The first class met in a dead standard laboratory classroom, with Bunsen burners before each student and running water at each of the long tables. The teacher leaned against his desk, face unreadable as his eyes evaluated each student.

After the students were assembled, Tyler began to talk.

"So this is Chemistry for Anarchists, where you guys will learn 15 ways to blow up a 7-Eleven using only what's in the store. I'm not going to tell you to blow up a 7-Eleven; I'm also not here to shake my finger at you and tell you not to. This class is for your information.

"My name is Tyler Durden. Call me Tyler, call me Mr. Durden, whatever works. Looks like about five of you would know me from when I was here as a student." And here he glanced at Jamie first, then at Dean, Katara, Rikku, Sokka assuming they're all there and I didn't forget anyone. "That's fine, it's great to be back. Just remember I'm not one this time.

"Your mission this week is making soap. It's a basic project -- rendered fat, lye, cold water and that's it. You can add scents or color if you want to. Supplies and directions are at the workstations. Lye's nothing to screw around with." He held up one hand, showed a mottled roundish scar on the back. "This is what happens if you get lye on your wet skin.

"And the reason we start with soap? Because one of the byproducts of soap-making is glycerin." He held up a container of the clear, slippery stuff. "You can mix it back in. Makes nicer soap, makes your skin soft. Or you can add nitric acid and get nitroglycerin. That is the kind of fact we love in this class.

"But before we start on the soap, we have to do that introductions thing. Name, age, why you took the class, and" -- he smiled for the first time -- "who you would fight out of anyone, living or dead. Fictional figures included."

He left unspoken his need for a TA. He figured the introductions would let him know who he wanted.