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Pinker's Hat Kidnapped

Updated: March 28, 2008, 8:29 AM ET

I received a phone call in the wee hours of the morning—my head still lamenting the lackluster Superbowl Ads, my ears were met with heavy breathing from the other side of the phone. While normally heavy breathing is something I can be into, this was deep, gruff, and stank like whiskey—right through the phone. Finally a voice said to check my email. Was it necessary to wake me up three hours early to tell me to do something that I'd do when I woke up anyway?

The email confirmed ...

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