Disclaimer: Don't own RENT or anything related to it. Wish I did, lalalala… most of the idea behind this story came from a random conversation about blue foods that I had with Breathe From Your Hoo Hoo. She wrote the majority of this, so KUDOS to her. Haha. This is a multichap, people.

One fine December morning, when the clouds were lighter than the air itself, and the hot sun poured through the windows of the loft and birds sang to celebrate the joy of the new season, Roger the dark, brooding, 28-year-old emo rock star woke up to a very strange sight. Firstly, he was crashed on the couch, not in his bed. Secondly, he was wearing a pink tank top, black lacy shorts, black fishnets and black pumps, not his regular moldy green sweatshirt and sexy, tight plaid pants. And thirdly, there was a very strange smell that seemed to infiltrate the whole loft. He slowly sat himself upright and rubbed his eyes. And then he looked around the room for his friend Mark, whom he didn't see anywhere, so instead of quietly peeking into his bedroom like normal people, he yelled, "MAAARRRKKK!!! ARE YOU HERE???"

A loud thud could be heard from one of the rooms, followed by, "Holy shit, Roger!! What the hell are you trying to do, wake the dead?!?."

Moments later, out of Roger's bedroom stumbled a skinny white blond Jewish boy – dressed in a black corset, red lacy shorts, black fishnet stockings, black boots, and black lacy gloves. The two of them looked at each other in shock and confusion. Roger frowned.

"C'mon Mark! Quit clownin' around! I need to know exactly how we ended up in this state", he huffed as he kicked off his pumps and tried his best to free himself from his fishnets. Unfortunately, he fell flat on his ass and ripped a giant hole in them.

"But why, Roggy?? Don't you like our cute clothes?" Mark admired himself in the mirror at how thin and leggy his boots made him look. He quietly hummed "These Boots Are Made For Walking" under his breath and looked at his reflection when he suddenly noticed blue on Roger's form. Mark look at him. "Roger? What's that long, blue thing on you?"

Roger looked down...and saw a long, blue banana-shaped object stuck to his lacy shorts. He looked at it quizzically. "Hey, what's this? And how did it get stuck to my shorts?" Mark blinked and gulped guiltily.

"I, uh...um...I think I might know."

Flashback

Last night...

"Oh Rog, this is so exciting!! I can't believe we're finally going to a midnight screening of the Rocky Horror Picture Show!!!" said Mark excitedly. He carefully inserted his foot into his black fishnet stocking and slowly pulled it up his leg, just like Maureen taught him. Roger couldn't help himself, and he doubled over, laughing. Mark pouted.

"YOU'RE MEAN!" Mark exclaimed. Roger shrugged and went to the fridge.

"Mark, you want a beer?" Roger asked. Mark pondered for a moment and then zipped up his boot.

"Yes please!" Mark exclaimed. Roger grinned an evil grin and took two beers out of the fridge. He then walked into Mark's room and stood in the doorway.

"MARK! THINK FAST!" Roger exclaimed, chucking the beer at the pumpkin head's face. Unfortunately, Mark was incapable of thinking fast, and the beer ricocheted off Mark's forehead and hit the wall and combusted, narrowly missing Roger's thigh. Mark glared and Roger smiled like an innocent little kid.

"Sorry, Markydoodles." Roger said apologetically. Mark sighed and got up and walked towards his drawer.

"I'll forgive you on ONE condition." Mark said, shuffling through his drawers. Roger raised his eyebrow and leaned against the doorframe.

"Wazzat?" Roger asked. Mark grinned and pulled out a purple tank top, black lacy shorts, black fishnets and black pumps.

"You wear these," Mark said, shoving the articles into Roger's arms "To the Rocky Horror Picture Show." Mark grinned an evil grin and Roger gave a look of horror.

"NO WAY! I AM NOT WEARING PURPLE! IT CLASHES HORRIBLY WITH MY HAIR AND EYES!" Roger screeched. Mark sighed and rummaged through his drawers again. He pulled out a pink tank top and held it up for Roger.

"Is this better?" Mark asked. Roger smirked.

"Definitely." Roger said, snatching the tank top from Marks hands and eagerly slipping it on over his green T-shirt. Mark rolled his eyes and pulled up his other boot. He zipped up the zipper on his boot and then stood in the mirror, admiring himself. He turned around to get a better look at his behind, and then he frowned.

"Roggypoo!" Mark whined. Roger slipped off his pants and put the black lacy shorts on.

"Yeah?" Roger asked. Mark turned to look at his roommate.

"Do these shorts make my ass look like a turnip?" Mark asked. Roger sighed.

"No, they make your ass look like a strawberry marshmallow." Roger replied. Mark sighed in relief. "Thank god." He muttered under his breath. Roger stopped getting ready and glared at Mark.

"What do you have against turnips?" Roger asked. Mark bit his lip.

"It's not that I have something against them. It's just, my uncle was a vegetarian, and when he died, there was a huge turnip at his funeral." Mark explained. Roger raised his eyebrow.

"Don't you mean turn up?" Roger asked. Mark grinned and started applying his over done makeup that could put Angel to shame with the glitter and whatnot.

"Nope, turnip." Mark said, like it was the most obvious thing on earth. Roger pretended to understand what Mark was saying, and then he got up and admired himself in the mirror. He smirked and started humming the tune to 'I'm too Sexy.' Mark couldn't help himself and he started laughing like a hyena. Roger glared at him and picked up his man purse.

"You ready to go?" Roger asked. Mark grinned and picked up his own man purse.

"Ready!" Mark exclaimed, skipping to the front door.

Le fin

Moo! REVIEW AND WE SHALL GIVE YOU HORNY LITTLE PUMPKIN HEADS!