Disclaimer: We don't own Rent, or ponies. Someone should really get us some ponies.

The Truth About Energy Bars

By hippy.intellect and kawaii-babi

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One day, Roger found a mysterious energy bar next to his bed. It had Swedish writing so he thought it was edible. Because the Swedish never lie! After devouring it, he promptly fell asleep. But when he awoke…

'MY HANDS ARE PURPLE CUCUMBERS!' That is the voice that woke up Mark in the next room, and Mimi, who was lying under the bed. Roger kicked around a lot in his sleep, so this was the safest place for her. Both of them rushed over to Roger to see why he was saying his hands were purple cucumbers. They soon saw why. It was because his hands were purple cucumbers.

Mimi looked down at her engagement ring. 'How am I supposed to put a ring on his finger? They're huge!'

'Now let's stay calm here,' Mark told them all. Then proceeded to jump up and down like a girl. 'OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD! YOUR HANDS ARE PURPLE CUCUMBERS!'

Roger muttered 'Hypocrite' under his breath. Unfortunately, Mark heard.

'I AM NOT A HYPOCRITE! Now everyone STOP YELLING!' Mimi and Roger winced at his loud voice. 'How are you going to fit your tux over your hands?'

'How am I supposed to play guitar?' asked Roger

'How am I supposed to deal with having a cucumber-handed husband?' asked Mimi

'How am I supposed to call Mark a pumpkin head when you're the real vegetable?' asked Collins, randomly popping into the middle of the room.

'How am I supposed to find my pet potato with all this ruckus?' asked Maureen, also popping into the room and landing on top of Collins.

Joanne popped into the room on top of Maureen. 'Would you guys happen to have any cucumbers? I'm making cucumber ice cream.'

Roger sniffed and stuffed his hands in Joanne's face. 'YOU WANNA MAKE ICE CREAM OUT OF MY HANDS! DO YA? EH? EH? EH?'

'Stop saying 'eh',' Mimi complained. 'You sound Canadian.'

'For the last time!' Maureen said. 'Canada doesn't exist!'

Joanne grimaced. 'I've suddenly lost my appetite. Anyway, Roger, do you have any idea how this could have happened?'

'Last thing I remember before falling asleep was eating a strange Swedish energy bar,' Roger recalled.

'Well, lucky for you, I'm fluent in Swedish,' Joanne said. She proceeded to read the wrapper of the bar. 'Caution: the consumption of this bar by angsty guitarists will result in purple cucumber hands.'

'Is there any way to reverse it?' Roger inquired

'Oh, yes,' Joanne answered. 'It's quite simple. Says here you have to make out with a filmmaker.'

'But where are we gonna find a filmmaker to make out with Roger on such short notice?' Mark asked, oblivious. Everyone looked at Mark. Collins cleared his throat loudly. Mimi stared at her feet. Maureen began whistling. Joanne began knitting some socks for Elsie the cow. Benny scratched his head.

'Wait a minute…' Collins asked. 'When did Benny get here?'

'That's not important,' Mark declared. 'What's important is that we find a filmmaker for Roger to make out with.'

'Wait a minute…' Roger said. 'That's it! Mark! You're a filmmaker, right?'

'What's your point?'

'Isn't it obvious? TEACH MIMI HOW TO BE A FILMMAKER!'

'But that would take-' But what it would take, they would never know, because at that moment Benny took Mark's head and smashed it into Roger's. At first they resisted… then…

'There, all is well,' Maureen proclaimed. 'Uh… you can stop now, guys.'

Neither made any move to stop.

'ROGER!' Mimi cried.

Finally, Roger pulled away and looked at his hands. But purple they remained, and cucumbered they remained.

'What the hell? Why isn't it working?' he asked Joanne.

'Oh, that's not really the cure,' Joanne replied. 'I just wanted to see Mark get some action.'

After a long fistfight between Joanne and Roger, which included several broken chairs, a pony and a sock puppet named Glinda, Joanne found the real cure.

'Ten gallons of pickle juice!' she announced. 'Sounds easy enough.'

'But I'm allergic to pickle juice. I get itchy and scratchy and swollen and stuff! I can't drink it.'

'Roger, I am not marrying you with cucumber hands!' Mimi declared.

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One week later, Mimi and Roger got married on a beautiful summer day. Roger was itchy and scratchy and swollen and stuff, but utterly cucumberless.

THE END