I feel kind of guilty that I haven't updated in so long. But, since the majority of my friends are on vacation right now, I got bored and took this up again. The rewrite should show up in the next chapter or so, and I've decided I'm stretching the events of the movie out a bit. If it gets too contorted, let me know.

(Text like this is flashbacks/dreams)

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize and am making no money off this fic. I wish I was. I could use some.

(The mortician stared across the large stately ballroom, looking ultimately bored, holding a glass of red wine in one hand. She sighed, sipping the wine and nodding briefly at a group of men on one side of the room. The blond girl nervously strode over to her and adopted a similar pose: leaning against the wall, arms somewhat crossed, glaring at the room's inhabitants. "So...you showed." The dark haired woman exchanged a glance with a tall brunette man across the room. "I wasn't expecting that. You've got guts, kid." She swirled the wine around in the glass purposefully. "It really does look like blood. That's why they use it in church services. Blood of Christ, my ass."

"Why did you ask me here?"

"To see if you're a lemming."

"I...don't get it."

The mortician smiled. "Of course you don't. You're gonna run off the cliff after the rest of the troupe, huh?"

"What?"

"Rick." The mortician pushed herself off the wall, walking over to the tall brunette, who was gathered with more men. "And the rest of my fabulous troupe. This child wishes to be accepted into our group. Shall we go?" She dropped the glass, causing it to shatter and the wine to soak the white tile floor. The blond stared at it for a moment before following the group.)

I fell asleep. Damn.

I stood from the couch, carefully stepping over Mort and walking into the kitchen. "Hello, Morgan," Bo greeted and I glared at him. The thought of being vulnerable and unaware in the presence of this man sent a shiver down my spine. "Have a nice nap?"

"Bite me," I muttered with a look that wasn't as convincing as I wanted it to be. He chuckled and ruffled my hair. "Go away."

"You came to me," he pointed out, wrapping his arms around my waist. "Does that mean you're giving in?"

"NO," I answered in a loud voice, glaring some more. "I'm not going to give in to someone like you. It's...degrading."

"You break my heart, Morgue. You really do."

"Yeah...." I turned and walked out of the kitchen. "Sure.... 'Cause I'm so...Miss America."

"It's what's inside that counts!"

I paused. "What...are you on?" I asked slowly, taking several steps away. "It's not that pot, is it? Because you don't need to be loosing anymore braincells. It won't be 'House of Wax', it'll be 'Bo's Demented Pot-Fueled Opera'." I arched my brows. "We don't want that. Granted, we wouldn't get arrested, but we'd get thrown in a mental institution for sure. I'll let you know now, if that ever happens I'm high-tailing it back to Amarillo."

"Oh, I thought we were going to be together forever," he whined, lifting me over his shoulder.

"No! NO!" I pounded my fists into his back. "Mort, help!" The dog just looked at us and wagged his tail. "Damn you!" I sagged in defeat. At this point Mort bumped into Bo's legs in some insane rush to the door, knocking us over to where Bo's head was on my stomach. "Asshole!" I declared.

"Oh, Morgue, I knew you loved me!"

"Oh, whoa, am I...interrupting...something?" Les asked slowly, kneeling on the floor rubbing the dog's stomach.

"It's not what it looks like!" I babbled quickly. "Get off, get off!" I'm dead, I'm dead. That's it, I'm dead and this isn't really happening. Not happening, not happening, Oh, Canada.... I looked around, noticing the weight on my lower half was gone. I sprang up putting my hand on Bo's forehead. "What's wrong with you? Are you sick?" I expected much more of a fight. "You're not sick, are you? I don't think I can handle that." The horror of taking care of this terribly perverted man, who would probably end up making me wear some skimpy nurse's uniform, was too much. It would scar my sanity, not that I was all that sane to begin with. I stopped, walked a few feet over to one of the walls and slid down it. "Damn!" I muttered, resting my chin on my knees. I hope the search is called off soon. I'm not sure how much of this I can take anymore.

Bo gave a small cough. "You know what? I think I might be coming down with something." I glared once again. He'd picked up on my train of thought.

"You better hope to God you're kidding," I threatened, raising my eyebrows.