Please. They're Like The Cult Of Four.

The Candor Sing The Praises Of The Truth, But They Never Tell You How Much It Costs.

My Name Is Four,” I Say. “call Me ‘stiff’ Again And You And I Will Have A Problem.

Someone Shouts, "enough!" And I Think Too Much And Nothing At All.

We Don't Know What's Happened Out There Since They Put Us In Here, Or How Many Generations Have Lived And Died Since They Did.we Could Be The Last People Left.

Looks Like Someone Had A Mood Swing.” She Rolls Her Eyes. “like You Don’t Want To Know What His Fears Are. He Acts So Tough That He’s Probably Afraid Of Marshmallows And Really Bright Sunrises Or Something.