Title: My Plaid Pants
Rating: T
Genre: Humor
Summary: Roger and Mark have a little discussion about the alluring qualities of the plaid pants and their effect on fangirls. This soon leads to a song. A definish crackfic-esque song.
Notes: This is a parody of a song that is TOTALLY not mine, and it belongs to Lil Mama. Yes, it's Lip Gloss. Don't run away so fast, give it a chance!! :)
"I'm just saying, Roger... you're not EVERYTHING, you know." Mark was saying reasonably. "Plenty of RENTheads are obsessed with me too. Me and my Scarfy." And for effect, he nuzzled the strip of blue and white fabric.
Roger snorted and waved a hand dismissively as the Boho Boys entered the loft. "Something tells me that your close personal relationship with Scarf E. Jones is a little bit of a turnoff to some girls, Mark."
Mark's jaw dropped, astonished. "SCARF E. JONES??"
"Fine, um... Scarfy- whatever-his-fucking-name-is. I forget." Roger mumbled. "SCARFOLAMEW, ROGER!" He shrieked, panicked. "SCARFOLAMEW COHEN!" Roger laughed behind his hand. "Sorry."
"Yeah, you'd better be. And admit it, Roger... me and Scarfolamew have plenty of fangirls."
"You do... there's no denying." Roger stated. "You're popular. Just not as popular as me."
"You?" Mark asked, disbelieving. "Tell me this: what do you have that I don't? And don't say plaid, Roger... I have a fucking plaid coat."
"You don't have plaid pants." Roger said quickly. "That's all it takes, man. One glimpse of those pants and they're smitten. Of course it helps that my face and ass were carved by angels."
"Angels?" Mark asked, making a pfft sound. "Yeah... some mediocre angel artist with a twitchy dominant hand."
"Whatever, Mark, you're only jealous."
"JEALOUS OF WHAT?"
"My plaid. My plaid, me, and how together..." Roger gestured, bringing his two hands together. "... we get more fangirls than you and Scarf N. Stein." "Scarfolamew." Mark growled through gritted teeth.
"Sorry!' Roger said hastily, even though it was clear he said it wrong on purpose.
"What's so great about your fucking plaid pants anyway?" Mark grumbled angrily.
"My fucking plaid pants, " Roger answered. "Are fly. Fresh. Cool. Hip. Sexy. Poppin'."
"Huh?" "They're poppin'?" Mark questioned, floppin' onto the couch.
Roger stood up from where he'd been sitting in the dilapidated armchair and nodded. "Yeah, they're poppin'." And he did a little booty shake to demonstrate the pants and their extreme case of poppin'-ality.
"Roger Davis..." He began to chant aloud, "Yeah they're poppin', they're poppin', they're poppin', they're poppin'. I gotta ask 'em, cuz if i don't... they're poppin', they're poppin', they're poppin', they're poppin'... I don't know. Let's go!" "Oh no..." Mark groaned, sensing something ridiculously crackheaded.
"What you know 'bout me?What you, what you know 'bout me? What you know 'bout me? What you, what you know?"
"That you're a fucking idiot?" Roger shook his head and wagged a finger at Mark.
"They say my plaid pants are cool, my plaid pants be poppin'! I'm standin' at the corner, and all the girls keep stoppin'!"
Mark rolled his eyes. This of course, only encouraged Roger, and he began to circle Mark on the couch as he sang, dancing and half-yelling. "What you know 'bout me? What you, what you know 'bout me? What you know 'bout me? What you, what you know? They say my plaid pants are poppin'. My plaid pants are cool All the floors need moppin' ...'cause I make the fangirls drool!"
"Oh please, half the girls that show up at the theaters are wearing Mark scarves and wanting ME!" Mark protested.
This fell upon selectively deaf ears. Roger, with a little shake of his head, stood before Mark. "Plaid, plaid, sexy ass... yep 'cause I'm perfect. Love the way I wear 'em, fit me tight, the view's worth it. Only get to wear 'em one Act, so I work it...when I walk up on the set, oh, they can't say shit."
And with a dramatic dance move, he added, "Oh, oh, oh, my pants so fine! The way I wear these pants make 'em wanna be mine! Punk, hot, colors in their criss-cross lines, makes little tinglies go down their spines!"
And Mark could only hug Scarfolamew to him in horror. And it was about to get worse.
"What you know 'bout me? What you, what you know 'bout me? What you know 'bout me? What you, what you know? They say my plaid pants are cool, my plaid pants be poppin'. I'm dancing on a table, and all the fangirls are droppin'. What you know 'bout me, what you, what you know 'bout me? What you know 'bout me, what you, what you know? They say my plaid pants are poppin'. My plaid pants are cool! All imitations mockin'. 'Cause only one pair rules!"
"Roger..." Mark cut in. "If you knew how idiotic you sound!"
Roger half-bowed and plugged right onward. "When it's time for Glory, my pants are still the sex. Roger Davis, with the plaid, I'll be lookin' so fresh! To fangirls, indeed, my pants are a virtue! They're lovin' PLAID PANTS UNIVERSAL! Mimi really likes it, the fangirls don't speak, they're rollin' their eyes from jealousy! It ain't my fault, but I can advise you, to tell their boyfriend to wear hot plaid pants like I do!" "Oh God..." Mark exclaimed, exasperated. "Are you done yet?"
Roger shook his head vigorously. "What you know 'bout me, what you, what you know 'bout me? What you know 'bout me? What you, what you know? They say my plaid pants are cool, my plaid pants be poppin'! I'm sittin' singin' Glory, and janitors keep moppin'. What you know 'bout me, what you, what you know 'bout me? What you know 'bout me , what you, what you know? They say my plaid pants are poppin'. My plaid pants are hardcore! All the fangirls keep stoppin' to chase me at stagedoor!"
"AND ME!" Mark put in, frustrated by now. "ROGER! YOU CAN STOP NOW!" Again, those selectively deaf ears of his chose not to hear his roommate's pleas.
"'Cause myyyyy plaid pants... are poppin'! Are poppin'! Are poppin', are poppin'! 'Cause myyyyy plaid pants... are poppin'! Are poppin'! Are poppin', are poppin'!"
Mark stood up, ready to strangle his friend. "ROGER, I swear, this song had better be over, or I'll throw that fucking guitar of yours into the Hudson!"
"Wait, wait, wait! This is the BEST part!" Roger insisted, and continued, without Mark's consent, because he definitely knew he wasn't getting it in any way, shape, or form. "Walkin' down Broadway, lookin' for some trouble. Radames called me on my cell phone on the double. I picked up and answered like, "Yes, Mr. Egyptian?" He's like, "Damn, Rog, don't be such a bitch and tell my where to get plaid pants in my size 'cause I must admit your fangirls' eyes are poppin, are poppin are poppin," He aint kiddin'! And uh,they be lovin 'em, they be they be lovin 'em and uh,they be wantin' 'em, they be they be wantin' em! Or at least wantin' in them, wantin' wantin' in them... in my pants, my pants... my plaid pants!" And Roger danced around the room, modeling his terrific plaid pantalones. In every area of the loft.
"What you know 'bout me? What you, what you know 'bout me? What you know 'bout me, what you, what you know? They say my plaid pants are cool, my plaid pants be steamin'. I'm signin' autographs, got all the fangirls dreamin'. What you know 'bout me, what you, what you know 'bout me? What you know 'bout me? What you, what you know?"
"ROGER DAVIS!" Mark screamed, lunging toward him. Roger ducked, and Mark fell through the air where he'd last been standing, hitting the floor with an oof sound.
Roger laughed and finished with a flourish. "They say my plaid pants are poppin'. My plaid pants are IT. Marky's only jealous, 'cause my pants are the shit!"
Just a short little song parody of crackfic proportions I'd concocted randomly. That was the most crackfic-type-thingy I've ever written. Oh GOSH. :D For the record, I NEVER sing "Lip Gloss" the normal way now. i actually fin the song pretty dumb in its normal fashion. So I sing about PLAID PANTS.
Haaha. I hope you enjoyed. The plaid pants really are poppin'.
(curious) How many of you have ROGERPANTS? Tell me in your review if you do!
'Cause I have a pair of poppin' ones... like, they're amazing.
I got them at a thrift store for a ridiculously cheap price and they've lasted several years!
I wore them when I saw RENT on stage for the first time (on tour), to an Adam concert last fall, and to RENT when I saw it on Broadway during the A&A return.
And let me tell you, MY ROGERPANTS ARE TRULY POPPIN'. Just ask Adam Pascal, he liked them!
Rawr. REVIEWS ARE POPPIN', REVIEWS ARE COOL! (BUT FLAMES ARE NOT POPPIN')