It's a 5t Small World;

Sam was surprised: His email reflected news from Darwin, Australia. That Melbourne should conquer six degrees of separation, and contact him unannounced was not mathematically the same a 1/6 x 10 E 9, but still, intelligent design had not really been his style. The subject line was dumbfounding: "Rotational Velocity of Inter-Continental Cakes."

Sam opened the mysterious missive with secret delight. He was a little disconcerted, but surprises from Melbourne were likely to be unanticipated happinesses. The instructions inside were scientific in nature. He was to obtain the audience of such Academics as would listen, and ask them to compute for him, "...the rotational velocity of an upside down cake, if it rotated one degree at a time, half way around the world." His warning was specific. "Make sure that the relevant product does NOT agree with 180 degrees," he wrote. "180 degrees is the difference between that half of the earth and this half. Compute either zero or something else."

Sam pondered this from a linguistic point of view. It was perfect grammar. He recapitulated with a view to what he knew of logic. It appeared to be a true dichotomy. False dichotomy was when your boss gave you two bad choices, and made you pick the lesser of two evils. For example, "Do you want to get off your ass and fix that money dryer, or do you want me to KICK your _ass_?" was a serviceable prototype. “Zero OR something else” evaluated to logical true. In fact, Melbourne's lesson on tautology applied: You might as well hang up your spurs trying to compute anything else.

He decided to confide in Ursula. He looked up and She walked into the room, but not in that order. Her apron appeared to not quite reach around her at the back. She was examining her ring ostentatiously. "Why would Melbourne know about our German Chocolate upside down cake?" he asked innocently. "Oh I doubt he does," was her reply. This seemed paradoxical, and quite feminine to Sam's mind, but in his current state of incredulity he felt the need to verify aloud. "This email right here states in ENGLISH that Melbourne wants to know SOMETHING about cakes turning over in the mail." he began. "Now, _IF_ he doesn't know about OUR German Chocolate upside-down cake, _THEN_ WHY is he asking questions like THAT?"

Ursula managed to look as shocked as he felt. He studied her face. Yep, he felt EXACTLY that shocked. "Andrea probably asked him to go to the store for pineapple upside-down cake ingredients," she replied reasonably enough. "Did he say that he and his sheila were going to send US one?" Sam took the maximum allowed timeout before he answered; it was otherwise a no-brainer. The naked truth would do. "Nope."

Normally this abbreviation would have conflicted him. He did not consider himself a verbose conversationalist, but his economies were of ideas, not exactness. Other than that, he hoped she CHOKED on her peace of mind.

His email to Melbourne was cryptic in response. "My map is unclear. Will the relevant transport be taking a 'Great Circle Route,' or an elevator straight through to China, and an over-land route from there? (For completeness, literally ALL Interstates transecting Hawaii have an 'H' prefix, instead of the continental 'I' prefix.)"

He reviewed his effort before clicking the "send" button. He was a little overwhelmed, but of THIS much he was sure. There were _NO_ clues about Germany or Chocolate here. He launched his improbable electronic bottle off on its symphonic journey through digital space, and went off in search of refrigerated Texaco.

Ursula had anticipated his needs, but he generously reminded her that he had not long before been completely on his own; he nearly went off on HER. Upon returning the iced Fosters she proffered him with instructions to evaluate the newest lemon-lime balance, he compromised with a glass of 4 degree Fahrenheit water (over ice for good measure,) from the dispenser in the door of the refrigerator, and retired to the shower.

Ursula's peace of mind was inviolate. She re-dialed Andrea's number as soon as Sam had left the room. "Dish," she invited. Andrea was innocent of the machinations of Rube Goldberg, but her feminine feline instincts were aroused. "My 'woman's intuition' tells me you're right, but I'm still worried," she professed. "Are you SURE Melbourne _can't_ fool Sam into thinking all Pineapple upside-down cakes made in Australia come out of the oven reverse of everywhere else in the WORLD?"

"Is it worth it to make Melbourne replace the old Land Rover?" Ursula replied, answering a question with a question. Andrea could not deceive her heart and answered unaffectedly. "Yes," she admitted, her eyes filling with tears. "There, there," Ursula comforted her softly. "It's worth it then, dear," she confirmed. "I'll make Sam help him out with a string of horses later."

She was aware that Andrea was deeply moved, but the scheme was labor intensive, and there was DIGNITY in labor. She was sure the kindness would not be misunderstood. "...if I ever need a friend, I'll know you would do ANYTHING for me." she finished. Andrea blubbered helplessly into the phone, and Ursula cooed in reply until she felt better. By the time Sam returned, Ursula was setting the evening table with a seven layer salad, barbecue chicken and mashed potatoes, with a stir-fry on the side. The Li's address had been child's play to infer; the zip was available from USPS._com_; a government web site with a NORMAL extension, and Mrs. Li's recipe had been simplicity itself.