Disclaimer- See previous chapters

Callisto Greene- I have updated!

PrincessEilonwy- Why do you favor Petra, Bean, and Nikolai, but you say Ender and Carn should be punished. What did they do? Well, yes, Petra is the best, but the clerk is demented.

SilverGryphin- Sorry, I've only read Ender's Shadow, so I really don't know the whole story. I think I was thinking about the test scores. Also, I do try to show. I know the pov changes were confusing. So I'm sticking with normal pov now.

Raablyn- You seem to really like this story. I shall use some of your ideas, and yes, I have finally updated.

Chapter 5- The street

"Hey, victims!" The author caught the kids just as they were leaving the terrifying store. "I'm sorry. I did say I would take Bean out, didn't I? Oh well, this way is better. You can all suffer. Besides, you need him to translate. Toodles!" She disappeared with a pop and a puff of sparkly, silver mist.

"Why, why, why does she torment us so? WHY!" Petra half screamed at the pigeons who were flapping directly above the group.

"Uh-oh. Petra. You. Scared. Pigeons. You scared pigeons! You know what that means, don't you?" Carn said in a loud stage whisper.

"Oh. Neh. Sorry about that. May I suggest we… RUN FOR OUR LIVES!" Petra really screamed this time. Unfortunately, Ender and Nikolai did not move fast enough.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" They yelled simultaneously as big, disgusting globs of you-know-what dropped down from the sky.

"Eww. Nikolai, dearest brother, you have, ahem, pigeon you-know-what in your hair. And Ender, you really don't look like much of a commander with you-know-what plastered all over your face," Bean commented.

"Why did I look up? Why orbiting and on earth did I do that? Why? Oh gross! I need a shower. Right now," Ender spluttered through the you-know what.

"Disgusting. I need a shower too. Ick. It is in my hair. And Bean, why did you call me dearest brother?" Nikolai was apparently a bit confuzzled and grossed out.

"Aren't you guys getting the same flood of information on the books as I am? Hmm. The author must believe I'm the only worthy one. Ha-ha!" Bean boasted. The others simply stared. "Oh. You want an explanation. Well, you know the eggs your parents have stored away? Well, they were stolen a long, long time ago. All of us. Then the man had to close down, and all of our other twins were incinerated. But I hid in the toilet and grew up on the streets of this city. So, you are my long-lost identical twin. But there's another thing. We were experimented on, so our lives would shorten and we could gain more knowledge, and so I really don't look like you did when you were my age. Okay, what's the next store?" Bean explained.

"That's a bit, confuzzling. Oh, I'm getting new info too. Ohh. I never come home after the war?" Ender asked.

"Nope. Sorry. Orson Scott Card had to make things sad. Anyways, I'm living up the tale a bit now. I'd be very observant if I were you, for your own good." It was the author again.

"Oh, no you don't, you maniac person. You are suffering the same fate as us! Have a taste of your own medicine!" Carn grabbed the insane author of this fanfic and held on.

"Hey, you can't do that! I'm sorry for the pigeon stuff, okay? Let me go, you stupid commander! Noooo!" The author screamed. Just then, it happened.

"Guys, why are there parrots in Rotterdam?" Petra asked.

"See? This is what I was trying to warn you about! These birds are very territorial, and in your yelling and capturing, we have stumbled into their nesting grounds!" The author was starting to panic.

"They nest in a chocolate factory?" Ender asked.

"Hey, it seemed like a good idea!" The author said indignantly.

"People, the parrots are singing something," Nikolai said. Then the poor, poor characters heard a snatch of the song.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Five terrified voices screamed at the absolute top of their lungs.

"Hey! What's the matter with the song. I like it. It's a classic!" The author pouted.

"WE KNOW A SONG THAT GETS ON EVERYBODY'S NERVES, EVERYBODY'S NERVES, EVERYBODY'S NERVES!

WE KNOW A SONG THAT GETS ON EVERYBODY'S NERVES,

AND THIS IS HOW IT GOES!

WE KNOW A SONG THAT GETS ON EVERYBODY'S NERVES-"

The parrots all squawked. And mind you, there were 999,999 of the parrots, all belting out the song at the top of their lungs, over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over. Of course, everybody ran, leaving only the mad author to appreciate the beautiful music.