Roger thought it was another ordinary day. But he was wrong. This was going to turn out to be one of the more eventful days of his not so long life. Later on, the day became known as 'The-day-when-that-stuff-happened' because Roger was a musician and not a writer for good reason. But on with the story...
Roger was sitting on his kitchen table (because they had used all the chairs for fire wood) trying to come up with a song that wasn't already written by someone else more talented than him. He wasn't succeeding very well.
"Hey Mark, what do you think of this song? It's called Don't Spice Up Your Life." Roger began to play something that sounded suspiciously like a song by the Spice Girls.
"Mmhmm...." Mark, who was busy trying to get the lens cap off his camera and hadn't really paid attention to Roger's so-called music, had learned from experience that it was wisest to just say mmhmm, to avoid getting Roger upset.
"Well fine then!" Roger exclaimed. "I'll just go see Mimi then. SHE appreciates my music!"
Mark waved absentmindedly and began to work on the camera with his teeth as Roger stormed out of the apartment.
Roger walked down the stairs and tried to make as much noise as possible, just so everyone in the building would know that he was feeling neglected and almost a bit sad.
He stormed into Mimi's apartment. "I'm bored and neglected. As my girlfriend, it's your duty to make me feel better," he announced to her.
Mimi, who was a very nice girlfriend, immediately gave Roger a big kiss, for some reason dragging a chair behind her. (Mimi had used the table for firewood instead).
"Roger" Mimi exclaimed happily. "I'm so glad you came. My handcuffs seem to have got stuck in the chair."
Roger pulled Mimi's handcuffs out after a brief struggle. "Now, what can we do with these?" he wondered aloud. Roger had a habit of doing that, wondering aloud. Things made more sense that way.
Mimi hit him on the head with the rubber chicken she happened to magically have in her hand. "I'm sure we'll think of something," she said, dragging him into the bedroom.
Roger thought about complaining, but then shrugged - he was afraid of the chicken and didn't want to get hit again.
A few hours later, Roger and Mimi walked out again. Roger was looking very satisfied and holding the severed head of the rubber chicken. A moustache had been drawn on it.
"Now let's go out and get drunk!" he suggested.
Mimi agreed happily, because that's what good girlfriends do.
They went to a bar, you know the kind where it's so dark you forget where you are, and in the darkness the stumbled across Maureen and Joanne. Or - more accurately - they stumbled INTO Maureen and Joanne.
"Uh, sorry," Roger said, helping them both up.
"You broke my NAIL!" Maureen exclaimed, horrified.
"Uh, sorry," Roger said again. "You want me to fix it? I'm sure we have some glue back at the apartment. I'll even buy some pizza, just to make it up to you."
"Let's go to my apartment, it's closer."
Roger agreed, and he and Maureen left the club. They would have invited Joanne and Mimi, but they were having too much fun pole dancing, and Roger figured it was best to just leave them.
Maureen's apartment was really nice, Roger thought. Mostly because they still had all their furniture left.
"Don't you get cold?" he asked.
Maureen gave him a strange look.
"Um. Never mind," he said, picking up the phone and ordering pizza.
"Why don't you sit here next to me on the couch while we're waiting for the pizza?" Maureen suggested, in a voice that Roger thought sounded a bit weird.
"Do you have a sore throat?" he asked politely, because his mother had raised her son pretty well.
Maureen rolled her eyes - and then had to run across the room again to retrieve them. "No idiot, I'm trying to kiss you. I invited you here in the hope that we'd have wild passionate sex."
Roger thought about this. "Oh, well that's okay then. Just so long as your throat's okay. You see, since I'm a musician, I have to be really careful of my voice," he continued, but then he didn't say anything more. It's kind of hard to talk with someone else's tongue in your mouth.
A few hours after THAT, Roger got up from the couch, put his clothes back on, got a glass of water and said goodbye to Maureen. "I better be going back to Mimi now," he said, tripping over the pizza box outside the front door. "When did THAT get there?" he wondered aloud. "Oh well." And he picked up the box and headed for home.
At the apartment, Mark was pretty desperate and was now jumping up and down on the camera to get the lens cap off. He was not very successful.
"Oh, give me that," Roger said as he walked inside. Within seconds he had it off.
"But I don't understand! How did you do that?" Mark asked, confused.
"REAL men can take the caps off anything. That's what they're on this planet for," Roger said smugly. "Want pizza?"
Mark sniffed a bit, but then he ate some pizza and felt better. All he had eaten that day was small pieces of camera.
"So, how was your day?" he asked Roger while he chewed. Mark's mother hadn't raised her children quite as well as Roger's mom, so she hadn't taught him not to speak with food in his mouth.
"I had sex with two women," Roger said, getting another drink of water.
Mark choked. "Together?"
Roger gave him a weird look. "Hell no!"
"But I thought that was every man's fantasy..." Mark trailed off.
Then he remembered that it wasn't every man's fantasy. Mark's fantasy was to have sex with Roger, and you could say lots of things about Roger, but he wasn't two women, not even on a good day.
"Personally, I've always kinda wondered what it'd be like to be gay," Roger said, grabbing the last slice of pizza. "I mean, there must be something good about it, or Collins wouldn't bother."
Mark didn't answer right away. He was choking on a bit of pepperoni. He felt so stupid! Roger was almost inviting him to his bed, and he was busy trying not to die.
After desperately jumping up and down for a bit, he was able to speak again. "Well I'm a guy... you could always find out." He tried to strike a cool pose, but lost his balance and toppled over.
Roger, who had never really thought about Mark as a guy, considered the offer.
"Hmm... sex three times in one day," he thought. "That would be a new record.
"Sure, why not?" he said looking down at his roommate on the floor.
Mark smiled faintly and passed out.
About five hours after that, Roger walked out of his bedroom and got a third glass of water. It would have been sooner, but Mark had fainted a couple of times early on, and Roger kept having to revive him.
*Well, that was nice,* Roger thought. *Maybe I should do it all over again. After all, Mimi's only one floor below.*
He ran out the door and bounded down the stairs. He didn't knock, because, after all, Mimi was his girlfriend. There was nobody inside. "Maybe she's not back from the club yet," he said to himself. But no - there were noises coming from the bedroom.
The noises sounded strangely familiar, like something he had heard all day, but he couldn't figure out just quite what it was. So he decided to look into the bedroom - after all, it was his girlfriend's bedroom.
He walked over to the door and opened it.
Mimi sat up. "Roger!" she exclaimed.
Joanne sat up. "Roger!" she exclaimed.
Maureen sat up. "Roger!" she exclaimed.
The now headless-since-Roger-ripped-its-head-off rubber chicken also sat up but didn't say anything.
"Mi... Jo... Mau...!" Roger exclaimed. He was feeling very confused. Mimi was his girlfriend, not Maureen's or Joanne's. So why were they in her bed? Maybe they were having a pyjama party, he thought, just without the pyjamas...
"Oh, hi Roger," Mimi said. "I can't think what came over me."
"I can," Joanne said.
Roger just kept looking back and forth between the three women. "I'm not complaining, I mean hey, I just slept with Mark," he said.
"Oh, that's nice," Maureen said.
"Yeah, I thought so too," Roger said.
Then they all were quiet for a while.
"Well, this is a bit weird," Joanne said. Everyone nodded, except the chicken, because it's very hard to nod when you don't have a head.
"Do you think maybe we could just blame this on the weather?" Maureen suggested.
"Ooh ooh ooh!" Roger said, excited. "Look what I can do!" He raised his arms and lighting flashed. There was a crash of thunder and then he spoke again. "Let's never speak of this again." He lowered his arms and gave them a grin. "Cool, huh?"
Mimi, Maureen and Joanne were very impressed and said so to Roger. Then Maureen and Joanne went home to their place with all the furniture, and Roger went up to his apartment with the kitchen table, and Mimi and the rubber chicken stayed in her apartment with the chair, and they never spoke of The-day-when-that-stuff-happened' again.
The very, very, very end!
Roger was sitting on his kitchen table (because they had used all the chairs for fire wood) trying to come up with a song that wasn't already written by someone else more talented than him. He wasn't succeeding very well.
"Hey Mark, what do you think of this song? It's called Don't Spice Up Your Life." Roger began to play something that sounded suspiciously like a song by the Spice Girls.
"Mmhmm...." Mark, who was busy trying to get the lens cap off his camera and hadn't really paid attention to Roger's so-called music, had learned from experience that it was wisest to just say mmhmm, to avoid getting Roger upset.
"Well fine then!" Roger exclaimed. "I'll just go see Mimi then. SHE appreciates my music!"
Mark waved absentmindedly and began to work on the camera with his teeth as Roger stormed out of the apartment.
Roger walked down the stairs and tried to make as much noise as possible, just so everyone in the building would know that he was feeling neglected and almost a bit sad.
He stormed into Mimi's apartment. "I'm bored and neglected. As my girlfriend, it's your duty to make me feel better," he announced to her.
Mimi, who was a very nice girlfriend, immediately gave Roger a big kiss, for some reason dragging a chair behind her. (Mimi had used the table for firewood instead).
"Roger" Mimi exclaimed happily. "I'm so glad you came. My handcuffs seem to have got stuck in the chair."
Roger pulled Mimi's handcuffs out after a brief struggle. "Now, what can we do with these?" he wondered aloud. Roger had a habit of doing that, wondering aloud. Things made more sense that way.
Mimi hit him on the head with the rubber chicken she happened to magically have in her hand. "I'm sure we'll think of something," she said, dragging him into the bedroom.
Roger thought about complaining, but then shrugged - he was afraid of the chicken and didn't want to get hit again.
A few hours later, Roger and Mimi walked out again. Roger was looking very satisfied and holding the severed head of the rubber chicken. A moustache had been drawn on it.
"Now let's go out and get drunk!" he suggested.
Mimi agreed happily, because that's what good girlfriends do.
They went to a bar, you know the kind where it's so dark you forget where you are, and in the darkness the stumbled across Maureen and Joanne. Or - more accurately - they stumbled INTO Maureen and Joanne.
"Uh, sorry," Roger said, helping them both up.
"You broke my NAIL!" Maureen exclaimed, horrified.
"Uh, sorry," Roger said again. "You want me to fix it? I'm sure we have some glue back at the apartment. I'll even buy some pizza, just to make it up to you."
"Let's go to my apartment, it's closer."
Roger agreed, and he and Maureen left the club. They would have invited Joanne and Mimi, but they were having too much fun pole dancing, and Roger figured it was best to just leave them.
Maureen's apartment was really nice, Roger thought. Mostly because they still had all their furniture left.
"Don't you get cold?" he asked.
Maureen gave him a strange look.
"Um. Never mind," he said, picking up the phone and ordering pizza.
"Why don't you sit here next to me on the couch while we're waiting for the pizza?" Maureen suggested, in a voice that Roger thought sounded a bit weird.
"Do you have a sore throat?" he asked politely, because his mother had raised her son pretty well.
Maureen rolled her eyes - and then had to run across the room again to retrieve them. "No idiot, I'm trying to kiss you. I invited you here in the hope that we'd have wild passionate sex."
Roger thought about this. "Oh, well that's okay then. Just so long as your throat's okay. You see, since I'm a musician, I have to be really careful of my voice," he continued, but then he didn't say anything more. It's kind of hard to talk with someone else's tongue in your mouth.
A few hours after THAT, Roger got up from the couch, put his clothes back on, got a glass of water and said goodbye to Maureen. "I better be going back to Mimi now," he said, tripping over the pizza box outside the front door. "When did THAT get there?" he wondered aloud. "Oh well." And he picked up the box and headed for home.
At the apartment, Mark was pretty desperate and was now jumping up and down on the camera to get the lens cap off. He was not very successful.
"Oh, give me that," Roger said as he walked inside. Within seconds he had it off.
"But I don't understand! How did you do that?" Mark asked, confused.
"REAL men can take the caps off anything. That's what they're on this planet for," Roger said smugly. "Want pizza?"
Mark sniffed a bit, but then he ate some pizza and felt better. All he had eaten that day was small pieces of camera.
"So, how was your day?" he asked Roger while he chewed. Mark's mother hadn't raised her children quite as well as Roger's mom, so she hadn't taught him not to speak with food in his mouth.
"I had sex with two women," Roger said, getting another drink of water.
Mark choked. "Together?"
Roger gave him a weird look. "Hell no!"
"But I thought that was every man's fantasy..." Mark trailed off.
Then he remembered that it wasn't every man's fantasy. Mark's fantasy was to have sex with Roger, and you could say lots of things about Roger, but he wasn't two women, not even on a good day.
"Personally, I've always kinda wondered what it'd be like to be gay," Roger said, grabbing the last slice of pizza. "I mean, there must be something good about it, or Collins wouldn't bother."
Mark didn't answer right away. He was choking on a bit of pepperoni. He felt so stupid! Roger was almost inviting him to his bed, and he was busy trying not to die.
After desperately jumping up and down for a bit, he was able to speak again. "Well I'm a guy... you could always find out." He tried to strike a cool pose, but lost his balance and toppled over.
Roger, who had never really thought about Mark as a guy, considered the offer.
"Hmm... sex three times in one day," he thought. "That would be a new record.
"Sure, why not?" he said looking down at his roommate on the floor.
Mark smiled faintly and passed out.
About five hours after that, Roger walked out of his bedroom and got a third glass of water. It would have been sooner, but Mark had fainted a couple of times early on, and Roger kept having to revive him.
*Well, that was nice,* Roger thought. *Maybe I should do it all over again. After all, Mimi's only one floor below.*
He ran out the door and bounded down the stairs. He didn't knock, because, after all, Mimi was his girlfriend. There was nobody inside. "Maybe she's not back from the club yet," he said to himself. But no - there were noises coming from the bedroom.
The noises sounded strangely familiar, like something he had heard all day, but he couldn't figure out just quite what it was. So he decided to look into the bedroom - after all, it was his girlfriend's bedroom.
He walked over to the door and opened it.
Mimi sat up. "Roger!" she exclaimed.
Joanne sat up. "Roger!" she exclaimed.
Maureen sat up. "Roger!" she exclaimed.
The now headless-since-Roger-ripped-its-head-off rubber chicken also sat up but didn't say anything.
"Mi... Jo... Mau...!" Roger exclaimed. He was feeling very confused. Mimi was his girlfriend, not Maureen's or Joanne's. So why were they in her bed? Maybe they were having a pyjama party, he thought, just without the pyjamas...
"Oh, hi Roger," Mimi said. "I can't think what came over me."
"I can," Joanne said.
Roger just kept looking back and forth between the three women. "I'm not complaining, I mean hey, I just slept with Mark," he said.
"Oh, that's nice," Maureen said.
"Yeah, I thought so too," Roger said.
Then they all were quiet for a while.
"Well, this is a bit weird," Joanne said. Everyone nodded, except the chicken, because it's very hard to nod when you don't have a head.
"Do you think maybe we could just blame this on the weather?" Maureen suggested.
"Ooh ooh ooh!" Roger said, excited. "Look what I can do!" He raised his arms and lighting flashed. There was a crash of thunder and then he spoke again. "Let's never speak of this again." He lowered his arms and gave them a grin. "Cool, huh?"
Mimi, Maureen and Joanne were very impressed and said so to Roger. Then Maureen and Joanne went home to their place with all the furniture, and Roger went up to his apartment with the kitchen table, and Mimi and the rubber chicken stayed in her apartment with the chair, and they never spoke of The-day-when-that-stuff-happened' again.
The very, very, very end!