A/N: I'm posting a little early. Oh well. I don't know what to do after this, so I might not update in a while. I'll try, but I doubt if I will.

If you know these songs, you'll realize that I skipped a few lyrics to make the song fit. Oh, and ah... this chapter is definitely pushing the T rating. Don't say I didn't warn ya.

Sammy, thanks for being such a good sport. I promise I'll make it up to you. Maybe.

Disclaimer: Don't own Rent, don't own the songs. Y'know, just in case you were under the impression that I did own Rent and all...

"What's going to happen to her?" Collins whispered.

"You'll see…" Becky replied, reminding this author irresistibly of Benny, who she randomly felt like mentioning seeing as she has conveniently left him out of this fic.

The bohemians watched Sammy and the bunny curiously. Nothing happened. The bohos shifted anxiously, beginning to mutter amongst themselves.

Sammy shuddered violently and the bohos fell silent. Slowly she sat up, moving jerkily, as if she was a marionette and her strings were becoming tangled.

A short moment passed before a lopsided grin appeared on the girl's face. Had the bohos known any better, they would have run from the room screaming at the top of their lungs. However, they didn't know any better, so they were doomed to watch their fates be typed out by a girl infected with rabid plotlines. Well, all except for Angel, because she's magical and has this author's blessing.

But yeah, back to the drama.

Where were we? Oh, yes. Lopsided grin. Doom. Gotcha.

The bohos, being distracted by the authoress's minuscule amounts of A.D.D., were startled when Sammy shrieked loudly. As they turned their heads to search for the cause of said shriek, Sammy began to type. Viciously.

If the bohos weren't so fascinated by the whole situation, they would be feeling seriously sorry for that poor laptop.

Considering that they don't know what a laptop is and all.

As Sammy typed furiously (and the plotbunny shivered in delight), the bohemians began to feel a bit… strange. The strange feeling floated amongst them, going from person to person, until it stopped and chose its victim.

This strange feeling was more than just a feeling; it was an idea, and a terrible one at that. The victim it chose, the one who was picked to live out a temporary nightmare created by a semi-insane author was… Mark.

Oh, this is gonna be good.

"Oh, Roger!" Mark suddenly cried, "I don't know how to say this, but… I think I've fallen in love with you!" Mark's eyes filled with tears and his lower lip trembled. Roger looked terrified.

"Roger, I need you! You're my heart's beat, my lips' hum! I can't bear to live without telling you how I feel!"

All of the bohemians (and Becky) had by now backed far away from Mark. Roger was doing his best to run, but Mark was on his knees, clinging to Roger's pant leg. Roger tossed his head back, crying out, "Help!" but the bohemians didn't move.

"Roger, please!" Mark begged, "Make love to me!"

Maureen cackled loudly and the other bohemians attempted to hide their own amusement at Mark's statement, but they were failing. FAILING!

"I'll do anything, Roger, anything! I can satisfy your every fantasy, fulfill your every wish, just fuck me now!"

Roger looked like he was going to vomit.

"I can't help what I feel, Roger. Whenever I think of you, I just get so… horny."

"Oh. My. God." Collins finally gave into his laughter. Angel was giggling uncontrollably, doubled over. Becky was banging her head against one of the cabinets. Maureen had fallen over and was now rolling around on the floor, tears of mirth trickling down her cheeks. Joanne had turned around, face-in-hands, in a lame attempt to hide her own amusement. Mimi was giving a half-assed attempt to help Roger, but she kept breaking down into giggles.

"This is just what we need!" Maureen howled, "A gay, sex-crazed, nerdy Jewish filmmaker!"

Mark let go of Roger's pants and backed away. Roger scrambled behind Mimi, attempting to use her as a human shield. Mark surveyed the room, taking in the bohemians' faces. Turning back to Roger, he began to dance. Badly.

As if the whole situation couldn't be more hilarious.

The occupants of the loft were confused, to say the least. Their confusion was multiplied tenfold when Mark began to sing.

"What do we get for ten dollars?"

Becky turned and gaped at Mark.

"Every ting you want.

Everything?

Every ting.

Sittin' at home with my dick on hard

I got the black book for a freak to call"

"Mark!" Joanne gasped. Mark ignored her and began to shimmy in Roger's direction.

"Yo, this is Mark, baby, are you down with it?"

"Mark, I'm not gay!" Roger ran from Mark, who had just made a flying leap in his direction. He ran behind the couch, trying to put as many obstacles between himself and Mark as he could. Mark continued to sing as he moved toward Roger.

"I'm like a dog in heat

A freak without warning

My appetite's for sex 'cause me so horny"

"Oh, Oz, I don't need to be hearing this," Becky moaned.

"Oh, so horny… oh, so horny… oh, so horny… me love you long time!"

"Doubt that…" Mimi murmured. Maureen snorted.

"My virgin ears!" Becky cried. Everyone snickered. Still, Mark sang.

"'Cause you're the one and you shouldn't be mad

I won't tell your momma if you don't tell your dad"

Mark had, by now, bypassed the couch. Roger flailed backwards in an attempt to escape and was sent flying over the coffee table.

"Won't your momma be so mad if she knew I got that ass?

I'm like a freak in heat

A dog without warning

My appetite's for sex 'cause me so horny

You can say I'm desperate"

Maureen choked on her own laughter. Now that takes talent.

"Nerdy Jewish boys should not be sex-crazed!" Roger shouted. "How the hell do you even know this song?!"

"I'll be blowin' your mind while you're blowin' my brain"

"For the last time, Mark, I'm not gay! I'm not going to be blowing anything!"

Angel collapsed onto the couch in a fit of laughter.

"Oh, so horny… oh, so horny… oh, so horny… me love you long time!"

"Why, God?!" Roger screamed.

"It's true you were a virgin until you met me

I was the first to make you hot and wetty wetty"

"Mark, nobody cares! Shut up! Roger isn't turning gay for you, you pervert!"

"Mimi, that's not going to help. He's completely under Sammy's control."

"You said it yourself:

You like it like I do

Put your lips on my—"

"Ok, that's enough!" Becky stomped over to Sammy and ripped the rabid bunny from her shoulder. The bunny screeched in disappointment as Becky shoved it back into the cage.

Mark wobbled before collapsing onto the floor. The bohos surrounded him.

"Mark, Mark, oh my god, are you okay?" Joanne asked.

"The Tango: Maureen!" Becky sang. Joanne glared at her. "…sorry."

Mark rubbed his head. "Ouch. What hap—oh my god!" Mark scurried up and backed as far away from Roger as he could. "Dude, I swear, I didn't mean anything! That—that girl!" he pointed at Sammy, "It was her fault! She forced me to do it!"

Roger tensed. "So, you're not secretly gay?"

"No, I like chicks!"

Roger sighed. "Good. You scared the hell outta me… Though, it really isn't that hard to imagine you gay…" Roger smirked.

"What?! You—you—oh, fuck you, Roger!"

Roger snorted. "If I recall correctly, that's what you were trying to do to me five minutes ago."

Mark shrieked, "I'll show you!" He stomped over to the plotbunny's cage and thrust his hand inside. Grabbing the bunny by the scruff of the neck, he tossed it in Sammy's direction. Sammy, who was still recovering from the plotbunny's previous bite, gave no effort to shield herself from the flying furball. The bunny's teeth clamped onto her arm.

"Mark!" Becky barked, but it was too late. Mark had gotten his revenge.

Roger stood in the middle of the floor, bewildered. A stupid grin appeared on his face. "What're y'all staring at?" he slurred. "Am I too sexy for ya?"

Roger's leg twitched and he looked at it curiously. His other leg twitched. Slowly, his hips began to gyrate.

"Oh, fuck."

As Roger danced to a beat only he could hear (Déjà vu, anyone?), he began to sing.

Here we go again.

"I'm too sexy for my love

Too sexy for my love

Love's going to leave me

I'm too sexy for my shirt

Too sexy for my shirt

So sexy it hurts"

Aaannnnddd Roger took his shirt off and swung it around over his head.

"I'm too sexy for Milan

Too sexy for Milan, New York, and Japan

I'm too sexy for your party

Too sexy for your party

No way I'm disco dancing"

Roger stepped up onto the coffee table.

"I'm a model

You know what I mean

And I do my little turn on the catwalk

On the catwalk

On the catwalk, yeah

I do my little turn on the catwalk

I'm too sexy for my car"

"Psh. No shit. That thing is all old and beat-up."

"Too sexy for my car

Too sexy by far

And I'm too sexy for my hat

Too sexy for my hat

What do you think about that?"

"Um… I think Roger's a bit conceited." Becky turned to Mimi. "Mimi, as Roger's girlfriend, it's your duty to take away his mirror privileges. He needs rehab."

Mimi nodded.

"I'm a model

You know what I mean

And I do my little turn on the catwalk

On the catwalk

On the catwalk, yeah

I shake my little tush on the catwalk"

Roger turned, shaking his butt. If Sammy wouldn't have been infected with the plotbunny's venom, she would have fan-gasmed and died of happiness.

"Fuck all of this!"

Becky once again ripped the bunny from Sammy's body. Sammy went limp.

Roger stopped dancing and shook his head. After a moment of dazed confusion, Roger's face took on an expression of pure rage. "Mark, you asshole! I'm gonna—!"

Mark shrieked and ran. Roger chased after him, but stopped. He quickly turned and grabbed the bunny out of Becky's hands before once again throwing it at Sammy. It's teeth sank into her thigh.

"No, Roger! This isn't healthy! If an author is bitten by a rabid plotbunny too many times in such a short period of time, it could—"

Once again, she had spoken too late.

This time, however, instead of typing out another horrible storyline, Sammy cackled madly. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her pale face twisted into a mix of twisted pleasure and… well, something else entirely.

"Oh no, she's officially lost it!"

Sammy struggled to stand, and when she did, the bunny freed her thigh and scurried off to a corner of the room in fear. Sammy cackled again and her voice cracked.

"Don't worry, Sammy, help is on the way!"

As Becky announced this, she scribbled something in her handy-dandy notebook. Two men in white coats appeared.

"Please, help her! She's been bitten too many times by a rabid plotbunny!"

The men nodded, and one pulled a syringe filled with clear fluid out of his pocket. Slowly, they approached Sammy. Sammy backed away into her corner and gnashed her teeth.

Sammy's eyes darted back and forth between the two men before she finally leapt towards one of them, attacking him with teeth and nails. The other man took this opportunity to jab her with the needle. She screeched and scampered away into her corner, but the drug that had been injected into her system began to take effect.

Sammy's movements became sluggish, and when one of the men pulled a straitjacket from out of nowhere, she collapsed onto the floor. Dutifully, the two men got her into the straitjacket and dragged her to the door of the loft.

"She'll be fine," one of them called back. "We'll have 'er back to normal soon enough," and they disappeared out the door.

Silence ensued.

"Oh, fuck this," Roger announced, and made his way over to Mark. He stuck his hand out. Mark flinched.

"Dude, you're my best friend. I know this isn't our best moment, but let's put it behind us, alright? Truce?"

Hesitantly, Mark shook Roger's hand. "Truce."

"Good."

As the tension in the room finally drifted away, one statement was heard:

"Hey, anyone know where that bunny got to?"

End of Part I