One day, mysterious letters started appearing to the Gladers. No one knew where they came from. It could have been WICKED. It could be another trial. All they knew was that they had to answer them. But mostly they were bored and needed something to do.

The first letter read:

What are your real names, if you know them? If not, what would you want to be called?

Newt was the first to respond to the mysterious letter. "Well that's easy," he started, obviously having thought about this before. "I'd be Tom Felton."

"Draco Malfoy?!" Minho looked incredulous.

Newt looked almost offended at his protest. "Why not? He's British and awesome and I'm British and-"

Alby pulled his best friend down back into the chair, which he had started to rise out of in indignation. "Okay calm the ego trip there, shuckface," he laughed.

Minho snorted. "Like you could be a good enough Slytherin anyway," he mocked jokingly. The Runner turned to Gally and started what was evidently some top-secret Slytherin handshake.

Teresa, who was watching the shenanigans idly, proceeded to facepalm. Fortunately, the argument was interrupted when a very puzzled Chuck asked, "Guys, who are these people?" Everyone stared at Chuck, who had obviously lived a highly deprived childhood.

"You mean you've never…" Teresa started, and trailed off.

Thomas finished the thought for her, something he could often do even without telepathy, much to his bewilderment. "You've never seen Harry Potter?"

Chuck, still confused, replied, "No, was I supposed to?"

"You missed the time WICKED let us have a movie night?" It was Teresa's turn to be indignant. WICKED hadn't easily accommodated that event.

Gally, of course only speaking to complain, shuddered, recalling a particularly horrifying memory. "That would be the time that Chuck decided to eat his entire extra large popcorn before the movie started and ended up puking all night."

"I think I missed that part, sorry…not..." Thomas responded, looking mildly horrified at the mental image.

Alby took charge of the situation, ready to prevent a possible Harry-Potter-and-vomit-related riot. "Alright as former leader of the Gladers I'm holding an officially mandated Harry Potter screening to get this shank up to speed."

Newt, by habit, followed with "second it." He shook his head, as if he'd been personally offended. "Doesn't know what Harry Potter is…" he muttered.

Chuck drew everyone's attention back to the letter, obviously tired of waiting for his turn. "So anyway, I like my name. It can mean food!" he exclaimed, sounding just a little too excited.

"Or puking," Minho filled in.

Teresa looked like she was ready to kick Minho. "Really? We literally just stopped talking about that," she groaned.

Alby seemed to come to a sudden realization. "Wait, Teresa, you got your memory restored."

"Can you tell us our real names?" Gally asked, uncharacteristically eager.

Teresa, never one to miss an opportunity to antagonize the leader, smirked and replied, "Well, that conclusion took a while".

"Get on with it!" Minho protested.

He was met with a piercing blue glare, before the girl continued, "Ok, well honestly, I don't know all your names. I know Thomas' name and mine because we were together longer."

"So what's your name?" Chuck asked.

"Well, Thomas' real name is Stephen," Teresa began.

Thomas suddenly began to have violent inner turmoil and confusion because that was a name on the gravestone in the Deadheads. However, in typical and eloquent Thomas fashion, he couldn't come up with a response other than "huh."

"He bloody asked for your name, Teresa," Newt retorted, realizing she was hiding something.

Regretting having spoken in the first place, Teresa sighed. "Ok, fine, when I was little, my name was Dee Dee."

Minho immediately burst into what could most accurately be described as a giggle fit. "That's shucking adorable," he choked out between laughs.

This time, Teresa actually did kick him, a bit too hard to be a joke. "Shut up. I was, like, four and on the run from Cranks," she protested. As she said that, she twitched a little as images from that time flashed through her mind.

"It's not that bad, I guess. At least you know what it was," Newt said. Truthfully, it was partially in terror that his real name was something incredibly embarrassing.

Gally rolled his eyes at the older boy. "Slim it, Newt," he whines. "You're being too nice again. We're trying to mock Teresa's name, here."

Newt rolled his eyes back, and sarcastically responded, "Fine, I'll be less bloody nice." He turned to the boy and punched him hard in the shoulder. "Better?"

Gally rubbed his shoulder. "Shuck it Newt, that hurt," he complained. Under his breath, he muttered something about "stupid cranks."

"Woah LOW BLOW, LOW BLOW!" Minho yelled, reacting first to Gally's insult.

Newt rose out of his chair, all trace of humor gone from his expression. "Excuse me?! You wanna say that to my buggin' face?" he challenged. He was met only by silence. Gally was fully aware that he was no match for the much taller Glader.

Alby interrupted another quickly brewing fight. "SO ANYWAY!" he yelled above the cacophony. "Wait can I be a movie character too?" he continued, once everyone had settled back into their seats.

"If I can't, you bloody well can't either," Newt protested, still glaring at Gally.

"Fine, you can be Malfoy if I can be Nick Fury," Alby sighed, not ready for the blond to start another argument. "But actually I'd probably be something like Aaron. I've always liked that name," he concludes, although he wondered where he had heard the name in the first place.

"But you used a bow, wouldn't that make you Hawkeye, not Nick Fury?" Chuck interjects.

Minho looks amused. "So you're up to date on miscellaneous secondary superheroes, but not Harry Potter?" He shook his head. "Shameful."

"What?" objected Chuck. "I kinda liked Hawkeye. And Captain America."

Gally sighed in a you-poor-deranged-child fashion. 'Chuck, no one likes Captain America."

Teresa had been looking increasingly annoyed throughout the exchange, and finally broke in, "Guys, can we literally not focus for more than 30 seconds at a time? Boys…" she muttered the last word under her breath.

"She's right though, they did ask us a question," Thomas supported. "Who hasn't picked a name?"

Newt counted around the circle, and pointed to Gally and Minho.

Gally took a deep breath, and began. "I hate whoever named me Gally. I mean, Thomas is a normal name, newts are like poisonous lizards or something, and even Alby's not a bad name. But who thought it would be nice to name me Gally? Seriously?" His voice escalated in volume until he was almost shouting on the last few words.

Surprised at the pure anger content of the statement, Minho replied, "Woah man, that's some serious pent up rage you got there.

Gally looked almost murderous. "Slim yourself Minho, at least your name sounds cool. No one takes you seriously with a name like mine."

Once again putting his foot in his mouth, Thomas said, "Actually, we never took you seriously because you're kind of shucking ridiculous when you try to be scary. I'm just saying."

Gally turned a ferocious glare onto him. "No one shucking likes you, Greenie. No one. But honestly, I'd change my name to something less weird, like Mason, maybe."

Quick to forgive, Chuck nods, replying, "Good that. It works."

Minho, annoyed that Gally took so long, broke in. "Can you guys ACTUALLY see me as anything but Minho?" he asked.

Everyone considered for a moment. What exactly would you call a sarcastic, hyperactive Runner?

Finally, Alby offered, "Not really."

Obviously pleased with the answer, Minho abandoned all pretense of seriousness. "Well that settles it. MINHO FOREVER!" he yelled, beginning a lap around the room with his arms in the air.

Alby rolled his eyes, not believing he had ever let the other teen order him around. "Well, that's about it for today," he stated, afraid of what would happen if he let them go any longer.

Thomas jumped in, "Tune in next time to hear us answer more questions."

"Hopefully a little more on task..." Teresa muttered to herself.

Shouts of "MINHO FOREVER" continued to fill the air as the Runner made use of his considerable lung power by running and yelling. Finally, Gally lost patience, and turned to punch Minho.

Newt hurriedly finished off the replies. "Ok, bye everyone," he shouted over the chaos. Minho and Gally were now in a full on fight, Chuck hopelessly trying to scramble out from under them as the secret camera faded out.

So, if you were following Ask the Gladers at all, you're probably aware that that was pretty similar dialogue. As you may know, I was informed that the format of that story was against the submission guidelines, so I will be taking it down. The other chapter I'd already posted in that one will be reformatted like this one and posted here, and the ones I already had written will also be redone. So, if you already had a question on the first story, it will still be answered.

But really, I honestly hope this redo version wasn't terrible. I tried really hard to make it still funny but I don't know if it worked :'( Please review, and if you have any questions for the Gladers, submit them to me through PM (because apparently that's how I have to do it).Thanks for reading!