2+2= a full moon.

The Aussie contemplated his whole existence. He had known all along that Andrea didn't have nuptials in mind, but now she seemed to be about to call his bluff of calling her bluff. He took a deep breath and spoke with authority. "The next full moon is February 15th." he explained. He needed time to let his heart mull over what his mind had recently observed, and so he took a chance on borrowing trouble, and bought time with a question to the ostensible Mr. Clementine. "But coming back to the point you were making before," he inquired, "You made mention of facts that were suspected to be true." The Texan was impressed with his perspicacity, and made a mental note never to trust Fosters ever again.

With typical woman's intuition, Andrea read his mind and piped up "What's perspicacity?" "It's like prescience, but in the present tense," he replied, much more concerned with the Australian's point.

"Well, there are certain things that I just can't doubt," he began. "Things like 2+2=4, and Newton's Second Law of Thermodynamics. It's just that as an organization, even absent bureaucratic process, we have NEVER been able to prove things like that." Well, right there, the Australian recognized the Imperial version of an absolutist statement, and put on his best empirical hat for testing. Under these conditions, incredulity was neither here nor there, and his friend appeared to be more in need of some good and honest SOBER, than an argument. "Make me doubt that 2+2=4," he urged him charitably. For his own part the Texan neither postured nor feinted, but pulled the trigger on his argument just like he would a gun.

"I've got it right here on an oilskin next to my heart," he said, and soon produced a small empirical scroll. The argument was inscribed as follows:

To understand what it means to doubt "2+2 = 4" consider:

U = {apple, apple, apple, orange, orange, orange, orange}

let A = { x | x is an apple.}

let B = { x | x is an orange.}

let "a" stand for a variable element of A and "b" stand for a variable element of B.

If I then ask myself, is 2a + 2b = 4, I am left to show, "Four of WHAT?"

2a + 2a = 4a IFF 2+2 can be repetitively added to multiply out to four.

When you are finally satisfied that 2a + 2a = 4a, how do you show the mechanics that, absent the "a's," the old 2 + 2 = 4?

After that, it is not necessary to subvert true algebraic logic by attempting to show that 2a + 2b = 4 fruits, but the possibility will induce many a charlatan to prove an impossibility.

The Aussie had had enough arithmetic and algebra to know he was truly devastated. He hadn't been had, but he felt like it. His eyes got glassy, and his jaw got slack, and he did the thing he thought the Texan might have done just moments before - he swooned. Ms. Sheila hadn't had that many serious boyfriends, and exactly two suitors, so the prospect of someone physically swooning over her made her weak at the knees. She followed suit. There was no fire hydrant handy, so Sam passed the time gazing up at Orion in quiet contemplation.

When he came to, Melbourne made a quick review of the 5 stages of grief, with particular attention to denial, and decided that anger was the appropriate response. "How could you DO that to me?" he asked perplexedly. The 5t regarded him with equanimity; "Without doing you any favors, I have reached out into your head with words, and made you experience what it means to doubt '2+2 = 4.' All apologies to the ancients, I won't wake up tomorrow doubting it, but I'll proceed to disambiguate ordinal value from something I'll call 'numberedness,' and now you know how I earned my Sheepskin," he ground out with a voice sounding like gravel. The Aussie attended to Andrea as she rejoined the living, marveling at the forthrightness of the Texan expression "you've got sand!"

Andrea was able to verify that Orion had stopped his ballet performance, and the two newborn listeners contemplated the revelation by talking to each other. "I can't even imagine doubting it," Andrea volunteered. "How can I face my colleagues back in OZ?" the academic wailed. "They'll howl mercilessly at me for doubting something so obvious, and there will be no refuge from their scorn." "Sounds like you musta gone to one of them Agricultural colleges," remarked Sam with indifference. "Well, at least you know ABOUT respect now," he continued philosophically. "Maybe that'll help." Andrea and Melbourne exchanged a look, and it might as well have been a phone number, because their friendship was cemented like glue. "I'll give you Vegas Odds he's had a filly before and lost her," she said with telling import. The glum Australian could only shake his head. Texan Fosters lacked the punch of the Real Thing. The green Texas can was nothing like the OZ version, and every can tasted like it had a twist of lemon.