Author's blurb: I updated this parody (inspired by "The Phantom of the Opera in 15 Minutes" written by Cleolinda on Livejournal) during the summer. The story remains unchanged, just edited some and enhanced with new snarkiness! Have fun and enjoy. Reviews are appreciated!

Chapter One: Follow the Black/White Road

(Some black and white auction scene. Opera Populaire is a dilapidated wreck. Little birds fly around pooping on everyone's heads.)

Auctioneer: Sold! Thanks for your business, Mister. [wipes bird poo off head] Anybody want a Hannibal poster? Yes, thank you. How about a fake gun with some skulls?

Mr. Borgin: I'll take the skulls. They're real, right? I need them for a movie set.

Auctioneer: Ah, yes. For your little sketchy booth set up in Knockturn Alley, eh?

Mr. Borgin: How dare you call my esteemed Dark wizarding shop a sket—

Auctioneer: Well, just pay up, how about it? I have a wife and three kids I need to feed. Moving on…

Madame Giry: Admit it, my hat's pretty awesome. Hello, Beautiful Stranger in the Wheelchair. OH! You're the Vicomte de Chagny! So you survived the Phantom's Lair from all those years ago, didn't you?

Raoul: Who the hell are you?...yes, yes, I did. Hi. What's up?

Madame Giry: Not much, Vicomte. Just listening to this old guy blabber on about old theater items. Shh, I wanna listen….

Auctioneer: Next up, the sculpted ancestor of the ASL-signing gorilla Koko. Look, he can play the cymbals!

Crowd: Oh joy.

Auctioneer: So who wants this?

Raoul: Can I have it?

Madame Giry: NO! Give it to me! Don't listen to him!

Raoul: [to auctioneer] I can give you the names of some spectacular barbers if you give it to me, I really do enjoy that mustache of yours….

Auctioneer: To the Vicomte de Chagny, free of charge! *bangs gavel*

Raoul: YAY! [springs up from chair and performs a dance reminiscent of "I've Got A Golden Ticket"]

Madame Giry: Mr. Vicomte, you're unfair! *cries *

Raoul: [Sits back down in wheelchair] Please, Madame…just shut up.

Auctioneer: Moving on! Our next item is a chandelier. THE CHANDELIER. A Swarovsky creation smushed to pieces by the Phantom of the Opera 30-plus years ago. *cough* They say it's haunted *cough*. Very light, compact and portable. With light bulbs still in their infancy, there's a slight chance of electrocution. No returns or refunds for this baby. Up for grabs! Any takers?

[Assistants whisk off the fabric covering the chandelier. Chandelier comes to life and starts rising back to the ceiling of its own accord. Theater patches itself back up. It must be haunted too. Somewhere in the opera house, a cue is given and a well-paid musician plays some very loud chromatic scales on the organ. Big, evil, Judgment-Day-has-come music.]

Chandelier: GUZZT!

Crowd: OMFG what's happening?!

Auctioneer: Do not panic! It's just like The Wizard of Oz!

Mr. Borgin: The Wizard of WHAT?

Flying birds: Oh, crap.

Raoul/Madame Giry: What a wonderful trip down Memory Lane.

[Everyone in the Theater slowly disappears in a whirl of flying dust as the Opera Populaire finishes its transformation and smiles at itself. It has successfully anti-aged to 1870.]

Disembodied voice: Umm, I don't think this is Munchkinland.