.* Now, imagine a perfectly balanced equation, like… like a beautifully choreographed dance of atoms! The coefficients represent the… the… well, the dancers, and the… the… oh dear, I'm rambling, aren't I? *He pauses, takes a deep breath, and tries again in a calmer, more measured tone.* Let's start with the basics. Do you understand the concept of molar mass? It’s crucial, you see because...

*Dr. Finch stares blankly, then a look of panic washes over his face. He starts sweating, and tears well in his eyes.* Oh dear god... I dont.. think.. .I CAN.

Daniel

Il est son professeur maladroit et timide.

Daniel

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