"Yes, Em, I'm sure," Music4evah groaned.

"Really? Everyone is going to hate you."

"I know. And I. Don't. Care. They already hate me. If they didn't, they wouldn't write such abominable things."

"They're probably rather confused at the moment, Muse. They have no idea what we're talking about."

Muse sighed and sat up a little straighter. She had previously been sitting at her desk in her studio, slumped in her seat, talking to Em, who sat across from her. Muse ran a tired hand through her messy hair, due to sleepless nights and excessive banging of her head on her desk. At least the head ache had receded when Em gave her some pain killers.

"Listen up, everybody," she addressed those reading her story. "You're in for a bit of a shocker."

Em nodded. "Yup. Although Butler was rather grateful when it turned out we wouldn't be needing him after all. Or Holly."

"Alright then. Here it is." Muse took a deep breath. "I'm not continuing this story."

And gasps and curses and questions and moans and groans and other such things were heard from the readers. Muse and Em plugged their ears until it stopped, which was a long time. 17 minutes, to be exact.

"These readers can be such a hassle," Muse groaned. "Really, I just want them to leave me in peace..."

"Maybe you should tell them why you're stopping this story?" Em suggested.

Muse nodded. "Right. Well. I know you all love this story, which is beyond my comprehension. But I hate it. With a fiery passion. This is the most death- I mean fan- mail that anyone of the 39 Clues characters have gotten. The Holts were pretty ecstatic about that, but when I told them that most of it was about if Hamilton like Amy, if Reagan/Madison liked Dan, and that the rest was basically a list of insults in the form of questions and embarrassing dares, they weren't too excited. They agreed that they didn't feel up to answering it. Well, I made them agree. If they really wanted to, I still wouldn't let them. They're fictional characters. They can't hurt me. I honestly don't feel threatened by them in the least bit."

Em snickered. There had been a few reviewers who had threatened Muse with such things. Neither she nor Muse really meant offense to those who used them, but...Well, yeah, on the other hand, they sort of did.

"Anyways," Muse continued. "I know you'll all beg me to continue this, and I'm being sort of hypocritical, seeing as someone just stopped a truly amazing and hilarious story. 'This Means War', a PJO fic by Riptide Anaklusmos. Go yell at her and tell her that her stories are genius. But anyways. I know you'll all be very angry with me for dropping this story. But you have no idea how much I hate and despise this! So sad, too bad, not really..." Muse trailed off. "Well, anyways. Flames will be used to roast marshmallows. Now, Em, let's go get some ice cream and celebrate the death of this horrible story!"

Em agreed, and together, the left the mostly empty studio, glad that they never had to deal with the death- Ahem, fan- mail ever again. At least, for the moment, until those hateful reviews started trickling in...