Twas summer time. No one ever talks about summer, thought Mark. He stretched out on a threadbare towel on the roof of the apartment. His pale skin showed no signs of becoming any shade but white. Not put off by this, Mark lathered on the sunblock and took off his glasses. When he was little, he always fried ants with a magnifying glass. As he grew older, he wondered why the same idea wouldn't work with one's glasses. Horrified, he'd always taken off his glasses before lying under the sun for a long period of time.
Why do you do that? Came a voice. Mark turned and squinted into the light. Roger. Of course.
Do you have a better idea?
No, but you never tan.
I may. Mark stated, closing his eyes again. He didn't want to talk. He wanted to bask. Roger, as always, was in jeans and a black tee shirt.
No you won't.
Yes, says I. Because I've known you for... what? Ten years? You don't TAN Mark.
Well why do you do that? Mark turned back to face Roger, exasperated.
Wear black in the summer.
Roger shrugged. It never goes out of style.
In the summer it does.
Well excuse me, Miss Coco Chanel.Mark rolled his eyes and flopped on his back again.
Fine. I won't tan. But I want to enjoy the heat. You know, stock up for winter.
Whatever. I'm going with Mimi. She's waiti--
Jesus, what's taking you so long? Mimi said, obviously not waiting inside any longer. Oh, hi Mark... Wow, it's nice up here. Let's stay here. She tugged on Roger's arm. and grinned. Roger sighed.
I'll go get towels... He added, defeated. Mimi looked over the roof. The ventilation system was buzzing in the corner and the floor was covered by pigeon poop.
I know. Mimi drummed her fingers on the railing, feeling rather awkward.
Mark showed no signs of helping her out, so Mimi gave up and enjoyed the view. More over, the view of the office building's cafeteria and the tent city next door.
It's great to see you two getting along so well. Roger said, dropping the towels on the floor. By he means jackets, sheets, that sort of thing. Anything to keep the space between you and the pigeon poop covered.
Roger, I'm not tanning on your black leather jacket. Mimi reacted to what Roger had handed to her
It won't get hot. It's fake leather.
No, it's black. Roger smacked his forehead and spread the black jacket out for him. He didn't like to tan. Unlike Mark, he did tan. He BURNED. And it turned his hair bright yellow, which was not so attractive.
Would you relax? Mimi exclaimed.
I am relaxed.
Like hell you are. Take off you shirt. Mimi said and began to lift his shirt. He pulled it back down again.
Believe me, he turns more crispetty crunchetty than a butterfinger beebee. Mark chimed in, already behind the camera. Mimi snickered to herself, picturing a bright pink Roger.
Shut up Mark. Roger grumbled.
My, this certainly is a CHEERFUL bunch. Came the high pitched voice of Angel. He and Collins were standing at the top of the stairs, both clad in a tee shirt and shorts.
Planning on joining us? Roger inquired.
We would stay on OUR roof but she doesn't like fact that there are buildings around us that are taller. Collins gestured towards Angel.
Nude sunbathing. Collins stage whispered. Roger, Mimi and Mark's eyes grew wide and an expression of vague disturbance crossed their faces.
Um... I think I'll go inside now... Mark choked out.
Oh relax, like I do that. I certainly hope you think I'm more modest than that. Angel took off his teeshirt and shorts to reveal a teeny black speedo. Collins smiled and smacked Angel's behind. He jumped and giggled. Everyone else stared in horror. Just be glad I didn't wear my bikini. Angel slipped on some bright pink plastic sunglasses. The expression of horror deepened.
That was a visual I never needed to see. Ever. Roger said, rubbing his eyes.
Yeah, excuse me, I'm gonna go wash my brain. Mark added.
I'll have you know I made both my bikini and this, he gestured to his bathing suit, or lack thereof, myself. So don't mess with it, I'd like to see you try. He said in an un characteristically cruel manner with a glance towards Mark's briefs. Mark blushed and crossed his legs. Angel smirked and leaned back against the railing while Collins spread out the table cloth. The stretched out on it, holding hands.
Do you two ever let go of each other? Mark asked, taking back his camera.
They both said in unison and kissed each other. Mimi went to slip her hand into Roger's, but he had already moved to the one patch of shade on the roof. She sighed.
All we need now is Maur-- Mark mumbled, before being interrupted by:
God help us all. He mumbled again and filmed their entrance. Maureen was dressed in a string bikini that rivaled Angel's for size. It was shiny purple, of course. Joanne was wearing something more tasteful, a sun hat and a blue one piece.
How ARE you? Maureen asked to no one in particular. Everyone nodded, except for Roger, who was baking alive.
Hope you don't mind that we came to join you. Joanne piped up, setting down a beach bag. Mark had the feeling that even if he did mind, they wouldn't care too much.
Not at all.
It's such a perfect day, do you know I get my best writing done in the summer? Something about the rays of sunlight, they must activate my brain... Maureen rambled on as she claimed a spot. Oh, Angel, I love that bathing suit! Did you make it?
Why thank you, I d-- He started.
Your SOOO talented, I wish I could do that. Instead I'm stuck looking at the bargain basement, Angel shook his head in disgust. Yes, I know. That place is... She looked for a word.
Angel chimed in, rolling his eyes.
Yes, that's it! Mark, why are YOU out here?
Why shouldn't I be? This IS my roof you know.
Well, yeah! But I mean, WHY are you out here? You never TAN! Maureen continued, unphased by Mark slamming his head against the railing. All the years I've known him, he never got one shade darker. Always that albino white. Hell, I'm surprised he's even out of his normal scarf and sweater. He wore that all one summer I remember. That's probably why I love my chocolate goddess, Joanne. She said this as a vague command, implying that Joanne go to her side so she could give her a kiss. She moved from subject to subject faster than a hummingbird on speed. When she finally finished (everyone had blocked her out eventually), no one else wanted to speak. Silence was so... silent.
Collins honey? Angel said at last.
Yes my eggamuffin?
Will you get me Pepsi? He said sweetly. Collins, instead of acting frustrated as any other normal person would, returned the smile and go to his feet.
But of course, my sweet. Angel smirked to the jealous onlookers. Roger, who no one had paid much attention to for awhile, was debating whether or not to continue baking like a potato or to risk wasting valuble cash on sunburn lotion and hair dye... Mimi, who no one else had paid any attention to, was wondering whether or not to beat up Roger and force him to act social. Well, more over she was wondering whether to use her nails or feet when she beat up Roger and forced him to act social.
Here darling. Collins said, that same smile on his face. To anyone else it would seem creepy. Almost like... Disneyland. Angel gave Collins a quick kiss and sipped the drink out of the glass. He promptly spit it out, disgusted.
What's wrong? Collins looked simply crestfallen.
This is COCA COLA! He exclaimed and threw the drink off the roof. Down below, some business man got what he deserved.
But... but they didn't HAVE Pepsi!
Angel shook his head. There are Pepsi people and Coke people. I'm a Pepsi person, a rare breed.
And I suppose this has nothiing to do with Britney Sp-- Mark said quietly.
NO IT DOES NOT! Angel shouted, his face turning a flaming red. Damn, no one was supposed to know about that. he regained his composure and examind his finely manicured hands. You get me a Pepsi or you get me nothing.
I didn't think you could tell the difference... Collins protested.
Never underestimate me, Collins dear.
They taste the same!
Do not. Pepsi is better, Coke has...kick.
I could never tell the difference...
FINE, I'LL GO PROVE IT TO YOU! And he stormed away, making an awful racket as he went down the stairs.
What's with him? Mimi asked once he was out of earshot. Collins shook his head and said:
Dairy Queen... Mooing Syndrome? Roger guessed. He decided he had been quiet long enough.
Drag Queen PMS.
Everyone said. And then came the inevitable: How does that...?
Don't ask. I got smacked when I did. He showed a red handprint on his back. Everyone slinked back in their seats, except for Roger, who came out into the sun and took off his shirt. He had noticed Mimi filing her nails into points.
Good choice. She said to him and showed him her progress. He laughed nervously and took off his jeans as well.
Sexy boxers you have there. Maureen said. They were black. Roger sneered at her and closed his eyes.
Okay n-- Ew... why are you wearing BLACK? Angel said, stopping in his tracks.
THAT'S IT! I WEAR BLACK BECAUSE I LIKE IT! NOW LEAVE ME ALONE! Roger shouted. Angel pouted and began to sob quietly. WOULD YOU RATHER ME DO THIS? Roger dropped his boxers. The full monty. Angel immediatly stopped crying and looked over the rim of his sunglasses, as did Joanne and Maureen. Mimi blushed three shades of red and Collins and Mark closed their eyes.
Not bad... Maureen said in approval. I can see why you stay with him, Mimi.
Now, thank you for that Roger. I needed that. Pull up your pants now. Joanne said calmly. Roger looked increduolously at everyone. He had just dropped his pants! Did no one CARE?
See now, I am the Pepsi master. Angel said, pushing his glasses back up his nose and turning to Collins.
It's okay, Roger. Mimi said and patted him on the back. He pulled up his boxers.
Be glad no one cares. Mark said, deciding it was hightime for him to add his two cents. Roger sat down on the floor.
He said. So what'd you think?
Oh come on, you know you looked.
No, no I didn't!
Yes you did. Admit it Mark, you can tell me. You were intimidated by my manhood, weren't you?
You're impossible, you know that? Mark flipped off his camera, he didn't exactly want to film this witty repartee.
Collins said. He had been blindfolded in the last, oh, thirty seconds. Maureen, Joanne and Angel were observing as he tried to guess which bottle of soda he was drinking.
Oh COME ON! Angel shouted, frustrated. Collins began to panic.
Uh... um... Pepsi?
NO! GAWD! Angel grabbed the soda from his hand, spilling more than half of it in the process. Collins was now on the verge of tears. I'll SHOW you. Angel put the blindfold on himself. Joanne and Maureen decided on which bottle and handed him the coke bottle.
Coke. Duh. Angel said immediatly after sipping the soda. Maureen and Joanne looked at each other, impressed. Angel took off the blindfold. See, it's not that difficult. Collins wasn't listening to Angel. Collins wasn't listening to anyone. Collins was standing on the railing, debating whether or not to commit suicide because he could not please his lover. He could not tell the difference between Coke and Pepsi. Hari Kiri was the answer.
Oh would you RELAX? Angel grabbed his wrist and pulled him off the edge. You know I love you anyway. You're just not as highly trained as I am. And they proceeded with their favorite activity. Well, what else do you expect them to do? Play scrabble? I think not.
Meanwhile, everyone else had laid back on their towels, or their hideously ugly black jackets.
They were all enjoying the sun quite a bit, Roger and Mimi even fell asleep. Mark, being the Mark type of person he is, took his sunscreen and wrote deep dark secrets of Roger's on Roger's back (there was no right way to say that). Maureen, eager to join in this because Maureen is also a Mark type of person, wrote: Kiss me, I'm recovered' and any little things she knew. Joanne, ashamed to be seen with people like this, took a sudden interest in the pigeons on the roof. Collins and Angel joined the mile high club. Well no, not really, but I'm not sure what else to call it. It was a tall building, close enough. Mimi slept soundly on.
Hey Roger... Mark said, trying not to snicker.
Roger said sleepily. Mark turned to Maureen who egged him on. Grinning like an idiot, he smacked Roger's back right where it hurts. The Sunburn.
Roger shrieked. Maureen and Mark fell on top of eachother in fits of laughter. Joanne shook her head and yet again concentrated on the pigeons. Even Angel and Collins broke apart for long enough to see what was going on. Roger screamed and flailed and carried on for about five minutes before collapsing in a rather hot pile next to Mimi. Mimi looked around, utterly confused. Her boyfriend had just run around like a chicken and Mark and Maureen weren't fighting. What was going on?
Roger offered a whimper in response. What... the hell... just happened?
He.. heehee.. and the... Mark gasped.
So we... ahahahahaha... and... Maureen tried to assist, but failed miserably, ending up just gesturing to his back.
Um Roger... Mimi said, reading the various phrases. You might want to put your shirt back--
Aw... Woger has a widdle stuffed puppy... Angel chided. Somehow beating the whole space-time continuum he had made it over behind Roger before Mimi could finish her sentence.
It's cawed Cuddles... AWWWW Collins cooed appropriately.
EW! I'm not sure I wanted to know that. Angel prodded a spot on Roger's back, ignoring Roger's sounds of agony completly.
How about this one?
AHAHAHA! THAT'S GREAT! I have to remember these... for... future reference.
You know, I don't think I wanted to know this much about Roger. Joanne had now joined in the fun. It wasn't because she wanted too, mind you, it was more of a compulsory thing. She had too. Mimi contemplated for a moment about what her role should be in this. Mostly because I haven't decided. Should she HELP Roger, or force him to suffer? Hmm... decisions, decisions. At long last she decided she would have to move, if only to administer CPR. Mimi shooed them away and then quicklypulled the shirt over Roger's head.
Roger screamed. Again. Because that's what Roger does. I HATE YOU!
Mark pointed to himself, honestly perplexed. But... you can't hate me!
YES I CAN AND I DO! Roger jumped to his feet and loomed over Mark. Even though a large pink creature with hair the shade of a taxi cab (an ugly one) was the one casting a shadow over him, Mark still quaked in his boots. Except, he isn't wearing boots. He quivered in his briefs.
I... Don't... I'm Sorry... He stammered. Roger fumed, if he could turn any redder, he would. Stoopid Mark, he always got his way.
Ah, the sweet sound of a lover's spat. Angel commented from behind Mark's camera.
AND YOU! Roger turned his free flowing rage to the next living creature. I HATE YOU TOO!
Angel, yet again, pouted and whimpered. W-why me?
Roger paused. Um, well gee. BECAUSE YOU'RE A BITCH!
An expression of puzzlement crossed Angel's face between choked sobs. TAKE YOUR MIDOL AND GET ON WITH IT!
Maureen, meanwhile, was sitting in a corner chuckling to herself. DON'T GET ME STARTED ON YOU! Everyone anticipated the inevitable Mimi argument. But it never came. Roger just stormed away. Mimi blinked a few times. Had she actaully... avoided an argument? OH WOW!
Well, that was a riproaring good time. Now who's up for twister? Maureen said, clasping her hands together.
A shocked Mark inquired.
Maureen opened her bag and drew out, with a flourish, a twister game. I never go anywhere without my Twister!
I can vouch for that. Joanne muttered. No one listened. It's Joanne, she doesn't talk that much. It's like Collins, they both play along with their respective others and that's their lot in life.
Right. I'm game. Angel said. He had fully recovered from Roger's little outburst. He didn't dwell on things like that, too... boring.
Because it's summer Mark. People do things like that in the summer. Maureen said, rolling her eyes.
Oiy vay... Mark buried his head in hands and spun the dial. RIGHT HAND BLUE! NO ANGEL, COLLINS ISN'T BLUE! Why don't you two do something else?
A/N: Whee, that was fun. Funny? Yes? No? Any kind of vague idea would be good... like in a review..... **nudge nudge wink wink**