Maureen barged through the loft, dramatically throwing her hands up in the air as she walked towards the couch.

"Where does she get off? I mean, I've pretty much become a 50's housewife for her, cooking and cleaning. I even dusted. I've never dusted for anyone in my life!"

"Nice to see you too, Maureen," Mark said from the newspaper.

Maureen exhaled loudly. "I don't know why she insists that I'm always flirting with random strangers! A polite hello to the shirtless construction worker on Avenue C doesn't mean anything!"

"Mark, I'll watch your Cher Moonstruck monologue at another time….oh, it's Maureen that's the high pitched voice I hear this morning," Roger grumbled before sitting on the couch next to Mark and took the newspaper.

"Very funny," he replied grabbing back the paper.

Roger pouted, "At least give me the comics section."

"Fine," Mark reasoned, handing him the wanted section. "Oh, I think Maureen is still talking."

"…and I didn't get the pants with my butt cut out because she didn't think they were appropriate enough for her little fancy lawyer soiree! I mean, come on! They were totally classy. And…"

"Why did you let her in, Mark? Especially this early in the morning?"

"I didn't, she just came in."

"What, the door was unlocked?"

"Well, our stuff is still here, and I didn't touch the door at all this morning."

"Does she still have her key?"

"No, she threw it at me when I call her a slut before she left. I still have the bruise."

"Where? Near where she kicked you for not filming her audition for Lion King?"

"No, that one was nasty. The key one is right by my glasses, see?"

"No. On your right?"

"Yeah. It's right there, you can't tell near my hairline?"

"Oh yeah, I see. It's a little purple zig-zag. Not that bad."

"Like the Lion King one?"

"There's worse. I have one on my arm when Maureen swore I was wearing one of her shirts to a concert."

"Really? Let me see."

Roger set his paper down and rolled up his sleeve.

"I remember that. You were wearing one of her shirts."

"I was not!"

"Were too. Roger got hit by a girl…"

"Shut up, so were you."

"I think she's still talking."

"….and that's another thing, she is always so anal about which way I put the dishes back. Like I always do it wrong. 'No honeybear, the glasses face to the west.' Like it's some freaking feng shui….."

"Well how else did Maureen get in?"

"I don't know Roger, I guess it's just a mystery of life."

"There are some deeper mysteries than Maureen getting her hands on spare key. We can solve this, like we're Sherlock Holmes."

"I'm guessing you're Sherlock and I'm Watson."

"Naturally. I look better in plaid."

"Sherlock doesn't always wear plaid."

"Well I look better with a pipe."

"Sherlock Holmes doesn't always have a pipe."

"Fine, if you wanna be Sherlock, then go ahead. But I get to be Mary-Kate."

"Roger, what?"

"Mary-Kate Olsen? Ashley Olsen? Those two little blonde chicks that go around in trench coats solving stuff."

"That's the last time we get Collins to rewire our cable, so you can watch two little blonde twins."

"I didn't say they were twins. You've seen the show."

"Have not."

"You're blushing."

"Shut up."

"Who stole the Great Hope diamond? What killed the dinosaurs?"

"Shut up." Mark hid behind his newspaper.

"….but no, does she care? No. She comes home, and you know what she does? She walks right by me. I'm lying there, pretty much naked, on the couch, and she passes me! Passes me! Mark, you wouldn't've passed me, would you?"

Roger caught Maureen's glance at Mark and nudged him in his stomach.

"Ow. Oh, I'm sure Maureen. Absolutely."

Maureen raised an eyebrow, but it didn't stop her as she continued on.

"Ow, Roger, what didja do that for?"

"How else was I gonna get your attention?"

"By no hitting me in my Maureen bruise."

"You have another one? Which audition did you forget to tape this time?"

"No, it's from something I did tape."

"What?"

"…."

"Tell me."

"No, Roger."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Come on!"

"I'm not saying anything."

"….Mark, are you telling me there's a sex tape of you and Maureen around?"

"How did you….could you be any louder?"

"Mark, we've been having this conversation the entire time. I could yell from the top of my lungs and she still wouldn't notice."

"Is it quieter?"

"I think she asked us something."

"…Guys? Aren't I'm right?" Maureen asked.

"Yes."

"Of course you are."

"I thought so." Maureen smiled smugly as she sandwiched in between Mark and Roger. "It's so nice to know I have friends that are so attentive. You guys are such great listeners!" She kissed Mark and Roger each on the cheek.

"Glad to help, Maureen."

"Yeah, what he said."

"Well, I feel so much better. I think I'll go head down to the firm and invite Pookie to lunch." She hopped off the couch and headed towards the door.

"Hey, Maureen?"

"Yeah, Roger?"

"How did you get in?"

"With my key, silly."

"But you gave your key back," Mark added.

"Well Collins was getting fed up with having to ask you guys to throw the key down all the time. So he stole one and made copies for us all."

"Who are us?"

"Him, me, Joanne, Mimi, and the Squeegee Man."

"The Squeegee Man?"

"In cases of emergency. Bye you guys."

She slammed the door closed.

"Well I guess we solved that mystery, Mary-Kate."

"Not so fast, Sherlock. We have a new mystery."

"What?"

"Finding that sex tape of you and Maureen."