A/N: Okay this fic stems from a fabulous Rentsecret on LJ my friend showed me.Kudos, Kudos (as Alexi Darling would say) to this person who made this. Basically it's a Rent drinking game. So, using the clever mind I am provided with, I decided to write a fic based on most of these points. This is so tongue in cheek, so no flaming please. I'm not sure if I'll continue on with it, unless I get reviews (people enjoy it).The List: tinypic dot c o m /52eh1ld dot gif (To make it work,just fix the spaces in between the words and letters and make sure the 'dot' is actually a dot).
Disclaimer: I don't own the list nor do I own Rent. If I did, that would be amazing, and I would be swimming in money right about now.

"God I'm bored." Roger Davis wiped sweat from his forehead as he leaned back and strummed another note on his guitar.

"Well you could uh, go downstairs and see Mimi…I'm sure she could entertain you, if you know what I mean." The smaller man smirked in reply.

"Very funny."

"Or you could try to write another song again, or go and angst out in your room, or read another newspaper."

"Okay, Mark, I get it."

"OR you could walk around aimlessly, feel sorry for yourself, yell at The Man again, sing some more or--"

"Mark, shut up, you ruin life."

Mark chuckled and sipped some slightly warm water. It was hot, he had to admit, but Roger was slowly getting on his nerves.

"Why don't you go see Maureen? She's probably really lonely right now…Joanne is working some huge trial." Mark finally suggested.

"Why would I wanna see her?" Roger snorted.

"Well….I swear you two could be related."

"Oh I doubt that."

"No no, really. Both of you are drama queens."

"My ass we are. Well she is. I'm not."

"Keep denying it, Rog, keep denying it."

At this point, Mark was pretty sure Roger was about to kill him. Roger had that look.

That crazy-insane-angry-horse-look on him.

Just then, before Mark was scared Roger would neigh at him, their phone rang.

SPEEEEEEEEAK

"OHMYGODMARKYANDROGER,IT'SME,MAUREEN,ANDIHAVESOMEGREATNEWSYOUWILLWANNAHEAR!THROWDOWNTHEKEY!"

"Speak of the devil." Roger smirked and Mark ran over to their window, throwing down the key like they did so many times.

This author wishes she could throw down a key instead of getting up and answering the door. She hopes other writers wish this too.

A few minutes later, a Maureen Johnson strutted into the loft with a bright expression on her face. She held a few papers in her hand and she shoved them towards Roger.

"Guess what!"

Roger struggled to read the papers. If only he would of went back and completed his English classes again.

"What?" Mark and Roger said in unison.

"ROGER AND I ARE COUSINS!"

Le gasp! I will love you forever if you just review. Seriously. Cookies might be provided.
If you are willing to come to Canada. cough