A/N: So...hehe, funny story...well not really funny, just kind of painful. I grew up exposed to a lot of art, going to museums a lot, drawing a lot, interested in art history, all that jazz. So my brother and I are addicted to it (my brother's even an art major right now), and my friend was telling me yesterday how she's going to the MOMA (museum of modern art) and how her sister doesn't want to go. And I was jumping for joy thinking, "Oh my God...OH MY GOD, she's going to invite me!" Well...she didn't. Still wondering why she told that story...but hey! Inspired this! So enjoy!
Disclaimer: Don't own Rog or Marky.
"Look! Look at the colors that Van Gogh used, Rog! Isn't that awesome? Look how beauti-ROGER!"
Roger jumped and looked at his roommate, staring at him, completely shocked.
"What?" He looked back at the painting by Picasso and continued to poke it. "This painting looks wet. Why does it look wet? I mean it's not...but it looks it."
"Does it matter? Stop poking the damn thing before we get thrown out!"
"Wouldn't be that big of a tragedy if we were thrown out, I'm bored out of my mind in here."
"Well, it was your idea to come here in the first place."
"I thought we'd see Eskimos and dinosaurs and weapons and junk...why is that guitar player's head a square?" Roger asked, poking the painting yet again.
"Number one, that's a history museum. We're in a museum of art. And number two, Picasso used the style of cubism in his art. I thought everyone knew that."
"I've never been into art...really. I'm a music person."
"Then doesn't the fact that guy with a cube for a head is holding a guitar interest you?"
"No."
"Well, why not, Roger?" Mark asked, sighing.
"Because I can't hear what he's playing. And it's frustrating me."
At first, the thought saddened Mark. All Roger wanted was to hear the music that the weird-headed creature was playing.
That was it. That was it!
He wanted to hear it.
Still staring at the picture, Roger's eyes widened as he heard someone singing, "Bum! Bum bum bum bum bum..." in the melody of Musetta's Waltz behind him. He turned around to see his roommate (attempting) to sing the notes.
"Can you hear it now?"
"No...I hear my idiot roommate singing my favorite song. Poorly, might I add."
"Roger! Use your imagination!"
Roger sighed and stared at the painting again. He didn't see anything different, but with Musetta's Waltz now stuck in his head, it did sort of seem as if the guitarist was playing just for him.
"Woah..."
"See? Do you see it?"
Roger began to breathe heavily as the guitarist began to strum his guitar. Suddenly, the guitar player looked up at Roger, winked, and resumed playing Roger's favorite song.
Roger shrieked and backed away. "We have to go..."
"What? Why! You were just starting to get into it!"
"I'm going delirious is what's going on!" Roger grabbed Mark's wrist and pulled him out of the gallery.
"Fine! No more museums! You don't have to fake insanity for me to get a hint!"