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Bill's answer wasn't what you expected, but then again, you hadn't known what to expect; you hadn't even meant to ask it.
So you laughed along with him as he projected crude images of triangles with scribbled on cocks and vulvas, like something in an edgy, horny geometry student's notebook margins. When he progressed to 'actually' answering the question—his wording—you could hardly follow it. He sketched out two and three dimensional objects, the images hovering before you, expounding haughtily about esoteric math and physics. Once, he flashed up an image of two large triangles—regular isosceles triangles—with a smaller triangle—a baby?—in between them.
Then he moved onto explanations that weren't just obscure and mathematical, but using words you'd never heard before, words that didn't even sound like words, and the images grew stranger, and more animated. A slouchy purple pyramid used its protruding tongue to lick a swollen tetrahedron, and you blushed.
Suddenly you remembered yourself, and interrupted.
"Thank you, Bill, but I've got to stop you—you didn't tell me what this'll cost."
"Haven't you ever heard?" he said, his eye slowly rolling away from his 'illustrations' to face you. "The first hit's free."