Of all the pies - apple, cherry, moon, even

Of all the pies - apple, cherry, moon, even pigeon pie, there was but one pie that Bartleby longed for. It had ruined him for all other pastries. He would sit in math class, idly

doodling a pie on high-precision graph paper. It spewed steam in the form of a sine curve (Or was it cosine? Perhaps he should pay attention). He called it "Pigeon Pi." The teacher

,a new teacher at the "Nash School for Mathematically Gifted Children" made a beginners mistake,when she describing his "Pigeon Pi" as a perfect elliptic integral parametrization.

Okay, I just made that last part up, but it was the perfect smoke and mirrors in my excuse. I got those words out of my older brother's book, because what really matters in Denver

Omelets is how much smoked ham you put in them. I copied the whole recipe from my older brother and was the next contender on Iron Breakfast. Nobody knew my secret, except my bro.

I made a mental note to have him eliminated, and continued my prep work for Iron Breakfast. The smoked ham, eggs, onions, salt, pepper; all that was ready. But what to do with the

(me) Lucky Charms. That was my ace in the hole. But the audience was full of kids where were after me lucky charms. If I was going to win Iron Breakfast I'd have to

eat non-stop, even if it meant sharing scrambled eggs (yuk!) with these kids. But the worst part wasn't hiding me lucky charms away, nor having to sit in the kid-sized chairs with

my knees up to my elbows. What kind of restaurant is this? I like chicken fingers and applesauce as much as the next guy, but wearing bibs and drinking from the sippycups is a bit