#201

I am so very good at pretending to be a boffin that one of the genuine boffins has mistaken me for someone called Professor Ganymede Xerox. It is very important now that I don't get weird and blow my cover.

"Ah, Professor Ganymede Xerox!" says he.

"Am I?" says I. "I'll take your word for it. Perhaps you could tell me a little about myself?"

"I surely can," says he. "You are sixty-three, you were born in Southport, you studied at Oxford and you are the inventor of the quantum picnic."

"Thank you very much," says I. "That'll do for now. I may prompt you for further biographical details at a later point. Well, you know how it is with us boffins, our fat heads are so busy with clever thinking that we often forget these details. And what is your name?"

He looks at his name badge. "Professor Ringo Bobbins," he reads.

"Golly gosh, I'll never remember that," I tells him. "I'll just call you Archduke Nicholas Flapjack III, if that's ok with you?"

"Hell yes," he squeals. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Archduke Flapjack takes me by the arm and several other places and leads me from the room. He tells me that everyone has been really excited about my visit and about hearing about my latest important and ground-breaking work. We reach a room with rows and rows and rows of boffins all seated expectantly. The Archduke announces me, then everyone claps. Then it goes quiet and it's my turn to speak. Gulp.