Hope you guys like this! This is, officially, my humor story. Sorry for the shortness, but that's to be expected. Again, enjoy!

Mark silently roamed the house, carefully inspecting everything and petting the dog's fur. He couldn't help but feel a hint of jealousy as he looked at the smiling faces staring back at him.

One picture, however, really melted his heart. It was the guy's body surrounded by people. He didn't know any of them, obviously, but they all seemed so happy.

Suddenly, Mark heard a sharp ringing noise coming from his pocket. Wide-eyed, he pulled something out of his pocket. It was small and a silvery color.

"What the heck is this?" He asked himself.

The thing seemed to have hinges, so he flipped open the object. It looked like a miniature phone. That was weird. Where were the wires? How was it so small? How the heck did this thing work? And how on earth could it possibly be a phone? He brought the supposed-phone to his ear.

"Hello?" he asked tentatively.

"Hi Marc, honey, it's Pen," a woman's voice said.

"Pen…?"

"Penelope. Your wife." The voice said somewhat angrily.

"Oh, yah. Hi…Pen." Mark said quickly.

"I called to check up on you, honey," she said, "How are you?"

"Um, fine, sweetheart," Mark answered as sweetly as he could.

"Well, that's nice," Penelope responded, "I'll call back later. Hey, how's Scamp?"

"Scamp?" Mark asked hesitantly, "Oh! You mean the dog! He's fine."

"Good. For a while I was beginning to believe you hated him or something."

"Nah. Scamp's a good little fella."

"Alright, well, I'll talk to you later. Bye."

"Bye."

Mark closed the 'phone', hoping it would turn off. Hey, this 'Marc' guy lived a pretty good life. He could get used to this. But, as soon as Mark thought about Roger and Collins and the rest of the bohemians, he wished he were home. He just needed to figure out how.

ABC

Marc paced around the apartment, wearing a thin line into the dirty floor. He did not want to be here. What about all his cool technology? And Penelope? What would she think? Marc sighed and continued pacing, carefully watching Roger, who was still sitting on the couch, out of the corner of his eye.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. "Hey fellas!" Maureen called, "I'm coming in!"

Marc panicked, remembering how spastic Maureen was in the play. "Don't tell her!" he begged to Roger, "Please!"

Roger had a look of superiority in his eyes, but he didn't have a chance to respond before Maureen walked in the loft.