Black Corinthian Leather

Last night, I met the Ambassador at the opera singer's reception party. All three of us were quite drunk on strawberry champagne and too might night air, but I was still surprised when the Ambassador leaned over to me and said, "You must leave the country today, Ted. I'm afraid you're in terrible danger here. I am serious."

Then she walked away, laughing like it had been a joke.

Walking home at dawn, I felt like the gargoyles on all the old buildings were watching me, but when I reached the hotel I slept soundly.

Today, I went down to the docks, and had had the proof to Fermat's Last Theorem tattooed on my body.

"You'd better be sure your Theorem doesn't have any typos," a passing sailor told me, chuckling, "I'd hate to see you stranded in the desert."

I laughed nervously, but he was right.

I'm going to the lecture tonight anyway, dangerous or not. I just hope the Man in the Red Suit won't be there.

I could use some advice, though. Can I trust the Elephant Hunter? It's too late now to cancel the project - the number's already been discovered. What would you do if you were in my shoes?

Also, how do you like my new shoes?