Author's Note: RENT doesn't belong to me in any way, shape, or form.
Summary: Marky is bored and convinced Roger to help him prank-call the girls. Now they are out for revenge!
Warning: Language and the fact that this is a total crack-fic.
Ratings: Kt - T
"Good for you."
"Good for you."
"Mark! I swear to God, I am going to throw you off this damn balcony if you don't shut the hell up!" Roger glared at his best friend over the top of his Rolling Stone magazine. Mark pouted.
"I can't help it! Mimi and Maureen and Joanne and Angel are having a slumber party and Collins went off to get beer, and you're reading and I'm bored."
"You won't be in about ten minutes when you're bandaging your wounds."
"Whatever, Mr. Grouchy Pants," Mark rolled his eyes, earning himself a death-glare from his best friend.
"Fine!" Roger threw down the magazine, "What do YOU suggest we do then, huh?"
"I say we prank-call the girls!"
"What are you, twelve?"
"No," Mark's brow furrowed in confusion, "Why do you ask?"
"Because you're acting like a teenage girl...more so than you usually do."
"You're just a party-pooper!"
"No, I just have better things to do than prank-call the girls. Look, I have some magazines under my bed. I give you my permission to take a few and...entertain yourself. Just please, shut up, and go away!"
"But it'd be funny!"
"You're a moron."
"Then go eat something then, preferably, your own fist."
Mark scowled, got up, and went to the kitchen. He returned with a box of Cheese Puffs.
"What? I'm just eating..."
"No, you're crunching! And it is freakin' annoying!"
"So I can't prank-call the girls and I can't eat? Geesh, you're a suckie roommate. SUCKIE DUCKIE! SUCKIE DUCKIE! SUCKIE DUCKIE."
"Man, you're all kinds of mental, aren't you? I'm locking my bedroom door from now on."
"Pwease what?" Roger asked, knowing he was going to regret his words.
"Pwease prank-call the girls with me."
"Will it get you to shut up?"
"Alright, fine," Roger finally gave in, "Go get the phone."
Mark brought the phone over to the couch and sat down next to Roger, cross-legged.
"Do you want to talk or should I?"
Mark dialed the number of Maureen and Joanne's appartment.
"Excuse me ma'am...I just wanted to ask you if you're nose is running."
"Who is this?"
"Is your nose running?"
"Well...now that you mention it..."
"THEN YOU BETTER GO GET A KLEENEX! BOW-CHICA-BOW-WOW!"
Mark slammed the phone down.
"HA! How epic was that?"
"If you mean epic as in epic fail, then yes," Roger nodded, "it was."
"Then you do it better!"
Roger grabbed the phone and dialed the number.
"Bitch, I swear..."
"Hello? Is this the guy that just called? If so, I have a few words for him..." Roger recognized the voice as belonging to Angel.
"I don't know what you are talking about, ma'am," Roger smirked, he had to admit, this was fun, "I just wanted to call and tell you that...I'M NOT GONNA PAY...I'M NOT GONNA PAY...LAST YEAR'S RENT, THIS YEAR'S RENT...NEXT YEAR'S RENT...RENT, RENT, RENT, RENT, RENT...BOO-YA!"
Roger slammed the phone down.
"You are AWESOME!" Mark raised his hand in an offering of a high-five.
"Don't touch me."
"Okay then," Mark awkwardly put his hand down, "That was so cool."
"I guess so."
"Admit it - you liked it."
"Fine," Roger rolled his eyes, "I liked it."
"Good! I'm going to call again. This time I will pretend I am from a Chinese food place."
"Good for you."
Mark dialed the number.
"Look you little..."
"Did you recently order take-out?"
"Yes, we did actually. Who is this?"
"This is Yu Stin Ki Puh from Fa Kin Su Pah Noodles and Rice."
"You're an idiot. Who is this?"
"Lemme see the phone."
"Mimi...don't be rash..."
"Shut up, Joanne! WHO THE HELL IS THIS?"
"Yu Stin Ki Puh..."
"I SWEAR IF THIS IS MARK I AM GOING TO GO FLIPPING' APE..."
"I no know who this Ma-ka is, but I Yu Stin Ki Puh from Fa Kin..."
"I will show you Fa Kin...I will show you Fa Kin pain when I get my hands on you."
Mark thought now would be a good time to hang up.
"Yu Stin Ki Puh?" Roger raised an eyebrow.
"Google 'LEARN CHINESE IN FIVE MINUTES.'"
"Google? Dude, this is 1989. Google hasn't been created yet. And if it has, we're broke. We don't own a computer. Besides, computers go against ourBohemian lifestyle and our anti-corporate America..."
"Whatever! Look, just go along with it for the sake of the story!"
"Works for me."
"They are going to kill us, you know."
"Nope," Roger put his feet up on the coffee table, "They will kill you. I can deny everything."
"You...you can't! What if they want payback?"
"They don't suspect who it is, do they?" Roger asked.
"Yeah, I think they do."
"What are you doing?"
"Let's blow this Popsicle stand!"
"We can't go anywhere! This is our loft!"
"You're right. We WILL stand our ground. We can't let a bunch of girls scare us off."
"Right. Not even Maureen or Mimi or worse...ANGEL!"
"AHHHHHH!" Both boys screamed in terror.
"Oh they are so dead," Maureen rubbed her hands together excitedly.
"What are we going to do?" Joanne asked nervously, "Why don't we just let it go - you know, be more mature..."
"Mature?" Mimi scoffed, "Jo, this is us here, we aren't going to be mature."
"We aren't?" Joanne asked nervously.
"Nope," Angel giggled, "We're going to get even!"
"Those boys have no idea who they messed with!"
TO BE CONTINUED...