Millennials are the worst. They are entitled, narcissistic children who cannot function even the slightest bit in the real world. They demand a room full of trophies for every quirk they exhibit, and they will slap you in the face if you do not compliment them.

At least, that’s what I learned from the internet.

In reality, it’s not that difficult to work with millennials. As one myself, I thought it would be helpful to include a guide to dealing with them, dispelling some myths and spreading more accurate information about what’s been pejoratively labeled the “Me me me” generation. So I present here some Frequently Asked Questions, a guide to millennial life.

Q: How old are millennials?

A: Younger than you, but if you look in their eyes you’d think they were old enough to have died twice. Just know that they are younger than you and hungrier than you and not quite sure what they are hungry for.

Q: What do millennials use Snapchat for?

A: To be honest, exactly what you think. They coordinate there in 10-second fragments. A plan of attack seems an ungraceful way to phrase their communications, but both plans and attacks are involved, in addition to jokes, quips, insults, prayers, curses and targets.

Q: How many millennials are there?

A: So many. More than you’d like there to be. Enough to crawl into the corners of your dreams, but not enough to turn them completely into nightmares.

Q: Is it true that all millennials can unhinge their jaws and breathe in deeply with a truly hellish noise and suck out my soul if I do not have a Snapchat account?

A: No, of course all millennials can’t do that. Only about 40 percent were granted soul-sucking powers, and most of them would most likely abstain from such a complex venture with so little payoff. Forcibly extracting a physical manifestation of your spiritual self from your body is exhausting. The effort would not be worth it for something as small as your soul. They want all of you.

Q: Are they trying to hurt me?

A: Well, yes and no. They don’t want to cause you any physical pain; that would be too easy. Anyone can break a leg or a strategic blood vessel. If a millennial wants you to hurt, she will make you hurt from the inside, smudging the lines between the way you see yourself and the way you see monsters, until every time you look in the mirror you can’t help but flinch.

Q: Am I in danger?

A: We’re all in danger, aren’t we? A cartoon piano could fall from the ceiling and squash your little cartoon body, arms and legs bulging as your center is flattened. A fish could swallow you whole. A millennial could try to wipe your sense of identity off the face of the Earth, until no one remembers you, until remembering you is an unnatural act, until the sound of your name brings only screams of incomprehension because now there’s a name for the ruinous void we try not to think about, and the name is your name.

Q: Why me?

A: Because you’re the one asking the questions.