After 7 long, gruelling hours of getting Glinda the sock puppet away from Maureen's smelly, gangrene-covered foot and Elsie's slobbery tongue, Benny disappeared in his bubble and Mark, Roger, Frodo and the Easter Bunny took her back to the loft and threw her in the washing machine to get her nice and clean. (Beats me how they could afford a washing machine when they can't even pay rent, but whatever) But unfortunately, nobody knew that Roger had dumped his brand new green silk briefs in there that morning, and so poor Glinda came out of the machine looking green like an asparagus. Mark, Roger and Frodo all giggled at her.

"Shut up, all of you! It's not funny!" cried Glinda, pouting and putting her hands on her hips. (Hey, since when do sock puppets have hips, hippy.intellect? –scratches head-) Mark, Roger and Frodo were all laughing too hard to stop.

"Hey! You look like Elphaba!" blubbered Mark. Glinda pouted.

"No, you look like Elphaba's and Glinda's secret love-child!" blubbered Roger. Glinda pouted even more and glared at Roger.

"You swore! You swore on the precious! Smeagol promised!" blubbered Frodo, randomly yelling out one of his lines from The Lord of the Ring: The Two Towers. The other three stared strangely at him, shook their heads, and then went back to pouting or laughing or whatever it was they were doing earlier.

Suddenly the loft door burst open (even though it can only slide) and in walked a rubber chicken, carrying a raw potato. Roger yelped in fear and hid behind Frodo. The rubber chicken set the potato on the floor and glared at Roger.

"And where have you been, mister?" demanded the rubber chicken, pointing a wing at Roger. "You said that night that you would always be mine! Ever since that night, I've never seen you! I've been waiting 3 years, 7 months, 4 days, 10 hours and 5 minutes for you to call me! What the fuck happened?"

Mark stared at the rubber chicken, then at the raw potato, then at Roger, and asked, "Umm, Rog? Who is this……uh, thing, and what is it talking about?"

Roger trembled with fear and clung onto Frodo for dear life. "Oh this is Rob, a rubber chicken I had a one-night stand with at CBGB's three years ago, and I must have been really drunk and said all kinds of random things that night and now poor Rob has taken it all too much to heart." Rob, the rubber chicken, glared at Roger and shook his rubber wing again.

"I'll make sure you pay for what you've done, Mr. Wanna-be Rock-star! But first, I need to know something: where's Maureen? Her potato Jeff has been dying to see her," said Rob, pointing to the raw potato on the floor, who smiled awkwardly and waved at them.

Mark crinkled his forehead. "I dunno. Last I saw, she ran off down the street trying to catch her imaginary peanut buttered toast. If you really want her now, you can try opening that magic curtain," he said, pointing to a purple, sparkly velvet curtain with stars and moons on it hanging on the wall. Funny how the RENTheads never noticed that before when it was hanging right in the middle of the loft. Oh well. –shrugs-

Rob looked curiously at the curtain, then walked up to it and slowly pulled it back and ZOOM! In flew Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, wearing khaki shorts and shirt (since that's all he ever seems to wear), his arms wrapped around a 20-foot long, deadly saltwater crocodile, a 40-foot long, deadly venomous taipan snake hanging off his back and 500 deadly scorpions coming out of his pockets. "CRIKEY! Look at the size of all these little beauties! WWHHOOAAAAA!" he yelled his unusually thick Australian drawl as he landed on the floor and started randomly wrestling with all these animals on the loft floor for no particular reason at all, while Glinda, Frodo, Mark, Roger and Jeff just stared at him in bewilderment. Steve looked at all of them and suddenly blushed in embarrassment.

"Oh, um guys? Is this the Great Barrier Reef?" he asked them.

The five Bohemians all blinked at him. "Umm, no it's not Steve," said Glinda/Elphaba/their secret love child. "This is the East Village in New York City."

Steve smiled awkwardly. "Ohh right-o! Sorry guys! Seeya later!" And with that, he gathered all his deadly Australian animals, and leapt out the window. Mark looked at Rob, his pale, albino cheeks blushing redder that a tomato with 10 coats of red paint on it, looking embarrassed.

"Ohh, um, sorry about that, Rob. You wanna try that again?" he asked.

Rob shuddered dramatically. "Oohhhh no. No way am I touching that contraption again," he said.

Mark sighed. "Well, then you'll just have to wait for her to find her peanut-buttered toast and come back here."

Rob sighed and flopped on the couch. "Ok then," he said.

And so the rest of the Bohemians stayed where they were, Jeff on the floor, Roger still behind Frodo and Mark on the armchair, while they waited for the Drama Queen to make her usual dramatic entrance.

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Ok, just so you know, Jeff the potato belongs to hippy.intellect and Rob the rubber chicken belongs to me. And also, I dedicate this chapter to Steve Irwin, the legendary Crocodile Hunter, who was taken away from us on September 4, 2006, way before his time. We'll miss ya, Steve-o. You are a true Australian icon. You've made us Aussies very proud. –gives a two finger salute-