This is the last chapter of this story. Sorry it took me so long to update. Might have had something to do with the fact that, as PrettyBoyFrontmanLove pointed out, I had 2006 words. Which I found cool. Heh. Anyway, watch for the sequel, The Pig is Always Left. (groans from the peanut gallery) Oh, shut up. It'll be good, I promise.

Thanks to Jude and Marshall (who, I should make clear for the sake of this chapter, are actually girls) for ideas for this chapter. I don't own Rent, Rent owns me. Oh, and I poke some fun at Jesus in this, so if you don't like don't read.

Chapter six:

Jones and Jesus

Food Town was closing. It was a sad, sad day in the lives of many, but it had to be done. The decision was financial (for some reason, business went downhill about the time I introduced peanut butter squirrels) but it was also emotional. It was bad enough that this was the place I had heard Bob had died, but then when Indiana Jones swooped in and killed Mark, grabbing a peanut butter sandwich on his way out… I couldn't take it anymore. I stabbed myself with a salt shaker and closed down the shop. My friends and family had gathered in the restaurant, to mourn for its loss and Mark's death, and to have one last peanut buttered meal.

'I told you this would happen,' my dear friend Jude turned to me. 'I told you Indiana Jones would kill Mark.'

'You told me he'd kill Anthony Rapp,' I corrected her.

'Same difference.'

'Not the same different!' I snapped. 'They're different people! Even though they both have the same soulful light blue eyes…'

'And no colour in their faces to speak of…' continued Jude.

'Beautiful blond locks…'

'Skinny little wrists...' added my mom.

Time for a subject change¸ I thought. 'So, anyway, Roger said he'd come by today.' I saw my friend Marshall's ears perk up. She had recently realized that her life's true love was not, as we believed before, Eminem, but instead Roger.

'Really?'

'Yeah, he and Mimi should be here any time now.' I watched her face drop as I said this. I hoped she hadn't brought the blowtorch. All we needed was for Mimi to die, too.

Minutes later, the door opened and in walked Roger and Mimi. Marshall's eyes grew the size of… something really big and before you could say 'bumbling bambling bunch of baboons', she was on Mimi. Not with a blowtorch, as many of us had expected but clinging to her leg.

'It's Jesus!' she proclaimed. Everyone looked around, confused. She continued. 'It's Jesus, the son of God, here before us all!'

'Is she talking about me?' Mimi asked, staring down at the adolescent clinging to her leg.

'Yup,' I replied.

'I see…'

For a while after that, there was silence. Roger and Mimi sat down (though Mimi had some trouble, what with the kid clinging to her leg and the fact that her pants were, as always, way too tight). We all ate some peanut buttered chicken (the squirrels had escaped). Then, the Squeegee Man looked up from hisGerman/Spanish dictionary and asked a question.

'Why did Indiana Jones kill Mark?'

I gulped guiltily.

'Why did you just gulp guiltily?' he asked me accusingly.

I burst into tears. 'IT'S ALL MY FAULT!' I cried. 'INDIANA KILLED MARK BECAUSE I SPELT HIS NAME WRONG!' I put my head down and began pounding on the table, my face redder than… something really red.

'How did you spell it?' Roger questioned.

Jude spoke up. After all, she had been there. She had been the one to correct me. 'Two words,' she answered. 'Like, Indie- andAnna. He was very offended.'

'So he just swooped in and killed Mark,' Mimi continued. 'Because you spelt his name wrong?'

I nodded, sniffing.

'That's messed up,' Elsie the cow concluded.

We all nodded in agreement. Once again, the cow was right.