A/N: Okay, so I know it's been about a month since I but up the first part of this story, but my computer broke and I was without one for a few weeks. Blah. Anyway, I finally finished this part, but when I was writing it it realized that there is potential for a short chapter story...let me know what you think and enjoy! OH! omg! I saw Adam and Anthony in RENT a couple of weeks ago...best day of my life! SIGH! okay...I'm done now...
Disclaimer: Still don't own anything.
"My turn!" Angel gleefully announced, her words slightly slurred.
The group had been playing "Never Have I Ever" for a while by then, and were all in varying states of drunkenness. Joanne, by far, was the most sober since she hadn't done anywhere near the type of crazy thing her friends had done. At the opposite end of the spectrum, Mark could be considered "wasted". Actually, Mark was really the only one who could be considered drunk. The others took great delight in purposefully saying things that they knew Mark would have done.
Collins picked up the bottle of tequila and shook it. "Umm, Ang?" he said with a smirk. "Looks like there's a little bit of a problem."
Mark, who was across the room, looked at the bottle through squinted eyes. "Is that empty?" he asked, getting up to lean in for a closer look.
Collins nodded. "Thank Buddha. That means my torture is over," Mark said with a relieved sigh and he toppled over onto the floor. Well technically, on top of Maureen who was lying on the ground.
"Oof!" gasped Maureen, the wind knocked right out of her. "Get off of me, you drunk," she said, rolling out from under Mark, causing him to land on the floor with a "thump."
"I'm not drunk," Mark insisted.
"Bullshit you're not," Maureen shot back, pulling herself into a sitting position, her back against the couch.
Mark remained lying on the floor on his back. "Am not," he reiterated, his voice dangerously bordering a "whine."
"I know how to solve this one." Roger announced.
He walked over to his fallen roommate. "How many fingers?" he asked, leaning over and waving his fingers in Mark's face."
Mark's face furrowed into a look of confusion as he stared at Roger's waggling fingers. "Uhh…eleventy-seven?" he guessed.
Roger shrugged. "Eh. Close enough," he decided, offering Mark his hand to help pull him up into a sitting position.
"See? Told you," Mark announced gleefully toward Maureen.
Mark's gaze then wandered around the room until it landed on Mimi. He looked at her as though he had never seen her before. But before long, a look of realization crossed his face. "Oh, my God! I know you!" he squealed excitedly. Then suddenly, the confused look returned to his face. "But I can't remember how."
Mimi stared at the filmmaker in amusement. "Maybe because I'm dating your best friend?" she asked seriously, playing along, trying to hide the laughter in her voice.
Mark tilted his head to the side and considered that for a moment. "No…That's not it," he decided.
"Because I've been living here for months?" Mimi asked, smirking.
"I don't think so," Mark said, shaking his head fervently.
"Well, how about-" Mimi began, about to try again before she was cut off by Mark.
"I got it!" he announced, jumping up in excitement, although perhaps a little too quickly because he promptly toppled back over. "You're the dancer who gave me a lap dance that one time at the Cat Scratch Club!" he revealed, unfazed by his fall.
Roger turned to Mimi, his eyebrow shooting up. "Oh, so that's how you two met," he said, clearing enjoying this.
"The truth comes out," Joanne said, snickering.
"It was a hot dance," Mark said, getting back up. "It was all like…" he made a move like he was about to dance but abruptly stopped. "Collins, give me a beat."
Collins stared at Mark as if he were nuts. "Why would you assume I can drop a beat. It's because I'm black, ain't it?" he asked, feigning offense.
"Collins, honey. You can beat-box," Angel stated slowly, as if she was speaking to a child. "We've all heard it."
A huge smile crossed Collins' face. "Oh yeah," he said jokingly and began beat-boxing to the tune of "My Prerogative."
Mark began slowly, just bopping his head to the beat. But it quickly progressed to the head bop plus the booty shake. And from there, he shimmied over to Angel and promptly straddled her and began grinding on her. His hips were moving back and forth and his arms were flailing everywhere. It was quite a sight to see.
The group dissolved into a fit of hysterical giggles. "Ooo, yeah! Work it, Marky!" Maureen called, egging him on.
Angel was laughing the hardest of everyone. She even got into it herself, every-so-often giving Mark a playfully slap on the butt.
The "dancing" went on until Collins stopped beat-boxing. When it was over, Mark simply slid off of Angel and wandered over to the kitchen area without a word, as though nothing unusual had just occurred.
The rest of the Bohemians stared at each other in stunned silence until Mimi finally broke it.
She turned to Roger slowly, a nauseous look on her face. "Is that really what I look like when I dance?" she asked worriedly.
Roger slunk his arm across his girlfriend's shoulders. "Of course not," he reassured her.
Mimi breathed a sigh of relief and allowed herself to relax in his arms. "Oh, thank God."
"Mark's dancing was better," Roger said, laughing.
Offended, Mimi smacked him on the shoulder and wiggled her way out of his embrace and moved across the room from him.
Mark's voice rang out from the kitchen. "Thanks, Rog!"
"Anytime, buddy," Roger called back, still snickering.
Mimi, channeling the spirit of a five-year old, stuck her tongue out at her boyfriend.
"Oh, come on, Meems. It was joke," Roger said, trying to get back in her good graces.
She decided to ignore him. "You know, Mark. I don't remember ever seeing you at the club. When was it?" she asked, turning back to shoot Roger a glare.
Mark pondered the question for a moment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Umm…it would have been about a year or so ago."
Maureen, who had been making out with Joanne, shot up when she heard Mark's answer. "Hey! Wouldn't you have been dating me then?" she asked with a pout.
Collins turned to Maureen, an amused smirk plastered on his face. "Guess you just can't keep your men satisfied, Maureen."
"She doesn't seem to have that problem with women," Joanne murmured under her breath.
Maureen, who didn't hear Joanne's comment, dropped her jaw in offense. "That's not what Roger said!" she shouted defensively.
Roger's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Maureen!" he whispered urgently, his eyes trying to telepathically tell her to shut that giant mouth of hers.
Mimi, who up until then had been ignoring her boyfriend, suddenly turned back to him in interest. "Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Someone wanna tell me what's going on here?" she questioned.
Maureen and Roger seemed to go into a stare down and neither had any intention of answering the dancer. So, Mark took it upon himself to clear things up. "This one time, when I came home from filming, I found Maureen and Roger, my girlfriend and my best friend, going at it on the couch," he stated simply before continuing to wander around the kitchen.
Angel, Collins, and Mimi, all who had been sitting on the couch, simultaneously jumped up upon hearing of the illicit act that occurred where they had been sitting, looks of disgust on their faces.
"Roger!" Mimi shouted in shock. "Maureen!? Seriously?!"
"Oh, you're one to talk," Roger shot back, rolling his eyes. "You dated Benny!"
"Hey!" Mimi exclaimed, walking over to smack her boyfriend.
Maureen shrugged. "I always thought Benny was pretty sexy."
"Hey!" Joanne exclaimed, smacking her girlfriend.
Collins and Angel were hysterically, watching the interaction between the lovers. Mark also watched, but quietly from the kitchen.
"Guys?" he called, trying to get his friends' attention.
No one heard him, however. "Oh, don't worry, Pookie. I look, but I don't touch," Maureen purred, pulling Joanne into an embrace, looking for forgiveness.
"Psst. I beg to differ." Roger said, under his breath, but loud enough for everyone to hear, causing Mimi to smack him once again and causing Collins and Angel to laugh even harder.
Mark continued watching the action. Mimi and Roger were arguing, Joanne and Maureen were arguing, and Collins and Angel were whispering to each other, offering commentary on the fights to each other.
"Guys?" Mark called once again, but was once again unheard.
"Guys?" he tried again, only to be shot down again.
"HEY, GUYS!" he shouted loudly, finally getting everyone to stop what they were doing and turn to him.
However, now that he had their attentions, he wasn't sure what to do with it. He stood there awkwardly for a moment until he let out the first thing that came to mind.
"CAW!" he shouted.
The only response he got was six blank stares. "I'm a raven," he clarified. Still no response. "You know…a raven?" he tried again. "CAW!"
When no one said anything to him, he just shrugged began galloping around the kitchen, flapping his arms like he was flying.
"Maybe it wasn't the best idea to force Mark to take the most shots," Angel observed.
Roger shot her a look. "Ya think?" he asked sarcastically.
Something lying in the corner of the room caught Maureen's eye, and a plan immediately began forming in her mind. "Hey, guys. I have an idea," she announced, a wicked tone in her voice.
Collins crossed his arms and regarded her suspiciously. "You know, every time you say that, Maureen, someone ends up drunk, hurt, or arrested. Sometimes all three. Like that one time-"
Rolling her eyes, Maureen cut him off. "Says the guy who ran naked through the Parthenon."
"Excuse me! I was protesting-"
She cut him off once again. "Believe me, if there's anyone who understands protests, it's me. But seriously, this is a great idea."
"What is it, Maureen?" Joanne asked skeptically.
"It's another game," she said, looking around the group excitedly. "You know how Mark is always filming us, generally annoying the living hell out of us, right?" she asked.
Everyone turned toward the kitchen where Mark was contently flapping his arms and CAWing away, totally oblivious to what was going on around him. "Right?" Maureen asked again, urging her friends on.
All five heads nodded in agreement.
"Well, I say it's time we turn the tables. Give Mr. Filmmaker a taste of his own medicine," Maureen said, rubbing her hands together, like movie villains do when they are explaining their evil plans.
"What do you have in mind?" Roger asked excitedly, having been the subject of Mark's incessant filming most often.
"We each take turns trying to convince Marky to do something crazy. Whoever gets him to do or say the stupidest thing wins," she explained.
"What do we win?" Mimi wanted to know.
Maureen grinned wickedly. "The satisfaction of getting to ridicule him every waking moment of his life."
Roger let out a loud laugh. "Sounds good to me."
"Wait. I don't get it," Angel said, looking slightly confused. "How is that giving him a taste of his own medicine?"
"Well, Angel, my dear," Maureen began, walking over to the corner of the room and picking up Mark's beloved camera. "We film the whole thing of course."
Maureen turned back to look at Mark. "Look at him," she said, addressing the group. "He's not going to remember a thing tomorrow. Can you imagine how much fun it'll be tomorrow when he sees this tape?"
"Maureen, you are pure evil," Collins told her admiringly.
A smug smile played on the diva's lips. "It's a gift."
Joanne, thought about Maureen's plan. "Okay, but how do you know he's going to go for it?" she asked practically.
"Please. Watch this," Maureen scoffed, her voice confident.
"Hey, Marky!" she called, getting him to finally cease his repeated CAWing. "I dare you to give Roger a kiss," she said, giggling.
"Yeah right. Nice try, Maureen," Roger said, his voice telling her that she was insane. He's never gonna go for-"
Roger's statement was cut off, however, by Mark stumbling over to his roommate and planting a big, wet one right on Roger's cheek.
"You're my best friend, Rog," he slurred, and promptly stumbled back to the kitchen where he began repeatedly opening and closing the refrigerator door.
Roger just stood there in shock for a moment, the event that just happened registering in his mind. "Ahh!" he shouted loudly, frantically wiping his face with the back of his hand. "Albino germs!"
Maureen grinned at Roger triumphantly before turning back to the rest of the group. "Mark will do anything if he's drunk enough," she explained. "How else do you think I got him to try that position where I bent-"
"Okay! That's enough!" Joanne exclaimed, clamping her hand over Maureen's mouth. "That's way more information that I needed, or ever wanted, to know."
"Hey, guys!" Mark called, still off in his own little world. "There's a little flashing light in the fridge. I think it might be a UFO." he said, lowering his voice to an excited whisper.
Roger shook his head in disbelief. "The light's flashing because you keep opening and closing the door, dumbass."
"Nuh-uh! It's a UFO!" Mark insisted.
"Idiot," Roger groaned, beginning to get frustrated. "It's because-"
"Roger," Mimi said, placing her hand on his arm. "Let it go."
"No point in arguing with him," Collins told him.
"See?" Maureen asked excitedly, happy that Mark was helping illustrate her point. "The man's a moron when intoxicated. There's nothing he won't do. This will be so much fun," she squealed, clapping her hands eagerly.
"That's it. I'm in," Roger decided, feeling like his obliterated roommate would only be getting what he deserved.
"Me too," Angel added.
"Okay," Maureen said, holding out the camera. "Who wants to be the first in Operation: Humiliate Mark So Badly That His Giant Pasty Face Will Turn An Abnormally Dark Shade Of Red? Or, Operation: HMSBTHGPFWTAADSOR for short."
Collins stared at her for a moment. "Do you lie in bed at night thinking of these things?" he asked.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," she answered innocently.
A voice rang out from the group of five Bohemians. "I'll go first!"
A/N: So I'm thinking of adding a chapter for each person and their plan for our poor Marky. What do you guys think?