They were exciting times. The International Olympics Committee were excited about Wrongcards agreeing to create the official ecards for the games. We were flown first-class to Geneva and taken on tours of the IOC headquarters by beautiful polyglots dressed in the latest Milan fashions. Cigars were lit, bottles of ouzo were poured into chilled decanters by prim, soundless waiters. And the olives! The olives, I don't need to say, were perfection itself. Our hosts in Lausanne were happy. We were happy. There was talk of us taking a jet to someone's private resort in Northern Italy later in the afternoon for a little light skiing. Then someone asked if we'd like to show them our drafts for the Olympic cards. Innocently, I pulled my Macbook Air from its case... Only later, amid the confusion and tension, I realized my mistake. The very air seemed to change. Someone knocked over a wine glass. Dignitaries were escorted from the room by panicked security guards and a booming baritone declaimed indignantly to me in French. God knows what THAT was about, nor how we got to the airport. If it wasn't for our lawyers I have no idea where it all would have ended. Within hours all communications with the IOC had ceased. We arrived back in Boston dazed and hung-over (but with some deliciously contraband ouzo hidden amid our luggage). We learned that the International Olympics Committee had decided not to sue but I think the restraining order they issued against us was, frankly, a ridiculous piece of over-reaction. And that's where matters stand to this day, and this is how our Olympics Wrongcards came to be, somewhat sadly, the un-official ecards of the games.