Hooooly shit. No, seriously this time, with the deepest emotion possible, right from the bottom of my heart, holy fucking shit! This was too much, like majorly. Here I was, in some gay café in Florida, and there was a note written by Richie in the pocket of a kid with an English accent who apparently resides in the United States. He's here, or at least he was, but now we know where he is being kept. We had him, and we could get him, it was as simple as that. Or was it? Life had already thrown me enough curve balls and wild cards, was I to think this was another break in my daily dose of anxiety?

 "Are you shitting with me, Jon? Because if you are..." I remarked rather loudly. He turned to me in disbelief.

 "What? You think I made that note myself?" Jon replied back to me.

 "It's a possibility, how are we to know you didn't?"

 "Why in the hell would I want to do something like that? I wouldn't screw someone over like that. I'm not a complete asshole!"

 "I'm afraid he's right Danny, he's not a complete asshole." Tommy said confidently. Uh oh, maybe this all really was for real, and I'd put myself in deep shit.  Now I had to fix it, but I was good at that.

 "I'm sorry, Jon, it's just been a long day." I said, trying to look as sincere as possible. It didn't seem to work this time around though, because Jon starting laughing to himself uncontrollably.

 "Sorry? You're...you're sorry? That's what all you queeries say anymore." Then he changed to a mocking voice. "Sorry, sorry, sorry." Then returning to normal tone. "Nice fucking first impressions you have on people, MATE! I'll see you later!" Then he slipped out of the chair and fell onto the ground. "Aww! And who left a fucking screwdriver on the floor...Trent!" Jon tossed Trent the screwdriver and then stormed towards the door.

 "The repairman must have forgotten the screw...driver..." Trent said softly and sheepishly to us, putting the tool in his pocket. "I've never seen a gay guy use such derogatory language before." Jon opened the door and turned back to us, I could see the hurt in his eyes.

 "And by the way, I'm not gay, I'm bisexual thank you very much, so it's ok for me to say that shit!" Jon yelled at us, his face red hot. I couldn't believe his vocal cords didn't snap from the high tone in his voice. Then he walked off, slamming the door behind him very hard, shattering the glass.

*     *     *     *     *

 The buzzer sounded, indicating the end of our first scene. This was actually the first of three scenes we were doing for our last show. Not too long, but not too complicated either. At least it would all be over soon, the tension on and off camera was building every second. If there were any more there would be blood all over the studio. The director sighed and threw his megaphone down onto the ground, creating a loud boom throughout the room. We all looked at each other nervously, unsure of what he was going to do next. He gave up the signal to take a break for fifteen minutes and loudly ordered the glass from the door to be replaced with a fresh sheet, which was the cameraman's job when no one else was in the studio to help. Jon came around from the other side of the set, once again with a confused look on his face.

 "I didn't slam it hard that time, honest! These props are shit!" Jon complained. I had to agree, he didn't slam it that hard at all. The director picked up his megaphone.

 "No, you're shit! You're on thin ice mister. If I had my way you'd be gone from this institution!" The director screamed as we quickly dispersed to our monogrammed, green studio chairs. I took a load off, revising the script for the next scene, not that it was that complicated or anything. Vanessa the make-up girl tried powdering my nose and I told her once again I'm not supposed to look good for the scene and sent her on her way. Poor girl doesn't have a brain cell in her head, I would have said she was banging the director to keep this job but, he's gay! Maybe it's the cameraman. I noticed Deke and Tommy retreat back to their dressing room, no doubt for a little quick fun and release. I couldn't deny that maybe I needed some of that too in order to loosen up a bit.

Where was Richie anyhow? I looked around the set, only seeing Jon, Justin, the director, the make-up girl/intern, Vanessa, and the cameraman, Earl. Aside from that the place was pretty much vacant. Richie was probably in our dressing room, I assumed. So I stood back up, tossing the three-page script aside and walking to the dressing rooms. There were four of them in the hallway, two on each side. The ones on the left were for Richie and I, and Tommy and Deke. The ones on the right were for Justin and Jon. It was decided long ago that they should be given separate dressing rooms, on account of their on again, off again relationship. Jon was a cheater because of his insatiable need for sex; Justin was a cheater because of his lack of sex in relationships. Jon played for both teams, that was true, even though I didn't think making it known on the very last show was important or very necessary. You couldn't trust him anyhow, if you were dating him there was a very good chance you would only be satisfying half of his sexual needs, it was weird.

I knocked on the door to our dressing room, hoping he was in there. Luckily, I heard his voice telling me to come in, so I did. I saw he was just finishing up his getting ready for the next scene in the clothes he was supposed to wear for that scene. Richie was sitting in front of those big mirrors with the round light bulbs along the outer edge of them, doing the finishing touches on his hair. Even though he was supposed to look like shit for the scene, he still looked fantastic. He saw me through the mirror and smiled. I jumped up onto his table and smiled back, grinning at him. He grinned back and then returned his attention to the mirror in order to perfect his looks.

"Scene over honey?" He asked me.

"Sure is baby." I answered happily.

"How was it?" He asked.

"Does it matter?" I shot back.

"I guess not." Richie giggled. "How much time we got?"

"Fifteen." I said. Richie thought for a moment.

"Jon?"

"Yeah."

"Glass?"

"Uh huh." I nodded.

"Those props are shit anyhow." He pointed out to me, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, it just means it costs the price of a shake at Hard Rock Café to make this show." I responded.  "Well, at any rate, we have some time before we have to be out there so..." I started grinning again and Richie's eye's met mine.

"You wanna play?" Richie said in a musky voice that just screamed `I want you', grinning back at me with his sexy lips.

"Ohhh, yeah!" I moaned back, then I saw Richie get up and glide over to the dressing room bed across the room, his finger motioning me to come hither. I got off of the dresser as he laid down on the bed, then I quickly ran over to the bed and jumped on top of him, sinking my teeth into his delicious, smooth neck as his hands tugged and ran all over my shirt. My fingers found the buttons on his shirt and unbuttoned it all the way down; exposing his medium built chest and large, dark, and hard nipples. He worked hard to get a more toned body, and it paid off in every way possible. My tongue found his two nipples, I just had to have them, I couldn't resist. Our moans and humps and grinds indicating our pure lust for each other and out need for release. I had been cooped up on this set all morning and sometimes a person needs a break from it every once in a while. Acting is hard, and it's even harder to get acting, as in getting a role and breaking into character when the time arises. This wasn't real life; this was Hollywood, where anything can and will happen. I started kissing my way down my lover's beautiful chest, taking in his sweet, early morning scent, working my way down to the zipper to his pants, when all of a sudden I heard a short, low-pitched scream from the other side of the studio. It was loud enough to scare the pants off the both of us.

We immediately ceased our lustmaking and looked at each other in fright, catching our breaths and fixing our clothes in order to look professional again. Then there was a ruckus of voices and screaming and yelling outside. I stood up and began walking to the door to see what all the commotion was about. Richie got up and joined me as I opened the door.

"I'm scared." Richie whispered into my ear while I peered outside into the hall, no one was there. They all must be where the noise originated. I turned back to look at Richie, who apparently looked very frightened. I grabbed his hand tight and led him down the hall. When we passed Deke and Tommy's dressing room, they emerged from it and joined us, hearing the scream as well. The two boys adjusted their clothes as we had; Tommy had his shirt unbuttoned still but didn't bother with it. The four of us made our way into the main studio, seeing the rest gathered around in a circle on the café set, which was still there for some reason. The hotel set should have replaced it by now. Everyone was standing in the kitchen part of the café set. We shrugged to each other and joined everyone in the quiet circle to see, to our horror, what everyone was gawking at. We gasped loudly when we saw what it was...the graphic, gratuitous, bloody remains of Trent! Well, actually it was just his spotless body with a pool of blood trickling out of the back of his head, making a small pool on the floor, but he was still DEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"That's...that's just stage blood right? You're ok, right Trent?" Deke asked nervously. Justin kneeled down next to Trent's dead body and pressed two fingers to his neck.

"He's dead." He said softly, then the silence was broken, and there was panic and mayhem throughout the group. Realizing Trent was, in fact, dead; Deke fainted onto the ground. "Quick! Someone do something!" Justin yelled.

"Ok, I'll get Deke's arms, you get his legs, and we'll carry him over to that couch so he can recover." Jon responded.

"Trent! I'm talking about Trent! Ohh, I think I'm going to be sick!" Justin said as he ran to the bathroom.

"Yeah, me too, I'm gonna hurl any second." Tommy said nonchalantly while lighting up a cigarette.

"Don't smoke in my set!" The director yelled. "...or near the body."

"He's been murdered!" Justin screamed as he ran back to the group, wiping his mouth clean with a paper towel. "And we don't know by who! Or why! Or how!"

"No shit, Sherlock." Tommy said, his voice muffled by his cig. "That bloody wrench next to his head might help us to know how." He motioned his foot toward the bloody wrench next to Trent's severed head.

"Someone should call the cops, I would but...I didn't bring my cell phone." I suggested.

"I didn't either, or I would have called!" Justin screamed.

"Me either, because SOMEONE made a rule about having cell phones, pagers, and computers in the studio." Jon complained, looking at the director.

"You CAN'T have them in here! That's eight or nine different cell phones, pagers, and computers making noises while we're taping!" The director yelled back. "I still have MY cell phone, it's on vibrate and doesn't beep, ever." He said as he took his cell phone out of his pants pocket, and then it beeped.

"It's on vibrate and doesn't beep, ever." Jon said in a snotty voice mockingly.

"It only beeps when it has a low battery, which it does now. There's not enough power to make calls; I can still check my messages though. Maybe I can still get some news on our two missing actors."

"Missing actors?!" Everyone said in unison, even Deke as he stood back up, regaining his consciousness.

"Well, the kid who played Link, I couldn't get ahold of him, so we had to get someone on short notice to take the job. Hopefully someone knows what happened to him...and Harvey Keitel.

"Harvey Keitel?!" Everyone said in unison again.

"Yeah, the guy who played Deke's father as a cameo, well he was supposed to have a small part in this episode, but I haven't heard from him either." The director responded while trying to check his messages.

"So who's playing Link now?" Richie asked, still clutching my hand nervously.

"I am!" Said a voice from the other end of the circle, just joining us; we all looked to find...Home Improvement and gay sitcom star Jonathon Taylor Thomas! "I am currently between projects right now, and sources tell me I can't start my new one until this one ends, right Richie?" He said, grinning at Richie, who squeezed my hand even tighter. I couldn't blame Richie though, no one wants to work with JTT, but he will when we finish this show, which looks to be cut short for the time being.

"Oh shit...I mean...uh oh..." The director said.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Well, it says here, that this morning they found Link with a knife in his back in the conservatory at his hotel in Los Angeles. It was confirmed by more than one source that he was, in fact...dead." We were about to gasp when he put his hand up to stop us short. "Not yet. And yesterday they found Harvey Keitel in the study of his home in San Francisco." Everyone stared at him in anticipation. "Now you can." And everyone gasped in surprise. This was just getting better and better by the second!

"All of our cast members are being murdered, one by one, and any one of us can be next!" Vanessa yelled.

"Life's too short." Tommy sighed as he lit up another cigarette.

"Well, at least we're all together, there's safety in numbers." Justin remarked. We all nodded.

"Wait, not all of us are here, where's James?" Vanessa pointed out.

"Last I saw him he was in the studio dining room stealing foods." Earl the cameraman said.

"Let's go!" Deke yelled and we all ran into the billiard room. When we got there we were all shocked and appalled to see James, sprawled out on the dining room table, with a rope wrapped tightly around his neck in a noose. Everyone stood speechless and Justin walked up to the body and held two fingers against his neck.

"He's dead." He said slowly, and everyone started screaming loudly at the top of their lungs.

"Did he die...quickly?" Vanessa asked. Justin sighed.

"I'm afraid not, by the looks of it he suffered tremendously for at least twenty minutes...but that's just a guess."

"That's it, I'm not waiting to be sliced up by some maniac who doesn't like our tv shows, I'm getting out of here." Jon said and ran out to the front door. We all followed him and saw him bang up against the door, trying to push it open.

"Oww! We're trapped!" Jon yelled. "The doors are sealed shut!" He said as he tried all of the doors desperately. "There's no way out!"

"Wait! I know!" Vanessa said happily as she went up to the doors and pulled on them. "Shoot! I could have sworn I pulled on the doors before."

"That's not all she pulled on." Earl the cameraman whispered to us, snickering to himself.

"You did pull on it, to get INSIDE the studio you airhead!" Deke yelled in haste.

"Now, now, let's not all start fighting with each other, we have to work as a team if there's no way out, no telephone, and a killer stalking us, and another thing...where's Tommy?!" Jon said, then there was a loud scream from where we came from.

"No!" Deke screamed and ran back into the billiard room; we all followed of course. We all found Tommy crying next to James's dead body, wiping tears from his eyes. When we came in he looked at us sadly.

"It's not fair!" Tommy sobbed. Deke walked over and consoled him.

"I know it hurts, but James is in a better place now if you think about it." Deke said.

"Who the fuck cares about James? I'm all out of cigarettes!" Tommy yelled, showing us his empty carton. We all sighed and rolled our eyes. Deke hit Tommy in the back of the head and dragged him back towards us.

"Hey guys, I found this note taped up on the front door, look at this!" Jon said as he slammed a piece of paper out on the table, which read, "Finish Cruising for Love or die."

*     *     *     *     *

After a good ten minutes of us tracking Jon down and getting on good terms with him again, I don't know why, but it just seemed like the right thing to do, we headed as fast as we could to the location of Richie, or at least what he supposedly wrote down on the card. How were we expected to know that Jon was a bisexual? He used derogatory language about gays all the time, we all just thought that he was a complete asshole or something! Well, it was a lesson learned though, just because someone likes the same sex doesn't mean they don't like the opposite sex, though most likely they won't like the opposite sex. The chance is still there though.

When we arrived at the Ramada Inn, the hotel that was written down on the card, the five of us high-tailed it up the stairs, not wanting to waste precious time with the elevator, and found the room indicated on the card. God, I hoped this was right, I hoped we would get just one more break in our lives. If this wasn't legit, then all hope would be lost, and my life would be over. I stepped in front of the door and put my hand on the doorknob slowly. I put my ear up against the door to see if I could hear anything, see if anyone was inside. I couldn't make out what I heard, but it sounded like muffled voices. There had to be someone inside, it had to be Richie. I looked behind me at the others and they nodded at me, telling me to go ahead and open the door. I was so nervous of what I would find on the other side. Would I see Richie getting the shit beaten out of him, just like he was when he was taken from me yesterday? Would he be dead on the bed with blood dripping out of all orifices? Would Link be waiting for us with a knife in his hand, ready to chop us all to bits? Oh the questions, the possibilities, the questions and fucking possibilities! I couldn't take this anymore, and I couldn't live one more second without knowing the truth. I turned the doorknob quickly, seeing that it was unlocked, and pushed it open as quietly as I could to see what was on the other side...

What we saw shocked us, surprised us, and downright amazed us. There was Richie, alive, really alive, on the bed with Link, on top of Link! He was...he was...and his hands...his hands were at Links neck! Richie was choking the life out of him! My eyes widened and my heart skipped a beat, it was him, he was ok, and he was sure showing Link who was boss! He didn't seem to notice us, and a huge part of me didn't want to interrupt him, call it my own poetic justice, or just I really hated Link's guts and at least someone was taking it upon themselves to do something about it.

"Die! Die you bastard! If you don't tell me where Danny is I'm going to kill you!" Richie shrieked in his ear as Link's hands desperately tried pulling Richie off of him, but not having enough energy to do it. Richie could quite possibly kill Link, which wouldn't be so bad though.

"Is that your boyfriend?" Tommy whispered into my ear, standing beside me. I nodded my head. "Wait, the one who's choking the other?" I nodded again, still watching the dispute in front of my eyes. "Oh, good then...he's cute."

 "Thanks, he's a very nice person...once you get to know him." I whispered back.

 "Oh, I never doubted he was, you're very lucky to have him." Tommy responded and patted me on the back.

 "This is your last chance buddy, tell me where he is!" Richie screamed, I could see his face turning red. The fear on Link's face increased exponentially, seeing the true malice in his eyes, then Link saw us standing by the doorway.

 "He's right over there!" Link answered softly, his voice cracking from the pressure on his diaphragm.

 "Yeah right! Like I'm gonna turn around and my boyfriend along with a group of militants are going to be standing right outside the door? Just for that you should die, unless you give me a reason not to kill you!" It seemed as if Richie's grip on Link's neck was being tightened immensely, we heard in moan in pain.

 "Because...he's right...over...there..." Link said with his last breath before he passed out, using the last bit of strength to point over to us. Link laid unconscious on the bed, I could tell he wasn't dead because he was still breathing, maybe he fainted or just fell asleep from lack of oxygen, it didn't matter really. Richie noticed he wasn't moving anymore, a small gasp of surprise escaped his lips, then he turned his head to us.

 "Oh look...it's my loving, understanding...boyfriend...and my...Internet friends." Richie said nervously while hopping off of the bed onto the floor.

 "And don't forget us!" Jon yelled from the back, waving his hands up in the air.

 "Oh, yes, the English boy in the Burger King who just HAPPENED to have my picture in his pocket, how FREAKING perfect that I just HAPPENED to be there at the same time! Ohh God, it's a miracle!" Richie began to lose it, big time, I think now is the time to be concerned. "I know what this is, a conspiracy, a big damn fucking conspiracy, and everybody's in on it!" He started pointing a shaky finger at all of us. "No...this is a dream, one big nightmare! I wanna go back to California where things make sense, where gas costs two and a half fucking dollars a gallon, and that's exactly where I'm going!" He ran over to the window and opened it, attempting to jump out of it. I ran over and grabbed him before he could end his `dream', pushing him back onto the bed and closing the window.

 "This isn't a dream, Richie!" I told him, he stayed still, getting out of his tantrum and catching his breath. I took a moment to observe his clothing, it was bloodstained. Then I looked up at his face, his sweet, battered face. What had happened to him? His face was so depraved, dirty, lack of hygiene and care. It was scared, that's what it was; he was scared, I just hoped he wasn't scared of me. Please Richie, my love, my soul, my...everything, don't be afraid of me, I came here to save you, quite possibly from yourself.

 "Danny, sweetie, you are right. This isn't a dream, and I have very good proof." Richie said as he held up his finger dizzily and then ran into the bathroom, where we heard sounds of vomiting, as if he was coughing up a lung in there, and then washing himself up. Then he stumbled out of the bathroom and approached me. "Because, I don't feel like shit and do THAT in dreams, and people don't drug me in dreams. And that means...that means... I just overpowered a maniac ...my friends...and...and you are really here!" Richie smiled and ran over to me, wrapping his arms around me in a loving embrace. I wrapped my arms around him tight and he melted into me. It felt so right, so nice, so complete. We had been separated for less than two days and already it felt like an eternity. If we were more than five feet from each other it would have already been too soon.

 "Aww, a Kodak moment." Jon joked.

 "Shut up...let them be..." Justin said to him.

 "I missed you so much baby." Richie whispered into my ear, not letting go of me, and not I him.

 "I missed you too, I thought I'd never see you again." I whispered back, letting my emotions get the best of me as a tear ran down my cheek.

 "Oh...I know...It doesn't matter now, everything's fine now, right?" He asked as he looked up at me, showing me his gorgeous smile.

 "Aside from Link? Yeah, everything's ok now, I won't let anyone hurt you anymore. Not ever again." I said back to him sincerely, kissing him deeply on the lips, eyes closed tightly. Then I pulled away from him quickly. "You washed your whole mouth out after you hurled, right?" Then he looked at me with that sexy grin plastered on his face, and brought our lips together once more. How I missed those sweet, supple lips of his, so full of love and life...and passion! We kissed for a long time, just feeling each other once again; it gave me serenity, hope, and peace. What more could I want? Then all of a sudden...

 "He's gotta gun!" Deke screamed at the top of his lungs. And like in slow motion, Richie and I turned to look at Link, evil grin sprawled upon his face, revolver in hand. Then we saw Justin running up and diving in front of us, just as a bullet was fired, hitting him in the leg. He fell onto the ground screaming in pain, grabbing his leg...

  "Shit! Shit! Shit! What the fuck was that Jonathon? Oh man! Hey assholes, I'm NOT adlibbing here I'm really in pain!"

*     *     *     *     *

 "Whoa!" JTT yelled surprisedly as we all looked at Justin's red leg.

 "I'm dying! Tell my wife I love her and I'm gay!" Justin screeched. I bend over and looked at his leg and where it was hit.

 "You're not dying, you were hit with a paint round, not an actual bullet. Look there's not even a hole." I told him, he looked down and noticed that his leg was just covered in red paint. He stopped wailing and wiped his eyes.

 "It stings though, even if it wasn't a real bullet. Even though there should be ANYTHING but caps in that thing! In fact, that's not even the stage gun we use, that looks like a REAL revolver!" Justin said, glaring at JTT. He hobbled up and limped over, taking the gun out of his hands and inspecting it. "Where did you get this from?"

 "It was in the prop bin, isn't it the one we're supposed to use for this scene? Sure looks like it according to the script, which says that I take out a revolver and fire twice at you when you jump in the way, then once at Richie." JTT said.

 "You mean Danny." Richie corrected.

 "Whatever!" JTT shot back, and walked off the stage.

 "I'm fine, thanks for asking everyone. I'm dandy, I'll just limp on my right leg for a few minutes. Luckily it was just a fluke of some sort, no worries. At least he wasn't aiming this thing anywhere else." Justin said as he pretended to be aiming the gun at Jon.

 "Put that gun down before you shoot paint in someone's eye." Jon ordered Justin, who then lowered the gun to Jon's crotch. "Gimme that thing!" Jon stepped up to Justin and grabbed the gun from him. "With our luck this thing could just go off by itself. We don't need YOU even looking at the trigger. And I'm not gonna be touching this thing when it goes off either. The last thing we need is a finger pointing contest." He walked over to the `window', which was actually a hole in the set with a city backdrop behind it, and placed the gun on the table. "There, now nothing can possibly go wrong, and I'm pretty sure nothing else will go wrong either, and no one else will get killed."

 "Jinxing it, jinxing it!" Richie said nervously, somehow his hand found mine again. We both knew neither of us could protect one another from a homicidal maniac, but at least the love was there. Lame! I wanted to have some sort of battle cannon strapped to my chest so I could defend us both, if only I had one.

 "Sorry, I'm just saying...well, at long as we stay in pairs then we'll should all be fine." Jon said.

 "But what if one of us is paired with the killer?" I asked.

 "Well, then we should all stick with two other people." Jon answered.

 "But what if there are TWO killers working together and someone is stuck with them both?" Deke asked.

 "Well, if there are TWO killers then the logical thing to do would be to stay in pairs, and hopefully the two killers would pair with each other so no one is in danger."

 "But that leads to the first question! We don't know how many there are in the first place anyhow!" I shrieked to him.

 "Fine! Then no one pairs with anyone. As far as any of us are concerned we will assume that EVERYONE is a potential killer. That means you all are, I am, Vanessa is, and your new costar is!" Jon yelled, pointing to Richie.

 "Hey, he's not my new costar yet!" Richie defended, his grip on my hand tightened. "He's my new costar next week, and until then you refer to Mr. Thomas as that stupid, dumb blond. If I had my way I wouldn't even be working with him, and if I were the killer I would have killed him FIRST. There's my alibi." He said, smiling at Jon, who was apparently getting frustrated.

 "Ok, ok! I don't care who killed who, the scene is done, let's cut and print it, Earl, everyone else off the set, we need to get the new one out here for the final scene." The director said through his megaphone. The six of us exited the set and split up into our respective pairs, Richie still with me of course. We retreated back into our dressing room to finish some...well...unfinished business. As we departed to the other side of the door I noticed the director arguing with the cameraman, Earl, about the footage shot or something, I couldn't really decipher their loud, muffled voices since we were so far away. I hoped we wouldn't have to do the scene all over again.

 As soon as the door closed shut we were all over each other like Rosie O'Donnell on Tom Cruise. Our arms were wrapped around each other and our mouths were busy, engaged in a hot French kiss. We swapped spit and I could taste the sweetness inside of him. We continued like that until we heard a door slam hard from across the hall and snapped to our senses abruptly. We were still in each other's arms though, I loved the feeling of his arms around me, so warm and so safe, it made it feel as if there wasn't some vicious psychopath after us. We smiled at each other lovingly, just enjoying the silence of the moment. I hated acting and I hated that Richie hated it but still did it. There just wasn't any way else to make money, and we had to sacrifice all our integrity, and lives it seemed, to get the job done. I mean, anyone willing to star as JTT's love interest probably is VERY desperate for cash. And yes, Richie was going to be that star, and yes, we were desperate for cash, VERY desperate. It seemed to be going so well too, at least at the beginning. The first couple of episodes went well with audiences, VERY well. Everyone was happy, it was like one big party and you got PAID for it, too! I mean, I found the love of my life thanks to the hit show as well, what more could I possibly have asked for? Then things started going down hill, not our fault, the director's fault. We read the lines he put out fine; he was the one who wrote em. It doesn't matter anymore, one more scene and we're through, that's it, end of story.

 "I love you. Thanks..." Richie said, breaking the perfect silence.

 "For what?" I asked him curiously.

 "You know." He blushed cutely. "The message."

 "WHAT message?" I asked again. He glared at me suspiciously.

 "The one you left in my room before, I know it was from you."

 "How do you know it was from me?"

 "Cuz you say funny, cute things like that."

 "Like WHAT?" I snapped back. He walked over to the dressing table and showed me a small index card with writing on it. I read it aloud.

 "You're next? You're next? Based on what's happened so far today it looks like a death threat!" I said as Richie's eyes widened in terror.

 "Oh my god! I'm going to be next! NEXT! Killed next! Wait...next after who?" He asked, and not one moment later we heard a gun shot and a sharpened scream. "Oh, that guy." He said as we both ran out the door, meeting Deke and Tommy in the hall, obviously interrupted once again, because now Deke's shirt was unbuttoned with Tommy's!

"Give it up guys, you'll have plenty of time for that afterwards." I said as we raced back into the main studio to see what happened this time, and to whom.

"Yeah, well, being in danger kinda turns me on, and also one of us could be next, and I don't want last night to be our, you know, LAST TIME." Deke said.

"Uh huh, if things get any crazier the four of us just might wanna agree to a, you know..." Tommy lowered his voice to say it. "...four-some."

"A four-some!?" Richie exclaimed.

"Shh! Quiet down, I don't want people to think we're all swingers...are you?"

"No!" Richie and I screamed at Tommy simultaneously.

"Fine, fine. SHEESH. Just a question. And it's not like we've never seen each other naked before." Tommy said.

"Excuse me, but me catching you jerking off and you sneaking into my dressing room while changing doesn't necessarily cut it." I said, it really happened too, on April Fools Day, of all days to catch someone whacking it, and boy was he!

 "I didn't mean THAT. Hello! We've been naked on TV."

 "On TV, on TV. It's not like you and I took the time to strip down and compare sizes."

 "Ok, fair enough. The offer still stands though." Tommy winked at us. Deke blushed heavily.

 "Tell you what, we'll call you up on judgement day and have a little fun before our ultimate demise." I said jokingly.

 "It's a deal!" Tommy said as we entered the main stage. When we got there, Jon, Justin, the director, Vanessa, and JTT were all quietly gathered around a body in the hallway of the hotel floor set. The crowd opened up for us to see Earl the cameraman's dead body lying on the ground, a bullet wound going right through his heart. The camera clutched in his hand over his right shoulder, damaged and in pieces on the floor. No one said anything. Then Justin broke inside the circle; kneeled down next to the body and pressed two fingers to his neck, and stood up, looking back to us.

 "He's dead." He said softly, and there was uproar throughout the group. Screaming, crying, wailing, moaning, groaning, just from the shock. After about a minute of that everyone quieted down. "I'm afraid I can't tell how he died though." He sighed.

 "Maybe he drowned." Vanessa said in her high pitched, perky voice.

 "Do you see water anywhere? It's obvious he was shot!" Jon said.

 "Oh? And how would you know that?" Justin asked. "Unless...you killed him! You and your happy trigger revolver of yours!" Jon had a shocked look on his face.

 "I didn't kill him, I was no where near the revolver OR Earl when it happened. I could have sworn the gun had PAINT rounds in it, not REAL ones." Jon whined.

 "Oh yeah, well where WERE you then, huh?" Justin interrogated him, poking him in the chest.

 "I was with you the whole time!" Jon shot back.

 "A likely story..."

 "I didn't do it, if anyone knew who did it then it would be our faithful director, the one who was arguing with Earl when we left." Jon said, and everyone glared at the director.

 "What? Me? I didn't do it, I never even touched the gun, it's still on the table over there!" The director pointed to the gun on the table. "See?" And everyone looked, and it was there, the gun, still on the table next to the phony window.

 "Jon was the one who put the gun on the table, he must have pointed the barrel towards the hall where Earl would be standing, and it would go off by itself, a perfect crime." Justin said, Jon walked up to the gun and examined it closely. He picked the revolver up and opened up the thing you put bullets into, closed it and laid it back just as he found it.

 "It's empty, but it was recently fired, I can smell it. Someone moved the gun, and this isn't the position I put it in. I'm not a moron; I made sure the barrel was pointing toward the wall. Someone must have gotten to the gun somehow, but how?" Then he looked over to the window. "Ah ha! The window is open! It was supposed to be closed for the scene and I remember it being closed. Someone must have snuck around to the window, opened it up, reached for the gun, aimed it towards Earl, and shot him!" Then he leaned out of the window, looked down, and picked something up. "Look, paint rounds, the killer must have emptied the gun of the paint rounds and put a real bullet into it. But who did the dirty deed? Who was the mastermind behind it?" Then everyone started looking at each other, accusing faces. We all disbanded after the scene was over; it could have been anyone. "Well, it looks as if we can't solve this one, we'll just have to wait to see who's next." As soon as he said that Richie squeezed my arm and yelped out loud, everyone turned to look at him in confusion.

 "I...I'm next!" He exclaimed nervously.

 "Thanks for volunteering Rich, but I think we should let the killer decide for himself?" Jon joked.

 "No, I KNOW I'm next!" Richie said.

 "How would you know that?" Justin gasped. "Only the killer would know who's next! You must be the killer, stop him!"

 "Shut up Just, he's not the killer, he was with me..." I said.

 "And we were with them, too." Tommy said, winking at us.

 "Is this true Deke?" Jon asked.

 "Umm, well, kinda..." He said nervously.

 "Kinda, well it sounds as if your alibi's aren't holding true." Jon said. "Two or more people involved with a crime makes a conspiracy you know..."

 "No, no! It's not that at all. My companion here is just nervous, because he doesn't want to admit what the four of us were really doing together at the time." Tommy said confidently.

 "What were you all doing?" JTT stepped in. Uh oh, Tommy was going to say the unthinkable yet totally genius idea.

 "We were having an orgy." Tommy said. "Right Dan?" He slapped my butt hard.

 "Right!" I yelped. "We...we thought...since one of us might be next...that it would be best to explore our..." Then I cleared my throat, I was so embarrassed. "...our wild sides. End of story." I said, smiling nervously, hoping they would believe the story.

 "Oh...ok, fair enough, now onto other business." Jon said, moving from the set and out into the studio, everyone following him as if he was the leader of the pack, his hands behind his back. "It seems as if we have a serial killer on our hands, and won't stop killing people until we finish the show."

 "But we can't finish the show now, the camera is broken, we're doomed, me first!" Richie shrieked.

 "Not necessarily, hopefully the killer is among us right now, and since he wants it to end, we'll just let it end, right here, right now. We can act it out for him, without the need of a camera!"

 "That's genius! All I need to do is rewrite the ending to compensate for the...well...lack of actors we have, but I can bang one up in five minutes. So you can just memorize the lines really quick, do the scene, and that will be that, no more show, no more everything!" The director said happily, taking out a pad of paper and a pen and scribbling things down at the speed of light.

 "Alright, it looks as if we have some time until we can do the next scene, so let's get a few things clear first." Jon said as he paced back and forth. There is a psychotic serial killer on our hands, it could be anyone here, it could be no one here, it doesn't matter. Now, what DOES matter is that we survive, well, everyone except the killer. Now in order to do that, you have to follow a certain pattern, counteracting to the pattern the killer...well...kills in. The pattern this time is obviously teen, gay, boy love stories. He kills by them, narrowing down the minor characters and nothing bad happening to the main characters. The only thing happening to the main characters is sex, hot, nasty sex, getting what every man in America wants yet still only 16 years old and not really having to try very hard to get it. All the other actors who have died had to try to some extend to get what they wanted, but for us, we didn't have to do shit. We're at the prime of our lives five years before we can drink, and thus nothing bad has or can happen to us in the killer's eyes, and that is how he kills. Now, since he killed by those rules, we can survive by them. There are certain rules that one must abide by in order to survive a successful teen, gay, boy love story. Listen closely and you will live. Rule number one: be a nice person. The assholes are always the ones who get canned in the end, while the nicer ones find love and get laid. Rule number two: do not incorporate yourself in the gay community one bit. You have to be an outcast, ashamed of yourself for being gay; thought of as unwanted and unloved, not fitting it. The best success rating goes to teens that think they are trash and have no friends. Rule number three: don't TRY to fit in either. It ties into rule number two, ok? You are gay and an outsider, and thus you can't fit in nor try to. I don't know why but from what I've seen from other teen, gay, boy love stories, that's how it's supposed to work. I know, it's not real life or even close to it, but that is how the killer kills by. Rule number four: don't trust ANYONE to come out to whatsoever. Not close friends, not your parents, not even your dog. The less of people you come out to the better. Remember, you are an outcast and anyone you tell who isn't gay will hate you forever, you have no logical thinking, you are gay, one of THEM, and that's how it's going to be. Now, the most important rule of all is rule number five, it incorporates everything before, and if you pull it off you will live: fall in love at first site, as soon as you see someone, not after you talk to them and get to know them, fall in love the second you see them! It's conceited, I know, but that's how it works. Be as superficial as possible, the right guy for you is the one who just walked into the classroom with the blond hair and smiling. You have no idea if he's an asshole or not, but that's how stories are written. You only care about looks, forget about the ugly people. In fact, an add-on to number five is, NO ugly people, only good looking ones. No fat, no disabled, no ethnically mixed. They have to be white, Caucasian, males, blond hair, in the best possible physical condition they could be in, because that is your dream boy. Follow these five rules and you will live. Thank you!" Jon sighed a deep breath.

 "Jon." Justin said.

 "Yes?"

 "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." Justin replied. "How could any of that ever happen?"

 "He's right!" The director said, looking as if he finished the script for the last scene. "Jon is right. You can't see it in my scripts because I designed them that way. A long time ago, before I got into writing, I used to watch the regular shows, like the Comicality hour, or JT Theater, or any other one of those. Jon saw what I saw, the same consistent things. He's right, those are the rules in order to be happy in a TGB Story, well, it was until I started writing. Before my time, the most beautiful boy in school would think himself an outcast, have no friends for some stupid reason, not confide in ANYONE about being gay, not trying to meet other people in the gay community or even go to support groups, and then they would fall in love the moment they saw some NEW kid they never saw before. Magically that same person would be gay and fall in love with the main character, and then all of a sudden he's get other friends and be happier. He got all that without doing one thing, not one DAMN thing, he didn't try to fit in, or make friends, or come to terms with his sexuality, he's just sitting around one day and OOP, he finds a boyfriend, and those are the stories that got the best audiences. Well I took a stand, I wanted to find logic in this world again, show people that maybe you have to do things in a logical manner to get what you want instead of making people think that if you did nothing and sat on your ass and be miserable love would surely find you. Many a time a fan of those shows would in fact think that is how reality would work for them, since it's how it happened in the story, and they sit there forever, crying about how they don't have a boyfriend, yet not doing anything to remedy the situation, it's sad. I just hope the things I write gives people more hope, while not all feasible the things that happen, at least the characters go about things logically, and if I can get just one kid to get out of his chair and do something that makes him apart of things, or not be afraid to confide his sexuality in just one friend, my job is done. That has happened, what I show people makes them happy and have a more plausible outlook for the future, and thus, my job is done, I have to move on, we all do. And with that said, let's do the last thing and show people the right way to do things. By the way, I only wrote this thing in five minutes, so it's kind of short and doesn't make much sense, but that's what the people love!"

*     *     *     *     *

 I'm not quite sure how it happened, possibly from the excitement from earlier today, or just that Richie and I were happy to be united once more and we didn't care where we ended up, but nonetheless the six of us ended up on a stretch of dirt road, seemingly in the middle of no where. I looked back and found the nearest big city we had come through a small speck in my eye. Ahead of us there seemed to be minimal life signs, save for some old shacks here and there that looked like they came right out of an old western film. I wondered when we would see the cowboys on horseback and the hookers with every disease on the side of the road. There was even a water mill; you don't see those much anymore. Could we have possibly stepped into a time warp into the old nineteenth century? Well if we did, I wanted to go back to the present, because the nineteenth century is BORING! There aren't any televisions, or computers, or cars back then. There weren't any here either. Well, maybe we stepped into a figurative time warp! Yeah, just some quaint little town that never really got hold of the technological and economical boom, not that I could see how anyone would want to live without that stuff.

 Richie and I were still holding hands, even after we had left the gay part of town. Maybe because we didn't want to be separated one more minute ever again, maybe because our love had taken on a new form and we didn't want to hide it from everyone anymore. I suppose you could say we were `out of the closet'. I knew Deke and Justin were, and they seemed happy enough, save for some battle scars here and there, not to mention the very special scar on his leg when he took a bullet for us, luckily it only grazed his leg and he was fine in no time. Link wasn't fine though; we made sure of that. Six gay boys, or rather five gay boys and one bi boy, against one straight boy, such fools they be.
 
 Deke and Justin were holding hands too happily. I think they liked doing that even more because Richie and I were as well, it made us all the more comfortable. They were very nice people; I could see why Richie liked them so much. When they met it was as if they knew each other their entire lives, picking up on conversations without missing a beat. It was like they never met on the Internet first and then met. Jon and Tommy was a different story though. They were having a fling of sorts with each other, I guess just having a good time until one of them falls in love with the other and they are forced into a relationship. Relationships were funny things, I love Richie with all my heart and I don't see how I could ever betray him in any way, shape, or form. It's not possible in my mind, he's just so cute and intelligent and witty and...perfect. My life was an uphill battle until I met him. Before I found him I thought that I would be dead in a month for sure, whether from my dad finding out about me being gay or from my own doing. But then everything changed; everything went from worse to better the moment of our first kiss, that one powerful, exciting, love-filled kiss. Funny how things turn out, because truthfully the first time I saw Richie, seeing his robust, young body, my intentions were of sex, like just picking him up for a one-night stand. As we talked I gradually started falling for him, more and more, his dreamy eyes, his smile, and his subtle teasing at the dinner table, it culminated. And eventually it climaxed and I couldn't deny it anymore, I was in love with this boy, totally head over heals in love with him, and what made it even more amazing was that it was mutual!

 "Babe? Are you ok?" Richie asked me, tugging at my arm and almost pulling it out of its socket. I must have zoned out from thinking.

 "Yeah, I'm alright. Say, where are we?" I asked.

 "No where." Justin said.

 "Come on, we have to be somewhere." I responded.

 "No really, look." And he pointed to a raggedy old sign on the side of the road that read, `No Where, Florida.'

 "Wow, that's weird, I wonder why it's called that." Richie said.

 "Well, probably because the laws here are so whacked out of proportion, that when you compare it to the rest of the state, you must feel like your no where near Florida." Justin said.

 "What kind of laws are different? Consent laws? Sodomy laws?" I asked.

 "Of course, but not that our regular actions would change here, we don't pay attention to those silly laws. Those are for straight people." Justin said.

 "Damn gay." Deke said and gave Justin a high five.

 "Damn gay?" Richie asked.

 "Yeah, instead of saying `damn straight' you say `damn gay'. It's kinda funny don't you think?"

 "Damn gay it's funny." I giggled.

 "Well, at any rate, we didn't come here just to be able to have legal sex." Justin said, leading us to some fancy shack.

 "What then?" I asked.

 "Well, this town has two more great laws: legal marriage at sixteen and equal rights for same-sex couples as opposing sex couples." Justin smiled; bringing the six of us into the shack, inside there was what seemed to be a chapel of some sort.

 "Wait, you're joking right?" Richie inquired.

 "Hardly! Deke and I decided it a while ago, I mean, we're here already, so what the hell, why not? It costs just five bucks to get married; the whole she-bang and everything included! Oh, and guess what, I have ten dollars in my hand right now!" Justin pulled two fives from his pocket.

 "You are crazy! And besides, don't you need a marriage license first before you can get married?" I asked.

 "Not a problem, it's included in the package, don't worry, it's all good. Well, except for you Rich, you being Jewish and all."

 "I'm not Jewish! I'm not anything! I'm..." I covered Richie's mouth before he went off of tangent, too late though, but he calmed down eventually.

 "Hey, we wanna get married too!" Jon spoke up, his arms around Tommy gleefully.

 "What? Really? Why?" Deke asked surprisingly.

 "Yes, nothing better to do, and we're bored." Tommy said.

 "But you don't like each other, you never talk, you barely have anything in common."

 "Yeah, we're practically married already, might as well make it official eh mate?" Jon said.

 "Ok, we need another five dollars then, that is, are YOU two gonna do it? Come on, everyone else is." Justin asked, looking at Richie and me. We looked at each other, trying to decide whether to do it or not. Geez, this was peer pressure, couldn't they just offer us cigarettes? But no, they have to offer us marriage, total devotion and happiness to each other. A lifetime of being together, living together, heck we already live together!

 "What the hell?" Richie and I said at the same time, laughing to each other. I reach inside my pants and grabbed a five-dollar bill from the pocket. As my hand left the pocket with the money, a small, folded piece of paper dropped out of it and landed on the floor. Richie bent over and picked it up, unfolding it and reading it.

 "What's this? A riddle?" He asked, glaring at me.

 "Yes, it's...it's for YOU!" I lied, I got it from that nice boy on the airplane, whatever his name was.

 "Wow cool, lemme think for a sec here...oh, I got it, very clever! The answer is Denver, cuz that's the Mile High City. So if you had sex in Denver it would be joining the Mile High Club. That's how you join it without being on an airplane. Am I right?" Richie asked happily.

 "Ummm, yeah! That exactly right baby, you are very smart!" I said, kissing him on the cheek.

 "Yeah, I know, well I gotta be smart to be your boyfriend...oh, I'm sorry, fiancé!" He giggled. It was even better than saying the word boyfriend. It meant we were to be married, and soon I could say husband, too! Oh, it would be great!
 

 "Woo! That was great!" Tommy said, dancing up and down as we left the chapel.

 "Yeah, I couldn't believe how quick, yet thorough it was!" I said happily, hugging my new husband tight and kissing him on the lips.

 "And the minister...can you say CUTE?" Deke pointed out.

 "Oh, yes, VERY cute indeed. For a moment I wanted to marry him!" Jon chuckled.

 "I can't believe what you said during your ceremony Dan! Your face was SO red from embarrassment!" Deke said.

 "Hey, gimme a break! At least I didn't do what YOU did at your wedding." I shot back.

 "That could have happened to anyone dude. The good thing is that it's over with, and let's not speak of what happened in the chapel other than marriages again. So, what do you want to do now?" Justin asked.

 "So, what are we going to do now on this lovely Christmas Eve?" Tommy asked.

 "Gee, I dunno, I suppose we could go swimming, it IS quite hot out today, and by the time we make it back to my house we're gonna be dropping dead from heat exhaustion." Justin said.

 "I agree, ok whose up for swimming then?" Deke asked, and everyone raised their hands.

 "I didn't pack a swim suit though." I said.

 "Yeah, I don't have one either guys." Richie said. Then Deke, Justin, Tommy, and Jon grinned at each other.

 "That won't be a problem!" They all said in unison. I didn't know what they meant precisely. Heck who am I kidding, I knew exactly what they meant! Crazier stuff has happened in our lives, this would just be plain fun. I think I'll like the next couple of days here, and no doubt my HUSBAND will, too.

*     *     *     *     *

 
 The scene ended and we disbanded once again. The director, who was the cameraman now that Earl was dead, told us it was good enough. All we had to do now was wait and hope the killer would show his face and tell us if what we just did was sufficient. If it was, then he would let us go, because his demands, of course, were that we finish Cruising For Love or die. Well, we finished, are we going to die too or what? Hopefully not. The six of us disbanded off of the fake dirt road set and backdrop. Richie and Deke went to the bathroom, making sure they went in a pair and promising Tommy and I to stay together. Of course we said we would, no big whoop, well, until they disappeared through the bathroom doors. He grabbed me by the arm and led me into the other direction.

 "Come on." He said.

 "Where are we going?" I asked.

 "I need to keep my body moving, it helps for when I don't have any cigarettes." He sighed. "I'd give anything for one right now, I'd kill for one."

 "Not the weirdest thing that's happened today." I said. We were walking through some corridor or something, one of those creepy, dimly lit areas that hardly anyone went to, when Tommy slowed down his paced, then stopped completely. "What is it?"

 "Look!" He said happily, pointing onto the ground. There was an unused cigarette lying there. He leaned over and picked it up. "Cool, guess I won't have to kill you then." He giggled.

 "That's not funny." I said. We started walking again when we noticed another cigarette. Tommy picked that one up too.

 "Wow, lucky day!" He looked ahead and picked another one up. "Here's another one, and other one!" He said affably as he kept picking up cigarettes that literally made a line in the hallway, making some sort of route.

 "Tommy, something fishy is going on here, I thin...."

 "Quiet! Look at all this, I'll be set for another two...maybe three hours at least!" He kept following the trail along the hallway, picking them up and adding to the cache in his hand, until it made a curve, leading into a room.

 "We should go..."

 "Fine, fine, just let me get these last few cigs..." He said, then switching to a baby talk voice. "...and then we'll go, okay Danny?" Tommy crawled along the floor and was almost at the doorway to the room. Then I looked up and noticed something over the doorway; it looked like a small slit that went along the entire length of the top of the frame. Something was definitely wrong here. He was right outside the doorway now, about to go through it. I looked closer and noticed something shining against the light, like something metallic. Without thinking I ran up and grabbed Tommy just as he crawled inside the doorway, pulling him back away from the door, causing him to drop all his cigarettes. "What did you do that for?!" He screamed at me, then not one moment later a sharp guillotine blade dropped from the inside of the top of the doorframe, clanging against the floor as it landed.

 "That was close..." I said, my heart racing from the suspense and the close call.

 "Yeah, thanks, that could have been the end of me, Danny." Tommy said, catching his own breath and standing up.

 "Well, I always told you cigarettes would be the cause of your death one day." I joked.

 "That's not funny." He said, glaring at me.

 "We have to get back to the others, FAST." I said urgently.

 "Yeah, let me just get some of these things for myself." He said, picking up about ten. "And one for after lunch." He picked up one more.

 "Let's go!" I ordered!

 "Ok! Ok!" He said, and started walking back, then ran back to the pile quickly and picked a bunch up. "And just some for the road." I ran back and grabbed him forcefully, practically dragging him back with me.

 "From now on, everything I say goes."

 "As long as I got these babies I'll be fine for the rest of the day you can do whatever the hell you want!" Tommy said happily, taking his empty carton out and carefully placing the cigarettes in it, ordering them correctly. When we got back to the main room, we found everyone gathered in a circle again. I thought for sure someone else got `booted' per se, but when we got closer they were setting up a board game, of all things!

 "What's going on here?" I asked everyone.

 "Well..." Vanessa said. "I had this great idea on how to find out who the killer is. We can use the clue game board and pieces to do it, because all of the weapons and locations used in the killings have been in that sort of pattern...and the game is just fun!" She giggled. Tommy and I shrugged to each other and joined the group on the floor, setting the game up.

 "I get Mr. Green!" Richie called out and took the green piece.

 "Professor Plum is mine boys." Jon took the purple piece.

 "I get Ms. Scarlet gentlemen." Vanessa took the red piece.

 "Blue piece is mine!" Tommy yelled out, taking the piece with an evil grin. A cigarette was already lit up and in his mouth.

 "Fine, but that's Mrs. Peacock." Deke said.

 "Oh, I know, I just like the name." He grinned back.

 "White be my favorite color, and substance, so the bitch Mrs. White is mine." Deke announced and took the white piece. That left only yellow, my favorite character. Justin and I both dove for the piece at the same time. He had it in his grasp but I managed to weed it out of his hand.

 "Colonel Mustard is mine! He's a Colonel you know, and so I have to him." I gloated.

 "Well, there's no more pieces for me then!" Justin whined.

 "No, you have a better job, you can place the weapons in their correct rooms." Vanessa said.

 "Cool!" Justin smiled gleefully and took out the little weapon tokens and placed them in the appropriate rooms, revolver in the hallway, wrench in the kitchen, rope in the dining room, knife in the conservatory, and candlestick in the study.

 "Perfect! Now this will give us show us exactly who the killer is!" Vanessa said cheerfully.

 "Umm, how exactly?" Jon asked. Vanessa was stumped.

 "I don't know, it seemed like a good plan at the time." She finally said.

 "Well, actually we did find TWO things out." Justin said. "Firstly, there are six weapons in the game, and only five have been used so far, the lead pipe hasn't been used yet, so chances are the next person to get killed will be with a lead pipe. And secondly, since everyone has died in a different room on the Clue game board, then as long as we steer clear of any rooms on the board no one's been killed in yet, we should be safe. This room we're in now isn't called anything though...well, sometimes we call it the lounge..." Just as Justin was finishing his thought, JTT appeared from behind us and struck the game board with a lead pipe, sending pieces everywhere and breaking the board.

 "Hey! We were playing that you idiot!" Jon yelled at him, we all stood back and to face him, he had a devious looking expression on his face. He was naked except for tight blue boxer-briefs on and also had pentagrams sketched with red paint around his nipples.

 "Geez, put some clothes on will ya!" Tommy shot at him.

 "Yeah, isn't it obvious we're trying to figure out who the killer is?" Justin told him.

 "Come on guys, I think I have a monopoly game we can use to figure the mystery out." Deke said. We all turned around and started towards Deke's dressing room.

 "Not so fast!" JTT said in a demonic voice that echoed throughout studio, we all stopped in our tracked and turned back around. His eyes were glowing red now.

 "Hey! If you don't like us then go back to Home Improvement, hippie!" Jon yelled.

 "Hippie? Hippie? That's the last thing some people called me before they got theirs!" He had an evil laugh.

 "Yeah, well maybe whoever the killer was should have laid off them for a bit more so they could call you other things." Deke joked and everyone laughed.

 "Well, you could say the last person they ever looked upon was me!"

 "You're so stupid! The last person they saw was the killer you dick head, not YOU! Come on, let's go." Justin said.

 "Hey assholes! I AM the killer, I killed them all! I strangled James, I bashed Trent's skull in, I shot Earl, I stabbed Link, I bludgeoned Harvey Keitel, and now I'm going to kill all of you!" He laughed evilly again.

 "With a lead pipe?" I asked.

 "YES! A lead pipe, the tool of God, and Satan!"

 "I'm not going to comment on you saying a stupid little lead pipe is the tool of deities, but, why Clue to kill us with?" Justin asked.

 "Well, when I was a little boy I used to play Clue all the time, but I never got to be Colonel Mustard. Don't take for granted that you can be him, EVER! And now since I never got to be him, I'll make sure NO ONE gets to be him, so when I kill people I'll use Clue. MUA HA HA!"

 "Whoa whoa whoa! Wait a second here, were you the one who left the lame card in my room telling me I was next?" Richie asked.

 "Yes, you were the reason for it all Richie! The reason for everyone's demise! You knew you were going to star beside me in our next acting gig, as my LOVER. That's why you stayed on production, you made it last as long as possible so you don't have to star with me, even though I needed so you badly and I was in love with you!"

 "In love with me? Until this morning we never even met in person!" Richie shot back.

 "It doesn't matter, I watched the show, oh yes, I watched it with a passion, I loved it. I built a shrine just for you, and I basked in its glow every night, wishing...waiting we would be united! And now it's over, and you were going to skimp on it, yes, skimp on the show! The show that defied every other show, showed us all true hope and passion, something out of the ordinary Comicality and JT and Nifty! Something you could enjoy, something believable for once! I need to see the end though, yes, the end! Even though I didn't want it to end I still had to be content with how it ended!" His voice rang throughout the room.

 "So let me get this straight, you're in love with my boyfriend and our television show, and forced him to finished it well. And also you made him finished it QUICKLY but making it difficult at the same time by killing people?" I asked.

 "Well, umm, yes, but, I needed to intimidate you all, show you I meant business."

 "We would have finished already if you didn't keep killing people all the time you moron!" Jon yelled.

 "Well, the thing is, umm..." He was at a loss for words. In his confusion he dropped the lead pipe, and without delay the director appeared from behind, picked up the lead pipe, and started beating him with it over the back of his head.

 "You freak! Freak! Hippie freak! Die Jonathon Taylor Thomas die!" He yelled madly and with rage until JTT dropped to the ground. Then the director held the lead pipe up into the air and impaled it into his heart over and over again. "And don't come back!" He said, catching his breath.

 "Derek! You killed Jonathon Taylor Thomas AND the killer." Justin said happily.

 "He was the killer? I just thought he was being an ass." He shrugged. "Well, he's dead now."

 "Yes! I'm free!" Richie said happily, hugging me tightly. "Hey, there's an opening for the role opposite me, maybe you could snag it." He said to me.

 "Maybe I could baby, maybe I could." I said.

 "Well, now that the fun is over, what do you guys wanna do?" Deke asked.

 "Yeah, I hadn't planned on being alive before lunch, I guess we could get something to eat." Tommy said.

 "I heard that burger place down the street it good." Richie said. The director found a remote control in JTT's fists and pressed a button on it that made the doors unlock and open back up.

 "Burgers? Again? Come on, we're four mature good-looking rich gay teens, I know I'm loaded, let's go to Antonio's Fine Cuisine." Tommy said as we began walked out.

 "Sounds fine with me, I'm up for anything right now, I'm just happy JTT is dead AND he was a psycho, killing two birds with one stone I'd say." Richie said, putting his arm around my shoulders.

 "Hey, you guys coming with?" Deke called back to Jon and Justin.

 "Take a rain check on that, we have some things to talk over!" Justin called back happily, I saw he and Jon were holding hands. I assumed they were finally going to work things out and get back together. We stepped outside of the studio, looking upon the sun and the sky, being glad to be able to look upon them.

 "So what are you guys gonna do now that it's all over?" I asked Deke and Tommy as we made our way to the bus stop.

 "I dunno, take a small break or something, just hang out until we get a good script, I mean a REALLY good script." Tommy said, finishing up his cigarette and not wasting any time to light another one, we all glared at him. "What? I'm not allowed to smoke on the bus or in the restaurant, so I might as well squeeze one more in before then." He said as we sat down on the bus stop. We sat there silent, waiting for the bus to arrive. We were at the prime of our lives and we couldn't even drive yet. Well, there are still SOME disadvantages to youth. As we sat there my hand found Richie's. I really did love him, even more than what was perceived on screen, if that was possible. Then I turned my face to his, gazed into his beautiful eyes and mouthed the words `I love you' to him as I kissed him on the lips softly, when it was over we just smiled at each other, happy to be in each other's presence. Moments like these didn't come very often, not in the fast-paced world that we lived. You have to cherish every moment you have, for it could be your last.

 "Twenty-eight episodes guys, that's how long it took for us to change the world, and now our duty is done." Deke said.

 "Our duty is never done, we were just the avant-garde for this sort of thing, and we will have to carry on and reinforce the legacy." Richie said, he was so wise, and I loved it. "We have to give someone else a turn to make history. Give someone else the chance to show another side of humanity.  Besides, we have to go to school soon, summer is almost over!"

 "Summer really does suck you know." Deke said. Everyone remained quiet after that until the bus arrived, and we got on it, letting it lead us to the next venture and turning point in our lives.