We've got something of a situation out here, we've got 'em running scared. Here there is no law, there are no questions and no answers. Out here we make the rules, us wise men, us pontificating professors, scholarly and just as we are. This town belongs to us now. Out here it's an academic pandemic, it's a bookworm bonanza. If you don't want to get hurt then come no further, because some of these guys, they're crazy. They'll remove your arms at the elbows, collect 'em in a plastic bin, and cook breakfast. Like it's nuthin'. This is where at least several well-read individuals reside. This is where it happens. If you want to speak on the plausibility of multiverse theory and buy a high-quality pencil pouch while you do it, you might find this place suits you just fine. But if your idea of scholastic pursuit isn't up to our standards, well. I suggest you take your business elsewhere.

As for me, I've got a pretty good setup here. I can't complain. I'm a man of middling health and proportions, a stalwart guardian of geometry and all it pertains to. Day in and day out I pace to and fro, thinking fondly of dodecahedrons as I twist my coffee-stained moustache. I impart sage-like wisdom unto any who will appreciate my mathematical prowess. These guys, they're my guys. They look up to me, they respect me. They call me Mr. Fibonacci, and I didn't have to tell them to. They support me, as well as my musical endeavors. Did I mention I'm in a band? Bet you never thought a dumpy old math professor could be in a band, and I'm cooler than any of 'em. I play drums in a post-noise, post-experimental, post-prog, post-post doom metal band called Human Isosceles. You've probably never heard of us.

We're a quintet of angry dexterous men who happen to embrace a shared passion for digits, and there's nothing strange about that. We've got a self-titled EP out, and it's doing really well in certain circles. I hear we're real big in Borneo. And Mediterranean housewives over 41, they can definitely get into Human Isosceles. We're great at birthday parties, too. And retirement homes, and the backrooms of laundromats. People line up around the block to hear us play, they drive in from across the country if they have to. Because there's only one town we'll ever play: our town, the town of scientific breakthroughs and genius intellect and cutting-edge technology. The only town on Earth where a man can do as he pleases without judgment, without fear and without consequences...just as long as he comes from an Ivy League school where he maintained a perfect grade point average and received between three and seven Masters degrees. Only then can he thrive in this town, our city.
Gadget City.