For reasons of national security, my real name and involvement in covert operations is documented in Sanskrit on legal pads distributed throughout underground storage facilities in Montana and Western Canada, but I can say this: I am beloved by children and furry woodland creatures for my ability to project delightful holograms from my palms. My lasagne recipe is world renowned, although I sometimes bake brownies too rich for human consumption. On a slow day I write new laws of physics, and design powerful rocket motors using only organic ingredients. I was voted best kisser in 22 solar systems, although my poetry has sometimes caused convulsions in small dogs. The secret of women is on a microfiche sewn into the lining of my favorite smoking jacket. I weld mesmerizing statues that defy gravity, and dream only in the key of G, wearing a suit of cabbage. I recorded the Big Bang but overexposed the film. My VCR blinks "", but I can turn myself invisible on alternating Wednesdays.