DISCLAIMER: I own nothing in this story besides the basic idea. Ninjago is not mine. Neither is Minecraft or anything else I reference in this work.

Let me tell you a story about the first time I ever encountered fangirls.

I was in a crowded room at a fan convention, looking at the nearest Starfarer booth and contemplating whether to risk my head to get that shiny new special edition Issue #137. The booth was totally swarmed with people of all ages, and going in seemed really dangerous. I decided to go find the other identical booth that I passed before, the one that is eerily unpopulated- but hey, I wouldn't get trampled.

Then I turned around to come face-to-face with a group of grinning teenage girls, dressed in varying shades of green and gold (which happen to be your most frequently worn colors) and looking ready to kill. They did not look friendly. One was even holding a katana (and it was real- that sucker freaking glinted in the light like only real swords can), and… was that one in the back holding a taser?

Although I'd met fans on my post-final-battle tour of Ninjago, I'd never seen fans like this. The people I spoke in front of on tour were usually very calm and polite. I'd been asked for autographs before. I'd taken selfies with people that wanted me to. I'd hugged children, laughed with elderly citizens, chatted with parents. I'd never dealt with these kind of girls before.

The girls all lunged simultaneously at me with a high-pitched squealing that I'd only ever heard on nature shows. It was very, very, very frightening. One thing was obvious: These girls loved me.

I ran for my life.

Ten minutes later, I was out of the giant convention center, where my friends were sitting in the courtyard waiting for me. Panting, I sat down and breathed deeply, trying to calm myself down.

Kai set down his water bottle and looked me in the eye. "What happened?" he asked.

"Well, it all started when-"

I heard a glass door shatter, which was followed by a crazed scream of "There he is!" and even more squealing.

I was out of my chair in less than five seconds, sprinting once again towards shelter. Behind me, Jay was yelling, "Where are you going, Lloyd?!" It was too late. I was long gone.

The courtyard was huge, though. I was a really long way away from the door, but my legs kept going. Eventually I got inside, and ran for the nearest empty room. The area itself was deserted, which meant less cover, but easier running. I was almost to the room. It was so close, I could smell the air freshener, and I was nearly there. I was almost to safety, to relief, to rest-

And then I felt something burning hot coursing through my body, and everything went black.

I came to an hour later in a hospital bed. The doctor explained that I'd been hit with a CyTaser 2000, a weapon with thirty times the power of a regular taser that was banned to most average citizens, and then tackled by several fifteen year-olds. Luckily, my team had gotten to me before the girls could do too much damage.

I was scarred for life.

Over time, I met even more types of fangirls. Then, I took notes. I'd go to an event with a notebook in my pocket, and write down the behavior of the fans I met there. I categorized them all into several groups.

My goal: to create a comprehensive guide to nearly every type of fan out there for the convenience of people such as authors, actors, musicians, artists, public speakers- you get it. Nobody should have to go through what I did, and to avoid that, you need to know how to deal properly with fangirls (and sometimes even fanboys).

So here it is, ladies and gentlemen: Dealing With Fans For Idiots.

I literally just thought of this today in school. Don't even ask.

So, uh… yeah. Review, fave, follow, whatever. Okay?

Great. See you on the flipside.

Signing off,

4nn4