1A/N: Okay!

So, some question as to why Mark and Maureen got attached — simply because Mark seems like the kind of person that bad things happen to. Plus, Maureen and Collins and Maureen and Jo and Maureen and Mimi all seem to get along quite fine, and I didn't want to torture Roger again, so I attached Mark and Mo. With Mark's puppy love and Maureen's annoyance with him, I thought it'd be hilarious.

Thank you for all the reviews, you guys seriously rock my world! Any doubt I once had with this story has evaporated.

— —

Get me the fuck out of here.

I cast a glance over at Maureen, who was snoring noisily on the couch. That's what I'd done most of the time being attached—slept. Through the New Year, Maureen and I had been stuck together, all because of Roger. One night when we were asleep, he snuck in with a soldering gun (where the fuck did he get this? It's beyond me) and soldered the bent tab to the handcuffs themselves, rendering us impossible of separation.

Joanne had found out and threatened to kill Maureen—didn't talk to her for a while, but then they got back together and I had to sit there through the disgusting smacking noises their lips made and then they almost got it on right then and there but then I started clearing my throat really loudly and they separated.

I met this girl I really liked, who proceeded to run away when she discovered the cuffs and that the woman on the other end of them was bi. So that left Maureen and me together, doing nothing, before we proceeded to make out.

Roger had been eating breakfast at the table, reading his newspaper. Mimi came sauntering in, grinning. I already knew what she was going to ask him.

"Roger? Is that you?" she squinted at him.

"Yep," he pursed his lips.

"Sorry, I didn't recognize you without the handcuffs," she giggled, and then exited the room, hips swinging.

For some reason, I don't pick up on this, but if I would've if they had let me in on the inside joke fun.

Collins came in, grinning like he always did when he saw me. Yeah, the reason he'd knocked Roger and I out so many times was because he knew about the tab on the handcuffs and wanted us to remain attached. Loser. Faggot. Fuckhead. Dorkfuck. Blegh.

So, yeah, my life has been absolutely nothing but fun. Roger's been loving his freedom, swinging his arms in the air whenever he wants to, brushing his hair, changing his clothing—yeah, I can't even do that anymore. Maureen and I get in the shower together, wash off through our clothes, and then we get Roger, Collins and Joanne to stand around us with blow dryers as our clothes dry off.

Going to the bathroom is awkward, especially when it's... Maureen's that time of the month. My hands have to go down there... eeeew! I mean, like, touching a girls vigeegee? So totally not fun. Maybe with my weiner... but not with my hands! Eeeew.

Next to me, my cellmate emitted a loud snore and rolled over, ripping my arm out of its socket. "OW!" I screeched, grabbing my shoulder with my other—

Never mind.

This was odd. Why was my arm not moving?

Oh, no.

Closing my eyes, I turned my neck to look in the direction that my arm was. When I opened them up, there was my arm. And my wrist. But on this wrist, there was something.

Another pair of handcuffs.

"ROGER FUCKING DAVIS!"

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

A/N: Okay! Lame, I know, but whatever.

So, I came up with a plan. You guys can submit some questions you'd like to ask me, like, you know, where did I get inspiration, why I chose certain things, how I came up with certain things, etc etc etc. And I'll answer them in the next chapter!

–Steph.

PS: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LETTING ME HIT 240 REVIEWS! Oh, my God, I never even dreamed of 100! This means so much to me, thank you! –gives every reviewer lifetime supply of cookies and Cheetos–