i know this is seriously messed up. i apologize.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Oh my head," moaned Joanne, pressing two fingers to her temples. The laugh track bellowed out from nowhere, sending Roger scurrying over to hide behind Maureen and causing Collins to swear profusely.

"I see it's not just me," Angel observed, stepping inside. She angrily swept the waist-length beard to the side; it fluttered feebly, then promptly fell back into place. Mark sighed.

"Dear, you really should take more care of yourself. Oh my god, someone shut me up before I start talking like Mrs. Brady," he moaned, wringing his hands. Collins slapped him upside the head.

"Get a hold of yourself, woman! I…I mean Mark." Collins' eyes widened. He glanced around at the others and finally settled on Joanne. "Joanne, say something, anything."

"Why, will it get me out of this dress?" Joanne said sourly, picking at some lace on her sleeve. Collins let out a sigh of relief.

"Well, at least you can still talk like yourself. The rest of us…" Mimi stood up and stamped her feet.

"I am perfectly capable of speaking like me! And I'll ask you to show more respect, young man! When you've lived through two World Wars, you can make assumptions about the rest of us!" Mimi pointed an accusing finger at Collins. He rolled his eyes.

"Uh-huh. Sure, Mimi, you definitely didn't sound at all like my grandma right then." Mimi bit her tongue. Maureen barked and scampered over to Angel, where she started rubbing against the worm grey pants that Angel was wearing. Angel shooed her away.

"What the hell are you doing, Maureen? And why do you look like a Newfoundland dog?" Maureen panted and yipped.

"Dunno, but isn't it great? I'm a dog!" The laugh track blasted. Angel shook her fist at the ceiling.

"Shut your yaps up there! There's no common decency these days, no respect for personal privacy."

"You're so right, dear," agreed Mark. Angel wheezed and walked over to the couch, gesturing at Mimi to move over.

"My back's giving me trouble again, let me sit down for a—oh my god, what the hell just happened?" Angel looked incredibly frightened. Mimi pulled her down onto the couch.

"You're going all weird, like the rest of us. This is creepy; we don't know where we are or who's done this to us, and now we can't even act like ourselves," Mimi said with a sigh. Joanne glared and stood.

"That's not true; I'm still me, not some sappy little tramp, thank the lord…" Suddenly there was a strange oohing sound, as though a group of people were gasping. Collins' eyebrows shot up.

"I've got it! I know where the hell we are! I know what's going on!" Everyone turned to him in surprise.

"What? What's happening?" cried Roger. Collins crossed his arms.

"Don't you all get it? Like I said, this is Leave It To Beaver hell, and we're the main characters! Look…I'm the dad in this suit—god, it's horrible—and Roger and Joanne are the little kids. Mimi and Angel are the grandparents."

"Wait…does that mean I'm the mo—the mo—" Mark couldn't say it. But he didn't need to. Collins backed away with a look of terror on his face. Angel and Mimi didn't know whether to laugh or be indignant. Maureen was yapping. Joanne was sulking. Roger was curled up on the floor, sucking his thumb.

Things were not going well.

"Mark…Mark, let's just not talk about that, for the love of god," Collins finally begged. Mark nodded so fast his head was a blur.

"Of course, darling. No, no, I mean Collins! Your name is Collins!" Mark slapped his cheeks rapidly. Collins shuddered.

"Anyway, we know who we are. But what the hell is going on? Why are we acting so weird?" Mimi asked.

"Hell if I know. How do we get out of—"

"Howdy!" The door swung open to reveal Benny, wearing a mailman's suit and a grin. Everyone stared at him for a moment, and he grinned back. Then Maureen started growling.

"I've got a couple bills for you today, and a birthday invitation for the little miss!" Benny said brightly. He reached into the big bag hanging from his shoulder and took out a bundle of letters. Collins uncertainly took them from him and sorted through them.

"They…they're addressed to me…and Mark too, only you're written as Mrs. Mark Collins…" Roger's head poked up from the end of the couch.

"Is there one for me?"

"Not today, son," Collins said vaguely, still flipping through the letters. No one noticed. Maureen was still growling at Benny. The hair on her back was bristling, and she gnashed her teeth. Before anyone could stop her, she leapt towards him, barking angrily. Benny shouted and stumbled back, but she knocked him down. It took Collins, Angel, Mimi, and Mark to pull her off him and make her stop biting his pants leg. The laugh track blared.

"Control that animal," Benny huffed, jamming his cap back on his head and hastily closing the door. Angel ruefully nudged the abashed, cowering Maureen with her foot.

"Crazy dog…can't it go to the pound?" Maureen whimpered and crawled over to Roger, who boldly put his arms around her neck.

"Grandpa, you can't get rid of the doggy! That's mean!" Mark sighed.

"Dear, you have to keep it trained then. After all, you did promise that it wouldn't knock the mailman down anymore." Collins nodded.

"That's right. Be a man about it and train that dog, son." He crossed his arms in a satisfied way. Mimi shook a finger at him.

"Just make sure that boy does what he's told. With my hip acting up, I can't keep tripping over that animal. And another thing—"

"WILL YOU ALL SNAP OUT OF IT?!" Joanne screeched. Everyone jumped and blinked, as though they were coming out of trances.

"Wait…what just happened?" asked Angel in a confused voice. Joanne stomped her feet.

"You were all acting like idiots! Roger, let go of Maureen, for god's sake." Roger hurriedly unclasped his arms. Maureen shook herself angrily. Joanne ground her teeth together.

"Don't you all get it? We have to stay on our toes, or else we'll start acting like people on I Love Lucy, and I hate that show."

"But Jo, you're acting normal. I haven't seen you change at all," Mimi pointed out. The others nodded. Joanne shrugged.

"I have no idea why I don't have an urge to play with dolls or whatever…but thank the lord, I really don't. Anyway, that's good. I'll be able to keep you all from doing things like…well, like what Mark is doing." Mark looked up at the mention on his name. He had been absently straightening the pictures on the walls. Collins sighed.

"Mark, sit on your hands if you must, but just stop doing that!" Mark nodded and clasped his hands together, his face set. Roger frowned.

"But where's the laugh track coming from? I don't like it…" He stuck his thumb in his mouth as his brow wrinkled in a puzzled frown. Maureen leaned her head against him. Angel ruefully pulled at her beard.

"I don't know…but really, I'd feel a whole lot better if I knew who the hell was doing this to us."

"Ooh, pick me, pick me!" chirped a disembodied voice.

weeeeeeeeee!