To The Loft, Now, which way is East?

[Roger Davis]

((OOC: Seeing as the thread in the Life has pretty much died, and we're just trying to get out of here, I thought I'd help move that along...))

Roger stops and leans against a building, catching his breath. He starts laughing because he sees a knocked over garbage can.

"Look at the eagle! Look at it! It'sh picking at the shgarba... shgarba..." his voice trails off and he laughs some more. Apparently the pidgeon looking for some scraps of food looks like an eagle to a drunken musician.

Roger's laughter stops abruptly when the pidgeon flies away, he points a finger accusingly at direction in which the bird took off, eyes wide. Then he realizes he's stumbled through the streets to Avenue B. Shortly after that, he remembers his other friends who were supposed to be following him.

"Meeeeeeemmmmsss? Shmoooooo? MaaarrrrrkkkkYYYYY?!" His voice sounds strained and rises several octaves. He starts to laugh hysterically at this.

The flash of a person stumbling down the street reminds him that he was looking for his friends. The legs of the flash of a person shine funnily, and Roger blinks. Leather. Of course, as Roger is highly intoxicated, he does not realize this.

"SHMOOOOO?!? IZZAT YOU?!?" He hears raucous laughter. "MMMEEEEEMMMMSSSIEEEEE??!" More laughter. "SHMARKSICLE?!"

There's a dramatically long pause.

"GUYSH?! WHISH WAY ISH EASHT?!" Roger calls, waving his arms around arbitrarily.

[Mark Cohen]

Mark let his head drop into his hands. He could've gone home. But now he was stuck with Drunk Roger, Maureen, and Mimi. Oh joy.

Not like he didn't love his friends. Especially when they were drunk. Hooooboyyyyyy they were fun when they were drunk. But not now. Not in public where they could hurt themselves. Or someone else.

Oh well. The fate of three of his dearest friends was in his hands.

"Roger." He sighed, waving a hand in the general direction of Roger. The drunk one didn't seem to hear him in his current state. "Roger." He said a little louder. "ROGER!" He finally yelled. "WE'RE RIGHT HERE!"

He turned to Maureen. "Don't laugh at him. You're just about as smashed as he is."

((OOC: So like, I wasn't sure who should've been laughing so I just made it Maureen since leather was mentioned. If I need to change it, I shall!))

[Maureen Johnson]

Despite Mark's advice, Maureen is in hysterics. "Yeah, but Roger is so FUNNY when he's drunk!! I'm not this funny, Markerella! Hey, Markerella! THAT was funny!" She snorted and rested her head on Mark's shoulder. "I'm sooooooooooooooo glad you're not being Mr. Ditchy McAbandonPants anymore, Marky dear. I wuuuuuub you. You're like a lovable little...mouse. Except, um...with glasses! And a camera! And a SHCARF! So, erm.....really...not a mouse. Except.........what was I saying?"

[Roger Davis]

Roger staggered his way towards Maureen's voice, only to crash into a frightened looking Mark. Maureen was swaying back and forth, her head fastened to his shoulder. The musician imitated his friend almost fell onto Mark's other shoulder.

"Marrrrrrkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk-TASTIC! We're all heeerrrreee! Let'sh blow thish pop-stand... SHWAIT! THERE ARE ONLY TWO OS USH!"

Roger hastily began recounting his friends, forgetting to count himself.

"Oh NO!" he shrieked, "We HAVE to find Meemzi and... and... ROGAH! WE GOTTA' FIND ROGAH!"

[Mark Cohen]

Mark sighed. "Maureen, I am not a mouse. I would like to think of myself as a lion actually. A big TOUGH lion who can roar! And scare people! And---" He cut himself off when he realized: A: Not only was he embarrassing himself, but B: Maureen wasn't paying any attention whatsoever.

"ROGER!" He yelped as Roger collided with him. Then he sighed. Two drunk people were leaning on him for support. Wonderful. When Roger started counting, he slapped his head onto his palm. "You are Rogah! Now where's Mimi?" He searched around worriedly.

[Mimi Marquez]

As a matter of fact Mimi, who was somewhat better at holding her alcohol than Roger but still totally smashed, was lying on the ground looking up at the smog-filled sky.

When Mark called her name, it was like the dancer's on-button had been pushed. She sprang to her feet and swiftly fell down. After four more repeats, she managed to stagger towards the lump of drunk-and-somewhat-sober humanity that was her friends. Grabbing onto Roger's arm, she began to sing in her hoarse, off-key voice.

"OOH ROGER, I'M SO HAPPY!" she screamed. "YOU KNOW WHRE I WANT TO GO, ROGER? DO YOU WANT TO KNOW?"

She thought about it for a second and then began singing again. "NEAR A TREE, ROGER, um, y! ROGER-Y, THAT'S THE LIFE I...UM FERRET! NEAR A TREE WITH SOME CHEESE AND ROGER AND MARKSY AND MOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

[Roger Davis]

Roger began to whisper, "I'm a tiiiiger... I'm a tiiiger..." whilst backing away from the group in a crouched position. "Marksicle-"

Before the musician could whisper anything else, he felt a massive hand seize his shoulder and hoist him up so he was standing straight. Roger immediately began to sway and toppled onto the person who had grabbed him.

"HEY GUYS! IT'S THE FUZZ!" he shrieked, patting the cop on the head. "You are a very b-e-a-uuutiful fuzz, y'now?"

[Mark Cohen]

"Roger...Rog, don't--!" But Mark's plea fell upon deaf ears as the cop Roger had been about to back into grabbed him by the shoulder and watched in horror as Roger fell on him.

Mark's eyes widened and he stepped forward. "Hey officer, uhm...okay, what the hell?" He grabbed Roger around the wrist and pulled him back, lifting the rocker's arm and placing it around Mimi's shoulders. "Be merry!"

He turned back to the cop. "Sorry. My friend isn't living above the influence and we need to get him to a safer enviornment; intervention, long story, no time to explain, oh look at the time! The alcohol is KILLLING HIM SLOWLY!...gotta go, bye!" He grabbed Maureen's hand with one hand and grabbed Mimi's and Roger's with the other and ran, dragging them, as fast as he could drag three drunk people, away from the cop. He stopped when he felt out of breath and let go of their hands. "Could we not--" breath. "--run into anymore cops tonight?" Breath.

[Maureen Johnson]

Maureen laughed like a madwoman as Mark dragged her along by the wrist. "Cheezit, Marky, it's the cops! The FUZZ! Heeheeeheee. You and me, Marky, we're like Bonnie and Clyde. And you get to be Bonnie!!" As Mark let go of her hand, she looked around, and the metaphorical light bulb went off over her head. "GUYS, we're home! Here! At the loft! Where we live! Except for Mark! Cuz he left! But now he's back! YAY!" The inebriated diva began a little song: "No more meetin' cops tonight, cuz we're at the looooft...no more gettin' drunk tonight, cuz we're at the looooft..."

((OOC: This thread is getting a little ridiculous xD))

[Mimi Marquez]

Mimi smiled as she realized that they were home, then suddenly paused, her drunken grin turning into a frown.

"But....Shmarsky..." she slurred, "thish can't be our home. We live...near a tree, Mr. C, because we're cool like that..." the dancer sang, "and there aren't any treesh around here."

Suddenly, a second lightbulb went off over her head. It happened so quickly that Mimi swore she could feel the tiny shards of glass settling in her moonlit hair.

"MOOOSH CAN BE THE TREE! AND WE'RE NEAR MOOOOOOOOOO, SO WE'LL BE NEAR A TREE!"

[Roger Davis]

"Liikee a virgin..." Roger muttered, humming in time to the music in his head. Completely oblivious to his surroundings, he did a little jump and jiggeled his hips. "HEY!"

Giggling, he fell into Mark.

Holding his friends face, he continued, "Touched for the very first tiiiiiimmee."

Jerking his shoulder around, he started to walk towards the entrance of the apartment building, crashing into the door and still singing.

"HOME!" The musician shrieked, trying to open the door and get through.

[Maureen Johnson]

"HOME!!!" shrieked Maureen, pushing past Roger in an attempt to get to her nice warm bed...er, couch. She paused for a moment.

"Silly Roger, you're not a virgin! RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT, Mimi?" The drama queen giggled hysterically and dashed up the stairs.

"Hey, guyssss...the door's SHTUCK!" She jiggled the handle enthusiastically, but it refused to open. "Roggy, what do we DO?!"

[Mimi Marquez]

Mimi collapsed against her fiance's other side, giggling helplessly. "No, Shmo....HEY THAT RHYMESH!" She attempted to do a slight victory dance, but ended up facedown on the cold, dirty sidewalk.

"Roger ishn't a virshin...." she muttered through a mouth full of dirt and blood.

[Roger Davis]

Oblivious to the fact his fiancee had just collapsed on the ground, Roger began to shake the door to the loft violently. Still singing 'Like a Virgin', though.

After jiggling the handle, kicking the door and humming a few more verses of various Madonna songs, the musician stopped.

Slamming his whole body weight into the metal door, Roger shrieked, "OPEN SESAME!" Much to his dismay, it didn't work. As he backed up to lunge again, he heard a clinking noise.

Looking down, Roger saw the key to the loft that had been in his pocket the whole time lying on the ground.

[Maureen Johnson]

Maureen spun around dizzily a few times to Roger's Madonna tunes, then stopped cold.

"Ooh, SHINY!!!" She reached down and picked up the key. "Roggie-poo, we found the keeeey! To the loooooft! And now we can go hooooooooooooome!!!!!!!!!!!" She reached over and pulled him into an enormous hug.