"So...Raven," Chanceless began, snatching a certain elderly wizard's half-moon-shaped spectacles from another fandom and placing them accordingly on her own nose.

The empath glared venomously, levitating cross-legged, across from her tormentor, an unbreakable alien-technology collar around her neck, an equally unbreakable red laser rope connecting Raven to a socket in the floor.

Chanceless organized her lengthy stack of papers she had assembled during the last segment and began her assault. "Would you consider yourself Goth or Emo? Or Punk? Do you really listen to Evanescence as much as Fanfiction would imply? Where exactly did Beast Boy, Robin, Starfire and Cyborg (in that order) disappear to in Fear Itself? How come Tara Strong voiced Starfire in Switched instead of keeping the voices the same when your voice actress is clearly talented enough to handle Raven-with-the-Starfire-personality, as is demonstrated in Nevermore? How come your powers didn't go all out of whack when you first met Aqualad in Deep Six, but did in Divide and Conquer when Cyborg ditched the team? Would you prefer Robin or Beast Boy in bed? Do you have any romantic relationship whatsoever with the enigmatic "Goth Boy"? Do you like show tunes? If Blackfire was so clearly evil in Sisters, how come you didn't sense the bad vibes coming off of her? If Terra was so clearly evil in Titan Rising, how come her bad vibes didn't send warning bells through your head even after she'd done the whole 'I TRUST YOU OMG' thing?"

RobinRocks, ringbearingreasergal, and Still Sketchin' sat off to one side, piles of money between them.

"Fifty bucks says that Raven will die from inquisition overload," Sketch announced.

Greasergal cocked an eyebrow. "Seventy says that she'll blow up the studio when she can't handle it anymore."

RobinRocks smiled thinly. "I bet you all one thousand pounds that Raven doesn't know the answers to any of her questions."

She was met with two stares of shocked disbelief.
"What?" the supremely awesome Fanfiction author retorted. "She only knows what the scriptwriters tell her to know. Duh."

Sketch and Greasergal hugged each other tightly, tears streaming down their faces. "How can you say such a thing?" cried Sketch in anguish, clearly beaten down by the heathen declaration her idol had just made.

"...Because it's true."

By now, Chanceless had moved on to more miscellaneous questions. "What's your favorite candle scent? What's really your favorite color? Are you still a virgin? What's your cup size? What conditioner do you use? How many showers are there in the Tower? Have you ever been to school? How are you so smart? What do you want to be when you grow up? What do you think of your Cartoon Network rival, Buttercup? How do you feel that your own voice actress voices Buttercup's teammate? What's your favorite TV show? How do you feel about all the horrid Fanfictions alluding you to Edgar Allen Poe's works? Have you ever really considered redecorating? What brand of mascara do you use? Could you fix my iPod with your telekinesis? Could you fix my DVD player with your telekinesis? What is the scientific explanation for your telekinesis? Can you read my thoughts? Are you afraid of the light? How come you never wear anything but your leotard and cloak? Do you ever wash that thing? If so, wouldn't that mean that you walk around naked because you have nothing else to wear? And wouldn't that result in multiple pregnancies? How many abortions have you had? Would you ever partake in a romantic relationship with Cyborg? Why did you help Cyborg rebuild his car by hand instead of just reconstructing it with your telekinesis? Would you rather read Stephen King or Karin Slaughter? Is your skin really ivory, or is it just reaaaally pale? "

"Damn," Greasergal and RobinRocks hissed in unison as Sketch scooped her earnings toward her.