This story is based on actual events. For the safety of those involved, names, appearances, ages, genders, locations, time periods and events were all changed to fit Jonathan Larson's characters, which I do not own, blah blah blah, don't try this at home, drink responsibly, be nice to your sister.

What Would You Rather Do?

'Hey, Roger?'

'Yeah?'

'I need your opinion on something, and it's of utmost importance that you answer me honestly.'

Roger looked up from his newspaper and glanced at his friend suspiciously. 'Okay…'

'Alright,' Mark took a deep breath. 'What would you rather do… be buried alive in an ancient tomb, or be eaten alive by a plant?'

'What!'

'Just answer!'

'Why?' Roger demanded. 'Is someone making you choose between being buried alive and being eaten, Mark, because if they are, you should just tell them-'

'No, Roger!' Mark assured him. 'C'mon, it's just a game. Answer. A, buried alive, or B, eaten by a plant?'

'Fine. I choose C.'

'You can't choose C,' Mark groaned.

'Why not?'

'Because there is no C!'

'Well, I made a C up!' Roger insisted.

'Fine,' Mark gave in. 'What's C then?'

'Um… I hadn't thought of that yet.'

'So you didn't make a C up!'

'Fine, fine,' Roger thought furiously. 'C is… I get a car dropped on me.'

Mark pondered this. 'I guess that's fair.'

'But,' Roger continued. 'I get to choose what kind of car.'

'No way!' argued Mark. 'Then you could choose a little toy car or something.'

He read my mind, Roger thought angrily. 'Well, how would this plant eat me? Plants don't have digestive systems!'

'This one does,' Mark answered promptly. 'It's from outer space.'

'Where'd you get this space plant?'

'Uh… eclipse of the sun,' Mark said decisively.

Roger considered this. 'Okay, space plant… now about this tomb... would I be able to breath?'

'Nope. You're buried six feet underground. You'd run out of air.'

'Can I at least have a tank of air?'

Mark sighed. 'Fine. You can have a tank of air.'

'Alright. I choose tomb!'

'Really? You'd rather starve to death in a tomb than quickly die in the mouth of a plant?'

'Who says I'd starve?' said Roger mysteriously.

'Well, you don't have any food.'

'That's what you think. I'd sneak some in, just like I do at the movie theater. Stupid overpriced popcorn…'

'NO SNEAKING FOOD IN!'

Roger started to get upset. 'This is no fair! I didn't do anything to deserve being killed, and yet you're making me choose between being eaten by an alien plant who came down to Earth at the eclipse of a sun- which by the way, doesn't make any sense- and being buried alive in a tomb with nothing but a tank of air? This is the stupidest game I've ever played!' he ranted. 'And furthermore…' he trailed off, seeing Mark's eyes slowly fill with water.

'Mark… don't cry,' he said, as Mark began to sniff. 'Please?'

'I just wanted to play a game!' sobbed Mark, running out of the loft.

Roger stared after him, confused beyond his wildest dreams. He stayed like that for several minutes, before the loft door opened again to reveal Collins with an armful of groceries.

'Hey, man,' the professor said. 'What's up with Mark? I saw him running down the street, crying his eyes out.'

Roger just sighed. 'It's nothing, Collins, really.'

'Whatever you say,' Collins replied and began putting the food away.

'Hey, Collins?' Roger said suddenly.

'Yeah?'

'I need your opinion on something, and it's of utmost importance that you answer me honestly. What would you rather do…?'

FIN!