Disclaimer: I don't own The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

A/N (original): Thank you for reviewing, hollie1974 and Guest! I'm going to be adding lots of references to Ancient Rome because of a 'plot' that begins near the end of this chapter (you'll see). And, yes, I know that there's no way that Dr. Scott- even if he were real- would've gotten into a drunken bar fight with J. R. R. Tolkien. But the idea of that was just so hilarious that I just had to write it into this fanfic!

Right after they'd all eaten some form of lunch, Columbia rounded up everyone (save for Frank and Rocky) and invited them to play a game with her in the gloomy, life-less living room that was seldom entered. Since nobody had anything better to do they all went along with it. Not to mention they all needed a distraction from their own thoughts. Too much had happened in the last few days and they - mostly meaning the humans - were still trying to sort through it all. The minds of such primitive beats as Earthling have trouble processing such lunacy. Even Columbia, who'd been used to Frank's diabolical plans

Brad and Columbia sat on a couch together, to Janet's annoyance. Janet herself sat on another couch (with Magenta), while Dr. Scott sat in a nearby armchair.

"This game of mine's called 'Truth or Dare'," Columbia explained cheerfully, once everyone had settled in.

Janet couldn't help but wince. When they were all teenagers in their second year of high school, all of her friends played it together. Once, she'd had to kiss a friend named 'Emma'. Though she'd admittedly had a secret crush on Emma at the time, alibi one she didn't understand the true nature of, it was very weird. Perhaps the fact she 'liked' Emma made it worse. Oddly enough, Emma had green eyes. Eyes like Magenta's. Yet Emma's hair was blonde like Rocky's and fell past her shoulders when not tied back as it often was.

"-and you're required to go through with it no matter what!" Columbia was saying. "So! Who'd like to go first?"

Nobody volunteered for a while. Why would they? Finally, trying to be nice, Brad indicated that he'd like to be the first rounds victim.

"Okay, then... truth or dare?" she asked him. "Truth," he replied.

"What's your favorite film?"
Brad pondered this for a minute, and then spoke. "Probably The Picture of Dorian Gray, from 1945."

Ah, it was going to be those sorts of questions. Janet had worried that Columbia might ask increasingly explicit questions about people's sex lives or something equally awkward. At least she seemed to be trying to be nice about this. Frank was more likely to ask something dreadful. Luckily he was busy doing something terrible and unknown in another part of the castle.

"Truth or dare, Dr. Scott," Columbia asked.

"Truth," he replied quickly.

"What's the weirdest thing you've ever done?"

"Vell... probably ze time I got in drunken zis argument vith Tolkien over ze his hatred of a zings German. In 1948, it vas," he replied, blushing horribly. Then, his expression darkened and he thought of another answer. "Nein, it vas zat avful burlesque show zat ve did a few days ago! Zat vas vierder zan getting arrested for kicking ze auzor of Ze Lord of ze Rings in ze you-know-vhat."

Brad's eyes widened in horror. "Dr. Scott... how...?"

"It vas vhen I vas hiding in Oxford- before ze wheelchair und before ze U.S. government found me. Just don't ask about sat, bitte."

"Right, then," Columbia muttered. "Truth or dare, Magenta?"

"Dare, as usual."

Columbia giggled. "Ooh... go and get a bottle of the storng alcohol with the funny Slavic name and drink whatever left of it."

Magenta raised an eyebrow. "Ze Vodka?"

"Yeah," Columbia replied brightly. "And I'll go with you, to make sure you actually drink it."

"No, Columbia."

"Yes, Magenta. You must. You have to go through with the dare! It's the rules."

"Fine."

They both disappeared for a few minutes, and then returned carrying an unlabeled bottle of something. The vodka, of course. After Magenta took to swigs of it Columbia moved on to ask Janet that dreadful question...

"Truth or dare, Janet?"

Janet took a deep breath, as if preparing to jump into a lake and hoping to avoid drowning. "Truth."

"I'll give you the same question as Dr. Scott. What's the weirdest thing you've ever done?"

Janet thought about this for a while. "Probably tried to smoke that weird stuff in the Zen room that isn't tobacco. It made my brain feel like marshmallow, my mouth taste like cotton, and it tasted strange. Also, the trees were both yellow and."

Columbia's eyes widened in surprise. "You mean the weed? I thought you weren't really into drugs."

"I'm not sure if that," Janet replied. "And is that what it's really called?"

"Look, can we just stop talking about how my ex-fiancée is some kind of drug-doing slut and get on with things?" Brad asked, becoming rather angry.

Magenta glared at him. "She's not a slut, she's just not as repressed, you frightened fag who's hiding so far in your closet that you're almost in Narnia. Would you try to be nice for once?"

"I am nice," he replied, ignoring the first part.

"No, you're an asshole. Let's just move on with the game, shall we?" Magenta replied matter-of-factly.

There was only one person left to ask at that point. Columbia herself.

"Truth or dare," Magenta asked.

"Dare."

"Kiss Brad Majors," Magenta said.

Janet began to worry that this was because of the vodka. Was Magenta drunk now?

At least Columbia wasn't mean about it. She quickly kissed Brad on the forehead.

"There," she said.

The fact that Columbia didn't make a big deal about things made Janet less annoyed at the girl. Columbia was the sort of person you couldn't really be mad at because she was so nice.

As they continued to play the game, Janet decided that she needed to make sure Brad didn't dump Columbia like he's dumped Janet herself. Poor Columbia didn't deserve it. After all that had happened to the girl over her somewhat sort life...

Janet decided to do anything to make sure Columbia got the happy ending she deserved. Even if it cost Janet something.

For some reason, Janet was the one sent to look for Rocky when it was time to call everyone to dinner. This may've been because only she actually knew where he was. But, technically, they could've found him on the lab's monitors. Perhaps they thought she knew him best since she'd spent so much time with him.

She eventually found him in the library, looking through a very old book with weird sketches of the anatomy of humans and humanoids. It seemed that he was looking at a diagram of somebody's torso. Going by the position of the heart, the person wasn't human.

Creepy...

"I've read Julius Caesar now," Rocky told Janet.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked nervously.

"Well... I'll be Cassius, you'll be Casca, and Columbia will be Brutus. Everyone else can be like a random senator who was also 'in' on the conspiracy. And Frank will be Caesar himself."

Janet's face paled. "You mean... we'll kill him?"

"Like Dr. Frankenstein's creature, he's mistreated me. Though I'm sentient he acts like I'm not. And he's insane. Like, talks-to-imaginary-people crazy. We've got to get rid of him!"

That's when Janet realized how dangerous arguing would be. Rocky Horror was very strong. And disagreeing with a very strong person who'd suddenly become somewhat homicidal wasn't a good idea. It sort of unnerved her. Not to long ago he'd been a scarecrow-like young man with an innocent, limited understanding of the world. He'd become so cynical, so spiteful.

"Can we talk about this sometime later?" Janet asked timidly. "I'm supposed to be telling you that it's dinner time now." "Let's try to meet tonight, then," Rocky said, as they left the library.
"Okay," Janet replied, actually wishing that Frank would 'want' her tonight.
If he did, she could avoid going to the meeting Rocky was planning.

Despite being a murderous bastard, Frank didn't really deserve to die. Actually he totally did. But Janet didn't like the idea of being part of killing him. She didn't like the idea of getting involved in killing anybody!

Why couldn't Rocky be that mindless person he was only days ago? If he only didn't have a brain... to paraphrase the song of Dorothy's friend. Meaning the Scarecrow who wanted to see the wonderful wizard, of course.

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