Here's more! Thanks for the review and yes, There's a Good Reason These Tables are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven't Figured It Out Yet is a song by Panic! At The Disco. One of my favourites actually.

Track 5: No More or Real Estate



Ping, ping!

"Ugh," Mark groaned, getting up from his bed. He'd just managed to fall asleep and now this. He went towards where he'd heard the noise…it sounded almost like rocks or something against glass…


He trudged to the fire escape, grabbing a set of keys on his way. As he'd predicted, there Maureen was, not even having the decency to look sheepish.

"Forgot your keys again?" he asked, brandishing the set he'd picked up.

"Maybe," she shouted back up, her breaths coming out in short little puffs. "Throw down the key will ya?"

"One day," Mark muttered to himself more than to Maureen, "I'm gonna live in an apartment with an actual buzzer."

"Yeah, whatever pookie, just throw down the keys. I'm freezin' my ass off."

Begrudgingly, he threw them down, watching to make sure she got safely inside.

"You should really be more careful," he said when she got back up. "You could've gotten raped or mugged or-"

"God, I'm sorry I woke you up Daddy. If you're so concerned about me, why are we living in this shit hole anyway?"

Mark honestly didn't know.


"Why do we need a new apartment?" Roger asked the next morning over his bowl of cereal. "I like this one fine," he said, this time his mouth full.

"Roge, five people living in a two bedroom apartment isn't exactly ideal," Mark reminded him. "And besides, everyone else has already agreed."

"Yeah, but does anyone else have to go house hunting with you?"

"No," Mark admitted. "You're special. Now let's go."


"The shower is in the kitchen," Mark whispered to Roger as they toured the fifth apartment of the day.

"I can see that," Roger whispered back. Clearing his throat, he turned to the real estate agent. "Um…is that shower…decorative by any chance?"

"Decorative?" she asked. "Uh, it's the only one the apartment. What an interesting location, don't you think? Very creative and just perfect for those who live such an…" it seemed she was having trouble grappling for a word that could describe the way Mark and Roger lived life, "an interesting lifestyle."

"Right," Roger said, pulling Mark away from the woman. "Um, could we have a second to think this…tempting offer over?"

"I guess," the woman shrugged, "though I should tell you that this place is likely to get scooped up like a hotcake."

"We'll try to keep that in mind," he said as he dragged Mark outside the door.

"It's horrible!" Mark cried.

"It's not that bad…"

"Roger, we climbed over ten sleeping people before we even made it inside. I know, I counted!"

"Pshaw, it wasn't that many. Seven, maybe eight tops."

"I'm not moving here!"

"May I remind you that you aren't the deciding vote in this decision, Benny, Maureen and Collins have a say too."

"I know I speak for Benny when I say no. And while Collins is open, I doubt he'd relish in the lack of buzzer the next time he tries playing a crazy sex game with one of his students," Mark insisted.

" We don't have a buzzer now," Roger said practically. "I'm sure he could manage. And besides, what kind of sex game involves people outsi-oh," he stopped. "Never mind. So you say no?"

"Yes I say no! The point is to find a better apartment than we have now, not worse. The shower's in the fucking kitchen Roger! Picture this: Me, filming you yelling at Collins for getting water on your cornflakes!"

"Cap'n Crunch," Roger corrected as he conjured up the image and quickly waved it away. "I guess."

"You guess?"

"I know," Roger sighed. "But it's so cheap!" he said, looking wistfully back.

"Is that all you ever care about?" Mark asked in an incredulous tone.

"Yes," he replied seriously as they began walking back inside.

"Hey Roge, if the shower is in the kitchen, where do you suppose the toilet is?"


"I didn't even know that a place like this existed around here," Mark said appreciatively as he looked around the lavish apartment.

Roger let out a whistle. "It is something."

"Yes, and here is the master bedroom."

"The master bedroom," Mark wiggled his eyebrows. "I wonder which one of us would be getting this one."

"Maureen," Mark said darkly.

Roger pushed Mark aside and went further into the room. Flinging open a door, he stared at it, perplexed.

"I don't get it," he said finally. "It's too big to be a closet and too small to be anything else."

Mark came over. "Hello walk-in closet…" he said approvingly.

"Why the hell would someone need a walk-in closet?" Roger asked grudgingly.

"Are you two done in there? I want to show you the kitchen!" Marcia's voice cut through the air.

"Is that a butcher block table?" Mark asked, running his hand over the surface. "Oh I've always wanted one of these!"

"Because you cook," Roger snorted.

"If I had a butcher block table I would!" Mark said indignantly. "And if we had money for food," he added as an after thought.

"How much is it?" Roger asked, his mind always on the price.


"It's okay," Roger said as he walked Mark out of the apartment. "We don't need a dishwasher. I like the way you do dishes."


"And those parquet wood floors? Way too easy to ruin. Tile suits me just fine."

Still nothing.

"And anyway, the second apartment wasn't too bad. I've always wanted to live in a loft. It's sort of exotic, don't ya think?"

Mark nodded slowly. "Goodbye to dear Mr. Doorman," he narrated into his camera solemnly. "It's a shame, I could've gotten used to this."