"I guess. Sounds inconvenient though."

"Like how?"

"Having to light a candle? Without magic? Or being able to turn into a cute baby firebreathing dragon and do it that way? I dunno, just sounds annoying. You must not have scoots either - those are flying vehicles."

"No, we don't have those."

"Or teleportation or - how does your planet even work? I think planets are magic."

"Uh, there's dirt, and plants grow in it, and there's mountains and rivers and oceans...? What about planets would be magic?"

"I don't remember, this was a long time ago, I'm out of school now."

"To the best of my knowledge my planet is not magic." She looks contemplatively at the bar. "Do you do books?"

I certainly do.

"Can you show us whichever of his school books would have explained how his planet is magic?"

"...Is your planet actually a square or is this demonstrating atypical artistic license for a textbook."

"...It's square. I've been to a couple edges. Why? Is yours a circle or something?"

"It's a sphere."

"That sounds inconvenient."

"...How?"

"Well, you could only live right on the top of it, right? It'd have to be enormous compared to a square to give you the same living space. I guess you could sort of build into the sides? Or underground, do you live underground?"

"No one lives underground, so far as I know. But I don't see how an enormous planet is inconvenient."

"So it's big enough that you have enough space on the top of it?"

"Yeah. And that might be how your planet is magic and mine isn't, if sphere-planets can work without magic and square-planets can't."

"Maybe. I guess spheres are pretty simple? But so are squares."

"A sphere is more resilient, though. If you take a piece of clay and make a solid sphere out of it and then you make a square out of the same amount of clay, the square breaks way more easily."

"What's going to break a ten-mile-thick planet?"

"I don't know, I'm not from your world and I'm not a natural philosopher, anyway."

"Well, having a square planet has worked so far."