Author's Note: …And right after I post and get 13 (!!!) reviews on my insane, pointless stories, all these Emelan fics come out and incinerate my claims.  How lovely.  I mean, I really appreciate it when I say something, then everyone comes and disproves it!  What kind of world is this?  A cruel, harsh world?  Granted, I had been arguing there weren't enough Emelan fics, but this is a little excessive?  The primary emotion of the world is sarcasm; that is what these posts have taught me.  And, for those of you who care, I still have something like four reviews on my non-humor fic, which just goes to show you that I suck at writing non-humor.  I really don't care.  I mean, I guess I could care, but do I?  NOOOOOO… I just waste all my time writing rants and famous opinions that nobody cares about in the least on this story that nobody has a good reason for reading.  I must have problems… anyway, I'll do another dialogue.  YAY!  Also, since you guys seemed to like the Emelan ones, here are some more.

Briar, Tris, Sandry, and Daja talk on the roof of Discipline cottage (this is before The Circle Opens, okay?  So please bear with me and don't make rude noises.

Tris: Look!  It's the clouds!  They're being born!

Briar: I still think someone pays them to do it.  Why would they do it for free?

Daja: Um… Briar… they're CLOUDS.  They don't have BRAINS.

Briar: Then why's everyone obsessing over them?

Sandry: Everyone isn't.  You are.

Briar: Well, so is Tris!

Tris: Look, a butterfly!

Briar: It's all about clouds to Tris, cloud this, cloud that, giraffe-shaped clouds this, tiny pink mouse-shaped clouds – hold on, what about a butterfly?

Tris: *As though it's obvious* It EXISTS!

Sandry: Yeah, we really needed your help figuring that out.  I mean, naturally, a butterfly usually wouldn't exist, but people would still talk about it.  Normally, a butterfly would jump around saying 'hi' but it wouldn't exis-

Tris: *Pouts* I don't care what you think, you… you… you noble!

All: *Gasp loudly.*

Author: No rude noises, please!

All: *Glare at Author.*

Author: What?  I'm just doing my job.

Daja: Get a life.  I mean, all you do is sit around, writing stories that nobody should care about, and then going around bragging about how you got thirteen worthless reviews on it.

Author: THEY ARE NOT WORTHLESS!

Briar: Prove it!

Author: Fine, I will!  *Stalks over to random area.*  See?  This area is reserved for reviews.  Here are the reviews.  *puts thirteen bottles of hydrochloric acid on the random area.* Now watch what happens when I take these away and put them into the nonexistent reviews area.  *throws the bottles on a random patch of grass, where the bottles proceed to break.*  Look!  See?  *Big explosion rocks the air.  When smoke clears, everyone looks at the once-grassy area and sees-*

Sandry: So that's how butterflies are made!

Author: *Smacking himself.* That was not supposed to happen!  It was supposed to blow up and – never mind.

Daja: Hey, why are you in this conversation, anyway?  *Looks suspiciously at author's note.* See?  It says that this is a conversation between US!  Not YOU!

Author: Silence, infidel!  I come and go as I please!

Briar: Ever heard the one about the astronaut and the blender?

A plane crashes into the third chapter, which catches on fire and plunges into the Nile.

Author's Note: This is probably going to be repetitive… thanks for reading the chapter, you were great, review it, blah, blah, blah, and so on and so forth.  For heaven's sake, I actually have a life (well, I think I do) and I'm not going to throw it away just for your enjoyment.  NO COMMENTS, PLEASE.  Thank you.  Enjoy the show!  Remember, no chapters without reviews!  I'll invent a formula soon, which will then be disproved.  Bye until next batch of reviews!