"So that's when Dad made me get Water Stones for Lombre," Mr. 1 went on.

He had joined Miss All Sunday and Miss Valentine in the editing room. In his words, he "didn't want to be alone right now."

"And then what?" Miss Valentine asked, holding back her tears.

"I went down the well and saw this little girl, right? She said I would die in seven days. So I had to go to Vegepunk's home and ask the great scientist himself to invent the VCR and make these tapes."

"Go on."

"..."

"..."

"Well, he made me do...things. Horrible, horrible things. Needless to say, the things he did are what make me wake up at night screaming."

"Really?"

"No, a lot of other things make me wake up screaming. Like, when I came back, Dad yelled at me for not getting the Water Stones! And when I showed them to him, he gave them to Lombre and had it attack me!"

"Oh no!"

"And after that incident...I kept my hair cut and shaved. No way I'm going to let it be bitten off again."

"Do you want a hug?"

"No..."

"...?"

"...Yes..."

"Dear Pluton!" Miss All Sunday snapped. "Let's just stop with this character derailment and get to something serious. We need this money to fund our take-over."

"Dear Miss Snippy wants to take a fanfiction seriously!"

"Fanfiction?"

"Alright, let's interview the next person. Who is it?"

Mr. 4 was sitting atop the remains of the chair, which had shattered under his weight.

Name: Mr. 4 (Not Important)

Age: 44?

Favorite Movie: The Ugly Dachshund (Yes, that's a real movie)

Likes: Dogs and pizza

Dislikes: Speed and thinking

"Dachshunds are cute!" Miss Valentine said wisely. She was damn right.

"That's the smartest thing you've said today," Miss All Sunday said. "Kind of sad, really."

"It's not nice to put people down, Miss," Mr. 1 said quietly.

"Uuuuuuuuuhhh..." Mr. 3 said.

"I'll have to use fast-foreword on him," Miss Valentine said. "You told him what he should say, right, Mr. 1?"

"Yep: old him to talk about his interests, what he wants in a person-"

"You don't have any chocolate on you, do you?"

"...uuuuuuuuuuh like a puuuuuuuurrsssssssoooooooon whooooooooooooooo liiiiiiiiiiikes ," Mr. 4 said.

"..." was all Miss All Sunday had to add.

"Oh yeah!" Mr. 1 exclaimed. "When I didn't do my homework fast enough, my dad would yell at me and get the belt. And Mom...Mom just stood there."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"And then she sold my story with Vegepunk and it was made into a movie! Ringu made it big and I never saw a Belli for it! Dad said it was my fault for being cursed. I showed him when I ate my Devil Fruit, I sure did..."

"Pressing fast-foreword!" Miss Valentine announced. "Double-F, engage. Thrusters, foreword!"

"I have a dream of becoming a pizza delivery person," Mr. 4 said. "I enjoy watching iCarly and musicals. I'm slightly ashamed for having only recently learned how to count up to four, but I'm learning."

"What?" Miss Valentine gasped. "Is he really that stupid?"

Mr. 1 turned his arm into a blade, aimed it at her and said, "Hey, he may have a mental disability for all you know! It's not nice to make fun of people for having disabilities, you know? Or, what if I laughed at you for having a dead mother? Yeah, I know! And I bet you don't feel so good about it now, do you?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Woah," Miss Valentine said simply.

"I'm just saying," Mr. 1 responded.

"But...woah."

"I took baseball when I was about nine," Mr. 4 continued. "Back then I was known for my speed and ultra-muscular body. Then I was hit by a baseball and woke up 4 weeks later in a coma. Supposedly, the lack of exercise left my body ruined. But my baseball coach was there to coach me. I would have given up if not for him."

"How inspirational," Miss Valentine said, clasping her hands together. "He's like all those East Blue people who help the fish-people overcome their differences and become better students."

"You never see the Angel-people in those movies," Mr. 1 said clearly.

"The what?"

"You know, those people from the sky, the people with wings."

"There's no such thing!"

"Yes, there is!"

"Prove it then."

"I will!"

Mr. 4 went on. "He would make me run laps late at night, after practice when all the other boys and girls went home. He also made sure I had a snug uniform - he did the measurements himself!"

"This doesn't sound like it's going to have a happy ending."

"Not that happy ending," Miss Valentine said. "Maybe the one you get from a masseuse-"

"Miss, that's not funny."

"What?"

"This could be a serious issue we're dealing with."

"Lighten up - it's a fanfic, it's being played for laughs!"

"What's so funny about abuse? Only a sick freak would laugh at someone in Mr. 4's position, or about someone wetting the bed."

"You bleeding heart, lighten up! Get ti, lighten up? Because I can control my weight.

"Oh, yes."

Both Mr. 1 and Miss Valentine shared a hardy laugh. Miss All Sunday was now face-palming.

"And also, I wet the bed," Mr. 4 added happily.

"Oh yeah." Mr. 1 smiled. "I can see how that could be hilarious. Tee-hee!"

"We didn't laugh when you confessed," Miss Valentine said. "Dude, not cool. We may have been playing bad things for laughs and barely getting away with a T rating, but we never laughed at someone's misfortune."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...We really ran out of ideas, didn't we?"

"Well, we have a few gags that really get into darker territories of humor. We could save 'em for Mr. 2, or..."

"..."

"..."

"Where's my chocolate? Have you seen Mr. 5?"

"Oh yeah, he's in his room, eating a box of candy."

"I'm hoping to meet someone who can really take a hit, and likes to receive," Mr. 4 said. "And I mean it in every way you can think of."

"Who's next?" Miss Valentine asked.

"Perverts," Mr. 1 responded, holding up a sheet of paper. "Nothing but perverts."