Mammie couldn't sleep: it wasn't the sound of rats in the walls, it was that old conundrum, that hoary chestnut which had tormented her since her Advanced Calculus class.

Sweat poured down her wrinkled brow; gulps of Fireball barely deadened her manic brain.

As was oft her wont she drifted into herself, oblivious to the world, her mind operating like a super computer, seeking the answer to the one question which has tormented her: Do any odd perfect numbers exist?

to be continued...or not