A/N- Okay, this is my first try at something like this, so don't hurt me.
Disclaimer: If you can't get it through you're head that no one owns RENT but Jonathan Larson, than you need some help. Much love and apologies to Jonathan Larson.
Omigod!
"Omigod!" Angel shouted at the top of her lungs, causing Collins to bang his head against the headboard.
"What the hell, Ang?" he exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head.
"Omigod!" Angel screamed again, fanning herself dramtically with her perfectly manicured nails. "Omigod! Omigod!"
"Angel, breathe, girl!" Collins exasperatedly sighed, trying to calm the hyperventilating drag queen.
Angel stared wide-eyed up at Collins.
"But... but..."
"But WHAT?"
Angel pointed a shaking hand at the floor.
"SPIDER! oh shit, a SPIDER! OMIGOD!" screamed Angel.
Collins shook his head at Angel overdramatic antics.
"C'mon, babe, there is no- HOLY SHIT! SPIDER!"
"I TOLD you so!"
Now the lovers were seriously freaked out by the spider crawling around on Angel's plush bedroom carpet. They cowered up against the headboard, trying to get as far away as physically possible from the eight-legged monstrosity below them.
"What should we do?" Angel frantically shrieked.
"Oh God... oh God... I don't know!"
And all of a sudden, Roger popped out of their closet and stomped on the spider.
"Ta-da!"
Angel and Collins, now totally embarrassed and confused, exchanged high-eyebrowed looks.
"Roger. Not to be rude, honey, but why the hell were you in our closet?"
Roger looked very offended and clutched at his heart.
"Your words wound my soul, Angel. I'm only trying to protect you two softies from evil arachneds."
"Oh. Okay."
And Angel and Collins started making out on their bed again, leving Roger to turn promptly on his heel and return to the closet.