Dr. Martinez: "I take it you don't want me to call your parent?" Max: "Uh, no." Hello, lab? May I speak to the test tube please?

A classroom . People trying to stick me in classrooms was becoming as predictable and annoying as people trying to kill me, but with less-fun results.

I did know that the book would end with a mind-boggling trial, but I didn't know exactly how it would turn out. I like a little suspense when I am writing, too.

We went back to the weird Institute building. At night there was a lot more activity. Erasers coming in non-stop. Nice cars, nice clothes, nice smug faces (that I wanted to smash!). -Fang's Blog

Knowledge is a terrible burden. It may help you, but it might also destroy you.

Tell me again what we're doing here," I said, running a continuous scan of our surroundings. Fang popped some Cracker Jack into his mouth. "We're here to watch manly men do manly things." I followed Fang's line of sight: He was watching the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, who were not doing manly things, by any stretch of the imagination.

I whirled around and saw no one. No psychotic mad scientists, anyway. "Jackpot, Max! Jackpot!" It was was Fang, and he was giggling hysterically. For those of you just joining us, Fang doesn't giggle. Especially hysterically. So for a second, this seemed like one of the weirder dreams of recent days.