**un**perfect. Unlike the smoothly flowing and gentle one through five, six is a gutteral, bronchitis-inspired chunk of metal. When counting up by integers, six is the first number to suck.

Start with 1, or if you prefer. Both are very essential, particularly to the Boolean algebra used by our most prized possessions. They fundamentally *must* be there. Their simplicity approaches beauty.

2 is an important number. A pair, a double, a couple, a binomial... a key ingredient to the peace sign and the V for victory.

3 is very artistic, and has also been graced with a wide variety of names. A triple, a trio, a trigeminal nerve, a triathalon... if not for three, there would be no Triforce.

No one can deny 4's place as a beautiful number. The sum of its square root is itself. Cars have four wheels, Final Fantasy had four heroes, and its part of our everyday golf jargon.

The first cool prime number. 5 is as user-friendly as it is graceful. It is so easy to count by! 5, 10, 15, 20... It has its own American dollar bill, and its the high point of The Twelve Days of Christmas.

Then comes 6. Three of them will introduce you to the antichrist. Insects have six legs. It is not prime, and its factors have conspicuosly ostracized the golden number five. Apart from sextet and hexagon, it has no other cool names. Who uses hexagons anyway? Six is an ugly number. An unpleasant number. If a number sued Napster, it would be sixtallica. If an integer could wage war, Adolf Sixler would be the fuhrer. If a digit could be in a bad movie, Leonardo DiSixrio would be the blankly staring face on the screen.