Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, places, and events described in poem yonder. (Alas! Alack!)
Regardless of flames,
And icy reviews,
And fans' pains,
And characters' blues,
I must tell -despite shames-
The tale that I now choose.
For it 'twas in the night,
After many a gallant fight,
Between various aristos,
(Drunk to their big toes,)
O'er who would be better,
The dancer or diva,
To take out for cheese curls,
After the theater.
And the music played,
-Not the best ever made,
But enough to cause,
An applause like parade-
The diva was singing,
'till ears were ringing,
Like bells that toll,
To warn the peoples –whole-
Of the approach of an oncoming troll.
Up in the boxes,
In golden lockes,
Wearing skinned foxes,
Sat Miss Moxes,
What she has to do,
With the saga I now tell,
I haven't a clue,
You won't as well.
There was this foppish fellow,
Dressed in lace of yellow,
Whose name was quite mellow,
It, was Raoul, poor devil,
What a terrible name!
It deserves a flame,
Burn it up!
Chop it up!
Place it in pain!
Raoul was watching,
For his darling,
A girl named Christine,
Whose name is on the listing,
In the personal ads,
Of a tacky paper,
Created by cads,
Who live in the theater.
Christine's role was small,
And only a tad perverse,
Because she was a lassie,
And her character was reverse,
But thus was the casting,
Regardless of reason,
Christy-girl played a boy,
Not yet out of child's season.
Christine sang very badly,
Her voice was weak and weary,
For she had been up till day's sally,
Dueling her voice-coach in Parcheesi,
She now was very tired,
Her vocal luster had expired,
The opera managers wished her fired,
Or at least respectably retired.
Up in a box known as five,
There was hollow column,
In which one could bury alive,
A thief or pirate common,
But that was not what it was used for,
It belonged to a phantom,
Who really wasn't dead yet,
Come on phantom, up and at 'em!
The phantom's names was Erik,
Which meant 'proud ruler of all',
(In truth his name was Fredrik,
But he didn't like that at all!)
He lived in the opera,
Off fried sardines and mustard,
-Occasionally he would also dine,
Off turtle soup and custard.
Erik watched Christine also,
-Not that he was sleazy-
He admired the girl!
(She beat him at Parcheesi!)
Erik was sour tempered,
And not in a bliss filled mood,
His casting had been hampered,
By the Diva who had scampered,
Into the auditions,
With a manner much rude,
And stolen the leading,
What was meant for Christine.
What was worse,
And even worser,
And woserest of them all,
Was the cold fact that,
The managers had,
Taken box five,
Seat and all!
'Twas time for vengeance and,
Open wild war,
Sifting like hourglass sand,
Was the destiny for,
The disruption of the opera,
And the removal a',
A certain ugly light-fixture,
That blotted out the view and glister.
It was as the diva sang,
Her lines for act the third,
And as the audiences' ears rang,
A singular, amphibious sound was heard,
For when Carlotta did proclaim,
"I feel without alarm!"
A noise that scholars –all acclaimed-
State is the call of quite barm,
An animal as a toad,
Through the music road,
And sent the patrons a metaphorical whack,
For she sang "Cawak! Cawak!"
Erik liked this odd amusement of the day,
He contrived it with ventriloquism,
And further caused disarray,
To those in the play,
By sending down,
To the ground,
The infamous light fixture,
Known to us all as a chandelier.
This story is now over,
And the moral is quite clear,
When you want to make a point,
Cut down a chandelier!
Bring on da reviews!