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...he was a man of few words, so nobody expected his three-hour-long diatribe about the evils of corned beef and the godly pleasures of pastrami...but they listened...silently

When he finished speaking, there was a hushed silence, then a single solitary voice was heard. "What about the animals? Do they deserve to die just so that we can eat pastrami?"

These were fair questions...questions he was not at liberty to address, at least not yet. That voice! He squinted, trying to see who had asked. OMG! It was...Janice!

Janice always asked the tough questions. Tough but fair. I'd had a crush on Janice since High school. I had to answer these correctly. I answered 7 to 3+4+? But when I got to

the advanced part I decimally began to sweat. Janice asked "If your love for me were the third root of a product of three primes, would it be whole or irrational?"

"It would be unnatural," I said, twiddling my Fibonnaci. "Put that down," Janice snapped, "we need to talk about... my conic section." I knew this hyperbolic so I gingerly

squared my shoulders for the long spiral into the chaos of madness. "You're the one," Janice called out to me, tossing down a long fractal into the void. I grabbed it firmly by the

edge, but the longer I looked the more I saw. It was an endless chain of nooks and crannies. My mind was slipping. Janice grabbed my hands at the last second. It was positively