Author's Note: I do not own RENT. This idea came to me while watching this youtube video. Take a look! I give credit to the youtube video's creator for my inspiration! Enjoy! The song is by Parry Gripp, and you can also find them on the glorious world of youtube.

/watch?v=tDPyPpGSScY#movie_player

Do You Like French Toast

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"What do you mean you don't have anything to eat - look at all this stuff!"

Mark and Roger peered over Angel's shoulder into the refrigerator.

"See!" Angel insisted, "You have eggs, milk, bread, and syrup, and beer and orange juice and...okay, who the hell's Atkins' shakes are these?"

Roger raised a feeble hand, "Mine."

"You're kidding me!" Angel rolled her eyes, "Those things taste like mierda!"

"I have to keep my slim figure," Roger protested, outlining his silhouette.

Angel shot him a look, "Well, according to this, we have everything we need to make french toast. Do you like french toast?"

"YEAH WE LIKE FRENCH TOAST!"

"...Um..."

"Haven't you ever heard that song?" Mark asked, when Angel shook her head, giving him a sideways glance, he continued, "It's by Parry Gripp. Do you like waffles?"

"YEAH WE LIKE WAFFLES!" Roger sang along.

"Do you like pancakes?"

"YEAH WE LIKE PANCAKES!"

"Okay," Angel set the ingredients on the counter, "If you say so. Now get me a fry pan and and a bowl."

"DO YOU LIKE..."

"Mark," Roger interrupted, "We're done. It's over."

"Oh," Mark blushed.

Roger got out the bowl and fry pan for Angel and she got to work.

Quickly, and without any mess, she cracked the eggs with perfection into the bowl, along with the milk.

"Do you have cinnamon or something?" She asked, "Nutmeg maybe?"

"Hold on, let me check," Roger opened up one of the counters, "Maureen took a cooking class once and went food-crazy trying to cook all this stuff. Came close to burning down the building on a few occasions."

"Hmmph," Mark rolled his eyes, "Close is an understatement, "She almost caught my scarf on fire!"

"Do I even want to know how?" Angel asked, Mark shook his eyes.

"Ah-ha!" Roger grabbed two shakers from the cabinet.

"What are you, a pirate now?" Mark asked.

"Pirate?" Roger's brow furrowed.

"Yeah, only pirates say 'ah-ha.'"

"You're confusing that with 'arrrgh.'" Roger corrected.

"Oh. Did you ever find your eye patch?"

"No, I think it's lost for good."

"Eye patch?" Angel cocked an eyebrow, "Do I even want to know THAT story?"

"No," Roger protested.

"YES! Roger had this goofy eye patch he would wear and whenever someone would come over, like the take-out guy, he'd put it on and talk in a British accent."

"Ay, Dios mio!" Angel said, rolling her eyes again.

"That never happened," Roger shook his head defensively.

"He's in denial. Once, this crazy goth chic delivered us Chinese and she thought it was sexy."

"He's a liar!" Roger shouted, "I never...I mean...that's just so..."

"Creepy?" Angel suggested.

"YES!"

The banter died down and Angel began making the french toast.

"Whachya doing?" Mark asked, peeking over her shoulder.

"I am adding the cinnamon and the nutmeg to the egg and milk. See? Now, I am going to take a piece of bread and dip it in, like this, and put it in the skillet. Ta-da! You'll have french toast in no time!"

"YEAH WE LIKE FRENCH TOAST!"

"Mark...if you don't shut that little trap of yours," Angel smiled sweetly, "this batter will wind up on top of your head."

"Uh-oh," Roger eyed Mark with clearly no sympathy.

Mark blushed, shutting up while Angel finished dipping more bread and placing the slices in the skillet. After about ten minutes, the french toast was made.

"Okay guys, grab some plates and have at it."

The three of them stacked their plates high with french toast and smothered their bread, drowning it in syrup.

"Hey, Ang," Roger grinned, "you want some french toast with that syrup?"

"A little sugar now and then never hurt a girl," she batted her eyelashes innocently and Roger snorted.

"What?" Mark asked, causing both Angel and Roger to burst out laughing, "I don't get it."

"Here, let me explain..."

"No," Roger interrupted, "We don't want to corrupt those precious virgin-ears of his with our gutter-minds, do we?"

"I guess not," Angel pouted.

"BUT I WANNA KNOW!" Mark protested.

"Shut up and eat your french toast."

"Do you like french toast?"

"Shut up, Mark," Roger shoveled another bite into his mouth.

"Hey everyone," Collins walked through the door, "What's all this?"

"Do YOU like french toast?" Mark asked.

"YEAH WE LIKE FRENCH TOAST!" Collins shouted back, strolling over to the table, "Hey baby," he gave Angel a kiss.

"Oh no," Angel pushed him off of her, "Not you too!"

"Hey, remember, I did room with them."

"So we did rub off on him," Mark nodded.

"Fabulous," Angel rolled her eyes sarcastically.

"Hey guys," Collins giggled, "Do you like waffles?"

"YEAH WE LIKE WAFFLES!"

"Do you like waffles?"

"YEAH WE LIKE WAFFLES!"

"Can't wait to get a mouthful," Collins sang seductively towards Angel, causing Roger to burst out laughing and her, to slap him on the arm.

"Now THAT one I got!" Mark grinned.

"Do you like pancakes?"

"YEAH WE LIKE PANCAKES!"

"Unbelievable," Angel rose to wash off her plate, "Absolutely unbelievable."

"HEY ANGE!" Collins called over to his lover, "Do you like french toast?"

"Oh what the hell, YEAH WE LIKE FRENCH TOAST!" Angel played along.

Hey, if you can't beat them, might as well join them!

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Author's Note: The link isn't working so just go to youtube and search: "Do You Like Waffles" - Rent Style