James Garfield was only president for six months before he died, shot by a disappointed office-seeker. We can understand–one time in college, we couldn’t find the Financial Aid Office, so we threw a thing Skittles at the Dean of Students. We may have also called him a “pompous ass-ferret.” We don’t remember; we were drunk. But later, when we woke up naked in the school fountain, we were physically removed from campus by security and told never to return. Which was fine, because we were actually enrolled at an entirely different university, in another state. No idea how we got there; we had like, a two-week alcohol-induced black-out. Also during that time, we apparently got a Sublime tattoo and at least one kidney removed. And such was James Garfield’s presidency.