Another fic written around the midnight hour. Only, I'm not all that tired, and I really like this one. No real fluff, for once. Definitely Mary/Marshall, though. Anway, enjoy.


You'd think that taking a long lunch on the balcony, admiring the view with your best friend would be peaceful. But, as Mary Shannon knew all too well, things usually don't work the way you think they will.

At least he's not talking about Back to the Future anymore…

Mary picked up a ketchup packet, but instead of putting some on her burger she stared at it for a moment.

"What? You have some new-found fascination with Heinz 57?" Marshall asked as he chewed on his fries.

"No… I was just wondering why the hell they have a 57 on there. What does the number 57 have anything to do with ketchup?" She turned the packet over in her hand, examining it from all angles as if it would give her an answer.

"Well, Heinz didn't always just make ketchup and other condiments. They were quite big on pickles. The 57 on Heinz ketchup bottles represents the number of varieties of pickles the company once had." Marshall said matter-of-factly, reaching for his soda.

"I don't know what's scarier. You knowing that, or the fact that they had that many varieties of pickles." She stealthily stole one of his fries, having finished hers.

"You're just jealous that I have such an amazing repertoire of random facts." he replied, smacking her hand as she reached for another fry.

"Oh yeah, sure. I'm just so jealous that I can't remember as much stupid shit as you. I think I might kill myself, I'm so jealous." Seeing as Marshall's fries were no longer available, she comforted herself with a bite of her burger.

"Well, if you're gonna do that, today's the day. Statistically, Monday is the most common day for suicide." Knowing that she'd only try again later, he passed her half of his fries.

"Jesus Christ, Marshall. You realize you're on the path to becoming a male version of a lonely old cat-lady, right?" She took the fries gratefully, and in return tossed over one of the apple pies.

"Well, considering that cats on average sleep 16 to 18 hours a day, I'd be a really lonely guy." He pounced on the apple pie, damning the dinner-first-dessert-later rule to hell. If he didn't eat it soon, Mary would snatch it.

"Oh my freaking god. How, no, why do you know all this stuff? Why is it that of all people, you have to have an abnormally large brain?" She also threw away the wait-for-dessert rule.

"Actually, Neanderthals had bigger brains than humans do today." Pie gone, Marshall went back to his fries.

"God, you are such a… Damn, I can't even think of the word." She finished her soda, and began plotting the best way to steal his.

"Oh? Suffering from lethologica, are we?" He saw her shifty eyes, and brought his soda a little closer.

"What?" Damn it, he noticed.

"Lethologica. The state of not being able to remember the word you want." He he he, score one for Marshall.

"Never mind, forget I asked. Next time you plan on having one of your "I'm a trivia genius, bow down to me" moments, warn me, I can either take a nap, or turn the volume on the TV up." She finished off her pie, regretting giving him the other one.

"Now Mary, when have I ever asked you to bow to me? Oh, and for the record, you'll actually burn more calories sleeping than watching TV." He sipped at his soda, smug when she glared longingly.

"Well then, nap it is." Moodily, she attacked her/Marshall's fries.

"Whoa, slow down there, turbo. You can't possibly burn off all those calories in dream-land tonight."

"Bite me."

"Oh, so I take it you don't suffer from odontophobia, then?" He smirked.

"Odonto-what? Wait, no, don't-"

"Odontophobia. The fear of teeth."

Mary put her head down on the table and sighed. "I'm so gonna need therapy because of you."

Marshall smiled slyly. "You know… Women are 37% more likely to go to a psychiatrist than men are. Just saying."

Mary let out a small hysterical laugh, and banged her head against the table.

It was times like these that she seriously considered finding a new best friend.


I got all random facts from this funky little website. It won't let me post the link, but if you look on Google, it's one of the first results. There's some pretty interesting stuff on there. Like my friend Alex's favorite one: Charlie Brown's father was a barbor. Who would've thought, right? And this one isn't on the site, but... Has anyone besides me ever noticed that Captain Crunch's eyebrows...are on his hat? o.O