A humorous fic of all my favorite characters in every show/movie I've ever seen, but the main character is Mahone of Prisonbreak...of course. This is my first time trying to write a humor fic, so reviews will be helpful!

I do not own Prisonbreak..or any other shows for that matter. I'm poor you see...

Mahone stepped into the out-patient clinic with the words " Narcotics Anonymous" written with a friendly hand above the door. Sighing he slided his feet around as if unsure about going in.

Dear God...why did I get caught? Of all the days to get caught, why did it have to be TODAY? I was SO close to getting Scofield, so close...and now I'm screwed up and put into this weird group thing for junkie losers. You know what? I'm not a loser...I'm in law enforcement!

Smiling confidently he sauntered to his group meeting, and within five minutes the session had begun.

" Guys, I want you all to introduce yourselves PEACEFULLY...peace is fun isn't it? We should all have peace in our lives shouldn't we...I'm rambling aren't I?

(awkward silence)

The group leader stood up and adressed Mahone with a musing eye. " Why don't you go first Mr Mahone? You seem to have a NICE history with tranquilizers I hear."

The rest of the room snickered.

" Hey, I'm not as screwed up as you people! I'm cool and I know how to dance!

" Oh wow, looks like we have yet another idiot that doesn't know how to think...tell me, did you get abused when you were a youngling?" said a grey haired man with a dull brown cane in his right hand.

Mahone growled ferociously and retalitated, " You don't want to go there, you DO NOT want to go there..."

" Or what? You'll bite me?" laughed the man with the cane.

" No I'll shoot you DUH." Mahone grinned evily.

The group leader rose his voice and said, " Guys, we must be peaceful in our accusations..."

"As I'm sure you would know Dr Wilson," muttered the man with the cane.

" Excuse me, I wasn't the one to get hooked on pain medication and lied to countless people and of course you freaking HARASS a detective because you were HIGH and looking for a flipping FIX all the time and good God House! You just HAD to abuse the privledge of always being right didn't you?"

House banged down his cane and took in a nice huge breath...

" Oh here we go again with the yelling..." sad Dr Wilson throwing up his hands, bored as hell with House's antics.

Mahone sat utterly confused. What was this all about? Why didn't HE have the spotlight...it was his story after all.

" I'm in pain you moron! Why don't you go back to your numerous ex wives and cry at their doorsteps? Yeah why don't you...you don't have a life anyway, you're a BASTARD Wilson!" screamed House.

Wilson sputtered and bit his lip. " Why must you hurt me House?" A tear slid down his cheek as he hastily wiped it away.

" Oh, did I hurt the poor doctor's feelings? Should I give him 2 CC's of morphine so he can stop crying FOREVER! MWAHAHA!"

House laughed insanely at how cunning he was and gave himself a nice pat on the back for a job well done.

Wilson ran away, sobbing into his shoulder with every gasping breath.

"Sooooo...now what?" pondered Mahone. Man, he really itched for something to hold him over...until he got more tranquilizers...

House stared off into space, his eyes going in and out of focus at Mahone's face.

Mahone asked with a puzzled expression," Hellooo, what are you staring at? Oh no...do I have a pimple on my nose?"

House broke out of his phycotic break and busted out laughing at Mahone's displeasure. Mahone pouted and folded his arms, anger spewing from every open pore on his face.

" Dude, who are you? You're freaking HILARIOUS!" gasped House, rolling on the floor clutching his sides.

Mahone frowned and announced, " I am the greatest F.B.I agent this side of the Mississippi, that's who I am!"

House stopped laughing reluctantly and sat up, rubbing his bum leg as if it hurt to laugh in such a manner. " Hey, aren't you that guy who's trying to find those guys? You know..those escaped convicts? And aren't they still out there?" clicked House, snapping his fingers sarcastically. " Yeah, really nice, you are SUCH a good cop. And how did you end up in New Jersey, may I ask? Looking for a new hooker after the other one dumped you?"

Emotional pain hit Mahone as he thought of his love, Pam, sitting with his son wondering where his daddy could be. After that horrid phone call from Sona, and then...on the run from the prison in Panama to Princeton Plainsburo Teaching Hospital in New Jersey. Such a long way from home...Mahone almost wished he could click his heels three times and then POOF, he'd be back in Pam's arms once more...but he really loved the pills more than her. Not even a day had passed when he arrived in New Jersey when he started seeking out a new dealer for his pill bottle. And that's when he heard that Scofield (the one he broke out of Sona with) was in New Jersey, in the exact same town as him, and boy did Mahone want him...You see, when Mahone is on a trail, he never quits until whoever he is hunting for is, well, dead. Even though Scofield and Mahone were buddies in Sona, the hunt never ended, and Mahone wanted the hunt to finally be over. So Mahone turned into a maniac, running down the streets shouting " I'll get you Scofield, come and get me you bastard chicken!" and soon Mahone was found behind bars once more, all thanks to the rude detective named Tritter who he accidentally shot in the ass.

" Dude, are you alive man? Should I call the other greatest F.B.I agent in the world, or should I just sit here, stoned? Because I'm not getting up to save yet another life..."

In a daze, Mahone swirled out of his fantasy and said, " Well what about you Mr. House? How did you get here?"

" Oh, my boss told me she'd fire me unless I went into rehab..which is a useless threat because I can just flutter my BEAUTIFUL eyelashes at her and she'll just fall over at my amazing beauty...and I like my job. It's so fun to torture poor innocent doctors with my wits..."

Mahone looked at him like he was crazy and fingered the gun on his belt, considering the qeustion...to kill or not to kill? (and who knows how he got the gun past Tritter...he's just magical that way).

The rest of the group members ( a bohemian hooked on meth, a young boy with a lightning bolt scar suffering from depression and a drag queen who is gay and wants to be loved) were sleeping or glancing at the clock muttering about being late or something along those lines. House and Mahone fell silent as they thought of something stupid to say that wasted time, when suddenly the door opened and in walked...

Michael Scofield.

So, what should I do? Ditch it or continue? I have a feeling that it's gonna turn from humor to angst in some sort of way, so be warned! Please review..I need the advice!