After that fateful first meeting, that we now reverently refer to as "the Summit", we entered an intensive R&D phase. We weren't quite sure how to proceed, but we were sure of one thing. We wanted to put safety first.

So we designed a very ambitious research program (or "programme" - one of the few words that looks better in British). Then we realized that the programme we had drafted would require some serious money - money that we didn't have.

Somewhat distressed, we applied for grants from various government and private institutions, and, incredibly, were turned down by every one of them. So we had to go it alone. But we never wavered in our commitment to put safety first (though we did have to scale things back a bit).

We had several questions that had to be answered. Some were safety-related; others were practical. Among the safety-related questions was this: How long could the average person sit on the average commode doing the average toilet paper origami project without injury, boredom or serious discomfort?

We designed an experiment to help us establish an answer to this question. It was ingenious, but simple. We would have a lot of subjects sit on an average commode (no, not all at once), doing the average toilegami project, and would determine the average time it took these subjects to become bored, uncomfortable or injured.

We would determine the average time with a secret formula that we can't disclose here, because we will probably try to patent it when we get some time.

Since we weren't sure what dangers might lurk in such an experiment, ethical considerations prevented us from using human subjects in the early phases. So we used animals.

We went to the local University research lab and asked, "What's a good animal to use for an experiment?" They suggested that white mice were good. So we tried that first. We wanted our experiment to be reliable, so we ordered three hundred of them.

With mice in hand, we put on our lab coats and goggles and went to work. The results were disappointing. Every one of the three hundred mice had trouble staying on the seat, and wound up in the bowl. (Don't worry, we didn't let them drown, but we did make them ask nicely before we rescued them.)

After the first three fell in, we thought something might be amiss, but we couldn't rule out the idea that it was just dumb luck-- that three unlikely accidents just happened to occur in a row.

However, by the time all three hundred had the same problem, we were pretty sure it wasn't a coincidence. We suspect that the mice all had a common problem that made it difficult for them to stay on the seat. We aren't yet sure what the common factor is, but, being naturally curious, we plan to figure that out at a later date. We didn't bother figuring it out at the time, because we had to proceed with more fruitful lines of inquiry, so we could bring our idea to the public more quickly.

Having done our ethical best, we decided we were free to begin the human trials. Those went much better. And we are happy to report that the average person can do the average toilegami project on the average commode for approximately 347 years, plus or minus 12 years, before experiencing injury, boredom or serious discomfort.

We admit that this sounds a little on the high side, but that's the number our secret formula gave us - so it's surprising, but true.

We did have some trouble explaining to each and every one of our subjects why they were significantly below average, however. (Personally, we think they may have been a little lazy.)

With our concerns over safety satisfied, we moved on to answer some practical questions. For instance:

• Which origami designs will work with toilet paper? (it turns out that not all of them will!)
• Which designs work better with 1-ply?
• Which designs work better with 2-ply?
• Are some design modifications necessary when moving from origami paper to toilet paper? (Sometimes extra folds do prove useful.)
• Are there some advantages to using the toilet paper medium, as opposed to more traditional origami media? (There are some.)
• Can you emulate 2-ply, by doubling up 1-ply? (Surprisingly, it turns out you can!)
• What could we be doing with our lives, if we weren't doing research on toilet paper?

These questions proved to be much easier to answer than the questions about safety, and we were able to address them in a matter of a few weeks.

Fortunately, we didn't get around to asking the last question until we had answered all the others. (We shudder at the thought that, had we asked the last question early on, we may now be living in a world without Toilegami. However, we comfort ourselves with the thought that we probably wouldn't have thought of anything better to do with our time anyway - due to the 2001 recession, and all.)

Well that's the story of our R&D phase. We're prepared to stand behind most of it, but we do have to confess that it's not all true. We made up the part about wearing lab coats and goggles.

Now here's the million-dollar question. Why should you trust us over all the other authors who purport to teach you how to do origami with toilet paper? Put simply, we're the experts.

With that said, we feel compelled to offer a couple of disclaimers. First, others are better at origami than we are. If you intend to fold with a medium other than toilet paper (which we can't imagine anyone doing once they've tried toilet paper), you might want to check out some other books by other authors.

Second, we claim no special expertise with the common uses of toilet paper. We do know a thing or two about that subject, but we're pretty sure most of our readers do too. So if you're looking for a how-to book along those lines, you might want to look elsewhere. Our claim is just that, as of the time of this writing, to the best of our knowledge, we are the world's foremost authorities on doing origami with toilet paper.

Oh, yeah, there's something you should know . . .