Then came the visit I'd expected... The boss of MegaPrimes, in person... yet on his own. He turned up in his bombastic Lamborghini and... wham! He slammed open our door and stood there wearing nothing but shorts!

He wasn't very polite: "I'm not afraid of you, you bunch of pricks!" Naturally, when someone says they're not afraid of you, of course they are!

This was a pain in the ass. I only wanted to earn a little dough on the side without anyone noticing. I still barely understood all the technical stuff, but dammit – surely there were enough prime numbers for everyone?

His eyes bore into Matt: "Look at this traitor! An employee leaves his firm to then destroy it! Bravo! He got his hand in my enterprise, became a pro, and then – bang! – he packs his bags and opens up a competing business! Deontological ethics if ever I saw it!"

He turned to me – "And you, you asshole! You think you're king of the world just because you've got the lab guy with you? Prime. Numbers. Inc. What a joke! Listen to me, you pair of crooks! There are only four of us in this business: one in Switzerland, two in the USA, and me. And we don't need the fifth. Take it as a threat, or advice, it's up to you – but I'm telling you to pack your bags and go back to making video games and dropping packages. You're messing with the big boys now, and you ain't got what it takes! You'll lose everything. Everything. And when your life goes to hell and your dead bodies are strewn about your burning business, I'll come and spit on you, and say: 'I told you so, you fucking assholes!'"

He glared at us ferociously, then at our racks of consoles, then left, slamming the door shut.

Matt was shaken so I tried to calm him down, saying, "Relax, pal, it's nothing."

He asked if I was afraid. I replied too quickly despite myself: "No fucking way."