a/n: We got tons of snow on Saturday so we don't have school tomorrow! :D
this chapter is devoid of questionable language for my bestie.

and ., I dunno why Mark was all depressed. I don't remember being depressed when I wrote that… ha… :)

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It was an early morning in New York City, and Mark was fully intending to spend it asleep— until Roger came barreling in the door screaming about snow.

"We have got to make a snowman!" Roger said excitedly. "Do we have carrots? Like not the baby kind, the big daddy kind that make snowman noses?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Then we gotta make a snowman! I wonder if we have a spare pair of gloves and a hat… oh, and a coat!"

"Roger, you need to be wearing your coat."

"No, I was gonna use yours!"

"…"

"Just kidding! Haha, I bet we have an extra somewhere… if all else fails, I bet we can use one of our Snuggies."

"So it can get stolen by some random person in Central Park?"

"Central Park, that's a great idea! I was just gonna build it outside somewhere. Let's go, Mark! Get up!"

"Roger, can't you let me sleep for just awhile longer?"

"No! Get up, Mark!"

"No…"

"Getupgetupgetupgetupgetup!"

"…Fine."

Mark rolled off of his mattress, resigning himself to Roger's plan. Snow was just peachy, but building a snowman at 7:00 in the morning was not exactly appealing. He dragged on his coat and made sure Roger had his before they left the loft with a carrot, a pair of mittens, and a hat that Roger had located underneath the couch.

The two roommates reached Central Park at about 7:30. People were already starting to mill around; photographers and children alike were marveling at the fresh blanket of snow. Roger decided to stroll over to a patch of snow and started making a snowball. Mark sat on a nearby bench to watch until the oddly immature, kind-of rockstar turned to him and made a "come here" motion with his hand.

"C'mon, Mark, you're just sitting there," Roger pleaded. "Come help me with his body."

Mark smiled. "Fine, Roger, whatever floats your boat."

"Who said I had a boat to float on?! Just help me build the stupid snowman."

Mark shuffled over to him, kicking a bit of snow onto the growing pile in Roger's hand. The rest of it went onto the bulky coat that the guitarist wore.

"Hey! You trying to start a snowball fight?" Roger asked, a challenge in his voice. He bent down to the ground, depositing his snowball, then he made another and fired it at Mark, hitting him in the chest. Mark looked at Roger devilishly.

"You really shouldn't have done that."

The next thing Roger knew was that he was being pelted by snowballs, and he was being pelted fast. Fortunately, he thought fast. He dove behind a nearby bench, using the aged wood as a shield. The barrage of snowballs stopped for awhile, but when he peeked over the edge, a snowball whizzed over his head. Looking more secretly through the slits, he saw that Collins had arrived with Angel, and Mark had combined their forces to make a team.

"So unfair," Roger said to himself.

"Wanna do something about it?" a voice said from behind him.

Maureen stood there with Joanne reluctantly at her side.

"We can totally turn the tables on them," the drama queen informed him. "Just shake on it."

Roger shook her hand enthusiastically. "Welcome to Team Roger!"

Maureen coughed. "We need a new name, but whatever."

"No way, 'cause Team Roger is the awesomest name in the awesome history of awesome awesomeness."

"Can you even use awesome that many times in one sentence?" Joanne inquired.

"Yes. Yes, I can. Do you know why? Because I'm awesomely awesome," Roger said.

Joanne had already begun to make a snowball, and so had Maureen. Roger started stockpiling snowballs next to him, and he suspected that the enemy was doing the same. Finally, when they had enough snowballs, he divvied them up and jumped out from behind the bench.

"Okay, you evil filmmaker and your equally evil anarchist and your slightly less evil drag queen! Get ready to meet your match… TEAM ROGER STYLE!"