Disclaimer: I don't own the RENT gang. They belong solely to the late (but certainly great) king of Bohemia: Jonathon Larson.
Notes: This is really my first humor story. The idea of Benny's loss of hair sounded very funny to me. The rest of the story came to me in a dream (weird, huh?). Enjoy the story of Benny and his baldness!
As Benny trudged into his cruddy loft apartment, he was not in high spirits.
His hair was the main concern.
He had just grown an afro, and was very proud of it.
Unfortunately for him, his "groovy" hair was also the perfect waste basket for his classmates at Brown University to stick their wadded up pieces of crud.
Benny was not at all pleased with the situation. His hair was his pride and joy.
He hated to admit it, but the only one who could help was his cheeky, loud, slutty, fashion- centered, but extremely hair- savvy roommate.
Maureen.
The thought of asking Maureen for help was not pleasing to an independent artist like Benny.
She was as laid back as he was concentrated.
Benny thought of everything as a masterpiece.
Maureen liked to think of everything as a game.
It was not a good combination, but Benny knew that Maureen was the only one who could help him with a hair cleaning problem.
Begrudgingly, he picked up his cheap cell phone and dialed Maureen's number at the Performance Arts Center of East Village (Benny thought it was more like a cruddy old alleyway, and had mentioned this to Maureen several times.).
Maureen picked up immediately with her classic over- enthusiasm.
"Who "just happened to call" the most beautiful and talented actress in New York?"
Benny quickly thought of a sharp come back and shot it out with ease and style.
"Sorry- I must have the wrong number. I called for a Maureen Johnson. You probably don't know her; bony, over- dramatic, obviously anorexic?"
"Benny you bastard! I'm so surprised that a filthy painter like you wouldn't be begging on the streets by now."
Ouch!
Benny thought for a second, then decided to turn the conversation around.
"I guess I deserved that. I just-"
"Alright; what is it that your cold little heart desires?"
"You know me all too well. The truth is; I need a hair treatment. This afro is like a puffy gum- magnet."
Maureen began to laugh on the other line before she regained her never- failing composure.
"I guess there must be something I can get you for that awful hair- if you'd even call it hair- of yours. I'll whip you up something when I get back to the loft. I should be home in a few hours. This has got to be fast, though. I have a performance in the lot at seven o' clock."
"In the meantime I'll-"
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep
"- buy a burger."
Benny hung up the phone with the usual stunned- silence that you can expect after talking- or being talked to- by Maureen.
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Benny walked in the door of the loft with a chunk of burger in his hand.
He surveyed the room until he noticed a wrapped- up package on the kitchen table.
With a look of intense curiosity, he opened the package to reveal a paper box and a note.
He read the note with a look of anticipation.
Benny-
Sorry about how rude I was on the phone. I was jus practicing my vocals for the play tonight; noting personal. Of course; now that I think about it- you could have been nicer too. In fact- you started the whole thing!
The note ended there.
Maureen; this was classic.
Benny continued. He opened up the box to reveal four items.
First, he noticed a bottle with the words; "Hairy Nightmares" on the front. Maureen had obviously used it before, due to the loose cap.
The next item was a small container of body wash. On the front label, it showed a picture of a very muscular man in a speedo. His bulge hung out profoundly, and his skin looked extremely smooth.
The third and fourth items were a cigar and a lighter in the shape and design of a nude- and very sexy- woman.
Benny settled himself down in front of his mirror and applied a bit of the wash to his hands. He then squirted a bit of the hair treatment onto his head.
It felt oily and smooth.
In an act of celebration, Benny decided to have a cigar on the steps of the fire escape.
He walked out and stared at the lighter. It's design was too small to masturbate over, but it would light a mean cigar. He continuously clicked the small woman's breasts in and out to produce a sensual flame.
Eventually, he began to throw the lit lighter into the air, as the flame danced in beauty.
Once or twice, he thought his whole body was on fire. His head began to feel warmer and warmer.
Finally, it came to him.
His hair was on fire!
He quickly rushed to the sink and looked into the mirror. A flurry of greenish flames shot up.
It looked almost like a gas fire.
Maureen!
He immediately picked up the "hair treatment" and sniffed it.
Of course!
It was gasoline!
He looked longingly into the mirror at his coal- grey lump of hair.
He had no choice.
He took a razor and trimmed it all off as he sobbed uncontrollably.
"My hair! My beautiful hair!"
As he cried with pathetic passion, he imagined Maureen's cackles.
No.
He wouldn't let her know how he felt.
Obviously, she had seen him almost light his hair on fire before- only to pull the lighter away. She knew that the gasoline would do the trick- at the least in a few days.
He looked into the mirror and became familiar with the new, bald, Benny.
This made him cry even more.
Oh great.
How did you like it?
I personally thought it was pretty funny. I will update it if you review the story Please do, in fact. Otherwise, I'll have to delete it.
(Conor sobs uncontrollably as he thinks of an empty review window).
-WithoutYou19-