Well, My Piano Teacher's Russian

Aural skills, the class that I dread, composed of sight-singing, clapping rhythms, and melodic dictation. From the first day I heard that I had to take this class, I thought this was going to be the end of my musical career (in college anyway). I enter the classroom and quickly befriend this girl named Libbie. We began talking about our piano teachers from home and how we now have a certain number of required practice hours. We talked about our audition for piano lessons with the heads of the department and a plethora of musical topics. All of a sudden, Person C butts into the conversation.

"You know I improved my whole audition," she said sticking her nose in the air. It was obvious she had a desire to be the best at everything right off the bat. "Well, my piano teacher's Russian, and I had 4 hour practices; and I had to practice 24 hours a week... 36 before competition."

We were in amazement. "Dang," I said, "That's a lot of practicing, and lesson." I turned back to Libbie and said, "You know, I wish I went to a music magnet school or something. That would've been so cool."

She agreed, "Yeah, that would be cool!"

"You know I went to a magnet school when I was 5 in the UK," Person C said.

"Really?" we inquired.

"Yup, I had to take an entrance exam in Kindergarten just to get in, and I took 10 classes and got A's every single one of them. Most people only take 3 or 4 and get like C's or something, and every year, we had to take proficiency exams to see if we were smart enough to stay in the school. Of course, I was top of the class."

I looked at Libbie, like seriously, this is when we began to become annoyed. Someone from the back spoke asking how well she can sight-read.

"Oh, I can look at a piece and play through it once, then play through it the second time perfectly, flawlessly, without a mistake." Thank you. You just said the same thing 3 times in a row. She continued, "So my major is piano performance, though I really don't need to practice that much. I'm double majoring too." She never said what her other major was.

...

A week of so passed, and every day before Aural Skills, I would ask God to give me patience and to allow me to bite my tongue. He definitely helped me. As I walked in, I saw Sadie sitting in the back by herself. I went over to her, and we began to talk about Finale software. At Liberty, you get extra credit for doing four-part writing on some form of Finale software.

Here she comes, "You know I have every kind of Finale program for the computer; I basically mastered them all. I have Finale ________ which is $400 and Finale _______ which is $250."

Ok, that was all for that class. After going back to the dorm, my friend, Jack, showed me some video on the internet about some girl named Penelope that always had to be better than everyone else. It was hysterical. Thus the new name for Person C was spawned. Thanks, Jack!

So one day, she decides not to show up for class. Libbie finds Penelope in the Religion Hall and asks, "Why weren't you in class today? You know we had a test."

"Well, 2 minutes ago I couldn't even talk, and I'm already a double major. But I actually picked up a third so it's no big deal. Being a triple major leaves more room for absences."

Well regardless of any other encounters. I have found some loopholes in her awesome-ness.
1. Why does anyone need a 4 hour lesson and practice 24 hours a week? It seems a little far-fetched.

2. I thought magnet schools were only high schools. And her English accent is absent if she grew up there.

3. Doesn't being a triple major (if even possible) create more of a hectic schedule and less room for absences?

Note:
Penelope is indeed a real person, and all the above statements actually occurred.