So I really don't know what's up with the sudden song inspired RENT fics…but here's another one. If anyone deigns to review this…please review my other one. All I want is one.

They never should've let Mark near the vodka.

It wasn't that he couldn't hold his alcohol…he could…under normal situations.

But they should've known that even a trip to the Life to get him piss ass drunk to forget about Maureen wasn't a normal situation.

So now Roger and Collins were stuck with a very, obnoxiously drunk Mark. After he passed out for a few moments they thought the worst was over before he climbed on top of a table, opened up his mouth and out came…

"Mama! Just killed a mannnnnnnnnnnnn" Mark cried way off-key. "Put a gun against his head! Pulled my trigger now he's…" he stopped, obviously stumped for the lyrics.

"Dead," Collins and Roger supplied simultaneously.

Mark nodded and continued. "Mama! Life had just begun! But now I've gone and thrown it all away! Mama! OOOOHHHH!"

Collins and Roger winced as Mark continued singing. "Do you think he's really going to go for the ensemble part?" Collins asked, hoping desperately that Roger would say no. Already people were turning around to see what was going on in the back of the restaurant.

"Uh…let's see…"

"SOMETIMES I WISH I'D NEVER BEEN BORN AT ALL!" Mark shouted sadly, cradling the bottle of vodka closer to his chest.

It was coming up…

Roger and Collins exchanged another glance. People were starting to get annoyed and Mark was wobbling unpredictably on the table. They really couldn't let Mark continue this alone…

"I see a little silhouetto of a clown!"

Gritting their teeth and taking in deep breaths, the other two at the table stood up and began to sing. "Scaramouch, scaramouch will you do the fandango
Thunderbolt and lightning - very very frightening me
Gallileo, Gallileo,
Gallileo, Gallileo,
Gallileo Figaro – magnifico!"

Mark's blue eyes focused in on them for a moment and they saw tears threatening to spill out.

"Sheesh," Roger leaned close to Mark's ear. "We couldn't let you have all the vodka induced fun."

"But I'm just a poor boy, nobody likes me!" Mark cried, invigorated once again.

His friends immediately draped their arms around Mark. "He's just a poor boy, from a poor family!"

The song continued, including a mini tug of war for Mark during the 'let him go!' and 'we will not let him go' lines, ending with the three joining together for the end.

"So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye
So you think you can love me and leave me to die
Oh baby - can't do this to me baby
Just gotta get out - just gotta get right outta here!"

"Any way the wind blows…" Mark finished drunkenly.


Mark awoke with a hangover to end all hangovers. With a sickening rush, the night before came hurtling back to him.

"Someone's finally woken up!" Roger said when he found Mark in his bed, calling to Collins who was in the living room.

"Volume," Mark pleaded. "Uh, guys?"


"Last night…did I…sing Bohemian Rhapsody at the Life?"

"Yes Mark, you did," Collins said, laughing a little.

"Why don't I remember my feet being on the floor?"

"Because you were on a table," Roger explained.

"And no one got me off?" Mark groaned.

"Apparently the good folks at the Life don't care much if patrons decide to dance and sing on tables, though they are really touchy about putting them together," Collins supplied.

"Well, all I know is that I'm never going to do that again."

Collins and Roger exchanged a look and the latter raised his eyebrow.

"At least not with the vodka."