Mimi?

Maureen Johnson and Joanne Jefferson walked through the park hand in hand. The cold December air rushed around the couple. They were taking a shortcut to the loft for a small get together. Unfortunately, Mimi had yet to be found. As Maureen and Joanne walked through the park, something caught Maureen's eye. A figure huddled under a bare tree looked up. Her eyes, there was something familiar about her eyes.

"Pookie, that person over there looks like Mimi," Maureen told Joanne quietly. Joanne rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Honey, you think that every homeless woman we see looks like Mimi. I'm glad that you want to find Mimi, but I'm honestly starting to lose faith in finding her," she replied. Maureen crossed her arms over her chest, and pouted.

"I'm telling you, it's Mimi! Watch." Maureen stalked over to the figure. "Umm, excuse me." The figure looked up. Sure enough, it was Mimi.

"Oh God," Joanne breathed. "Mimi? What are you doing out here? You're going to get sick! You probably are sick!" She took her coat off, and tried wrap it around Mimi's thin shoulders. Mimi pushed her away.

"No, I'm fine," she said weakly. "So you two got back together? That's good. I knew that you guys would." Maureen felt Mimi's forehead.

"Pookie, she's burning up." Joanne stood up, and pulled her coat on.

"We need to get her to a hospital right way. She can get really sick."

"She already is really sick." Joanne scooped Mimi up in her arms. She seemed to have slipped into a semi-delirium.

"Roger, Roger," she mumbled over and over again. Maureen gently brushed a stand of hair out of the dancer's face as they began to walk.

"No honey, we're getting you to a hospital. Roger will come and visit you there," she told her in a comforting voice. Mimi began to shake her head back and forth, and fought against Joanne's strong grip. The dancer was so weak that she couldn't break free of the lawyer's gentle yet firm grip.

"No, no, Roger. Where's Roger? I have to see Roger. I want Roger. No hospital. The loft, the loft."

Mimi began to couch uncontrollably. Joanne stopped walking until she stopped coughing. Mimi rested her head on Joanne's shoulder, and closed her eyes.

"Pookie, I think we should take her to the loft to see Roger," Maureen said to Joanne.

"I don't care where we take her, but we need to get her there…now!"

"Let's get her to the loft. You got her?" Joanne continued walking towards the loft with Maureen next to her.

The entire way to the loft, Mimi muttered under her breath, and played with the collar of Joanne's coat. Every once in a while, Joanne heard Mimi mention Roger's name. She sounded like a small child babbling on and on about nothing in particular.

"Shh, it's okay sweetie. Look we're at the loft now," Joanne said. She turned to Maureen. "Honey, I can't carry her up the stairs."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, she's too heavy for me to carry all the way up to the loft," Joanne snapped.

"Okay, okay, calm down." Maureen positioned herself on the curb, and used her huge mouth to call for help. "Mark? Roger? Anybody? HELP!"

Sadly, Mimi died in Joanne's arms before anyone could hear Maureen's big mouth (yeah, I'm just as surprised as you are…Maureen's mouth is MASSIVE!). And hopefully you don't believe that last sentence (about Mimi, not Maureen), and you know what really happened.

The End