Bonjour... I'm Melissa... I've never even tried writing a Moulin Rouge fic before, so please forgive this. It's the very first draft, and not much is done, I just wrote it a few minutes ago, but my fellow author Cassie (IsabellaSpinderofSouls) seems very excited about it so I wanted to post it and see how it would do... I'll be writing more soon, and I have spring break next week so hey ;) Anyway, this is just a little idea that poped into my mind one day, it's Moulin Rouge in book form and I'm writing it with my best friend, IsabellaSpinderofSouls who has posted in this section several times... so yeah ;) Anyway, read it and review and tell us honestly what you think... Cass has plans on sending it to God... er, I mean, Baz... once it's done, so help us not to make fools of ourselves by tellin' us what you think, k? Enough rambling now, READ! Oh, and if the italics are being stupid again and not being italics just know that an i between two arrows means there should be italics there ^_^
Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, they all belong to Baz (or God, as known to you MRphiles) and the various other people who have made this beautiful piece come to life. I don't have permission to do any of this, it's all just out of my crazy mind.
Moulin Rouge: The Novel
Paris, 1900
The night is dark and cold; winter's evil is at the feet of every man. On one small roof in the heart of Paris sits a man, aging with grief. He holds his knees towards his body, the only protection from the cold of both the air and hearts.
"iThere was a boy/i," he begins in song,
"iA very strange, enchanted boy
They say he wondered very far
Very far
Over land and sea
A little child, a sad boy
But very wise was he
But then one day
One magic day he passed my way
And while we spoke of many things
Fools and kings
This he said to me:
'The greatest thing you'll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return.'/i"
However, many miles away from him stands the city Montmartre, the center of the Bohemian Revolution. A priest stands outside of it's walls, warning away the visitors. "Turn away from this village of sin!" he cries. Women of the night and junkies line the streets here as the night grows colder.
Yet, the grief of this man is not even his own. His heart is extended to that of Christian, a young writer with a broken heart. Christian lives in the depths of Montmartre, in a complex named iL'amour./i His room is small, and he is wet with his own tears; his dark brown beard is well over-grown. It is silent other than his heavy breaths.
There aren't many decorations in his room, but on his desk sits a typewriter. The word "underwood" is printed across it in bright gold letters. Finally, he arises and walks to it, taking a seat from the desk as his hands extend to the typewriter, placing a piece of the paper into the holder.
i"Promise me you'll tell our story,"/i echos in his head.
He begins to type. "The greatest thing you'll ever learn," he writes, "is just to love and be loved in return.
"The Moulin Rouge. A night club. A dance hall and a bordello ruled over by Harold Zidler. A kingdom of nighttime pleasures, where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. The most beautiful of all of these was the woman I loved, Satine. A courtesan; she sold her love to men. They called her "The Sparkling Diamond", and she was the star of the Moulin Rouge."
With these words, Christian sobbed. "The woman I loved is dead.
"I first came to Paris one year ago. It was the summer of 1899, the summer of love. I knew nothing of the Moulin Rouge, Harold Zidler, or Satine. The world had been swept up in the Bohemian Revolution, and I had traveled from London to be a part of it. On the hill near Paris was the village of Montmartre. It was not as my father had said to me, "A village of sin," but the center of the Bohemian Revolution. Musicians, painters, writers. They were known as "The Children of the Revolution". Yes, I had come to write about what I believed in; truth, beauty, and above all, love. "Always this ridiculous obsession with love!" my father would yell. There was only one problem - I had never been in love! Luckily, right at the very moment, an unconscious Argentinian fell through my roof," he wrote.
Just then, an Argentinian man fell through the ceiling of his room, one leg stuck dangling to the chandelier overhead. Christian jumped up from his seat and raised his heavy brown eyebrows in horror at the sight.
"He was quickly joined by a drawf dressed as a nun," he typed.
Suddenly, the door bursted open. A short man walked in, covered in speckled paint. He raised his heavy black eyebrows and mustache as he said "How do you do? My name is Raymond Toulouse Latrec Monfia! I'm terribly sorry about all this! We were just upstairs rehearsing a play!"
"What?!" Christian responds, not believing what he is hearing from this intruder.
"A play! Something very modern called 'Spectacular Spectacular' and it's set in Switzerland!" He said, excited. "We were rehearsing, but you see, the poor man here has a disease called Narcolepsy. Perfectly fine one moment," he says, adding in a sniff-sniff sound, "unconscious the next!" He then went on to add in snoring noises.
A piece of the ceiling overhead fell into the room which brought to Christian's attention that there was now a rather large hole in his ceiling. He peered up to find three faces; that of Satie, Audrey, and Doc, who he later found out were the musician, writer, and doctor.
"How is he?" Audrey asked, "Wonderful, now the narcoleptic Argentineans is now unconscious and therefore the scenario will not be finished in time to present to the financier tomorrow!"
"He's right, Toulouse," Satie added in, "I still have to finish the music!"
"We'll just have to find someone to read the part," Toulouse replied.
"Where in Heaven's name are we going to find someone to read the role of a young, sensitive Swiss poet/goatherder?!" cried Audrey.
Before Christian knew it, he was upstairs filling in for the unconscious Argentinian with Toulouse, the short man dressed as a nun with a goatee and mustache, Audrey, the cross-dresser with purple hair, Satie, the bald man with glasses and Doc, the old man with a long white beard.
Satie was playing his song on the piano, adding in other instruments as he went along as Toulouse sang "The hills animate with the euphonous symphonies of descant, ha, ha, ha-ha-ha!"
"Oh stop! Stop, stop, stop, stop!" Audrey cried. "Stop that insufferable droning! It's drowning out my words! Can we please stick to a little decorative piano?"
It was slowly becoming apparent to Christian that Satie's music did not agree with Audrey's lyrics for they were just too different.
"I don't think a nun would say that about a hill," added in Doc.
"What if he sings 'The hills are vital, intoning the descant'?" asked Satie.
"No, no! The hills quake and shake!" screams Toulouse.
"No, no, no, no! The hills-" tries Doc.
Suddenly the Argentinian awakens. "The hills are incarnate with symphonic melodies!" he screams, before falling back over into sleep once more.
Doc, "No."
Toulouse, " No, the hills-"
Christian, "The hills-"
Toulouse, "The hills-"
Doc, "Are chanting the eternal mantra!"
"Frank is eating my foot!" yells Satie.
The arguing continued. Finally, the very aggrivated Christian burst into song with "The hills are alive with the sound of music!"
The Argentian man jumps up from his sleep on the bed, almost slipping on the glass covering the floor. "WHOA! 'The hills are alive with the sound of music'! I LOVE it!"
"The hills are," speaks
"Alive with the sound," adds on Toulouse.
"Of music," sings Satie. Then, as he turns to Christian, "It fits perfectly!"
Christian smiles and then adds "With the songs they have sung for a thousand years!"
The four gasp and back away from Christian. "Incardiferous!" Toulouse screams, covering his mouth in amazement. He then turns his head to Audrey. "Audrey! You two should write the play together!"
"I beg your pardon?" Satie asks, his jaw dropping. He would not hear of such a thing. "Goodbye!" he yelled, slamming the door behind him.
Toulouse turned to Christian. "Here's to your first job in Paris!" he says, lifting up his hand in which is a liquid green substance to a toast. He takes a sip.
"Toulouse, Zidler will never agree!" Satie shouts. "No offence, Christian, but have you ever written anything like this before?"
"No!" Christian yells, dumbfounded.
"Ah! The boy has talent!" screams the Argentinean, making his way over to Christian and accidently placing his hand on Christian's crotch. Christian gasps at this and the Agentinean instantly removes his hand. "I like him! ... Nothing funny, I just like talent..." he mumbles.
"'The hills are alive with the sound of music',"Toulouse whispers. "See, Satie! With Christian we can write the truly Bohemian Revolutionary play that we've always dreamt of!"
"But how will we convince Zidler?" cried Satie.
"Satine!" says Toulouse evilly.
i "You'll end up wasting your life with a cancan dancer!" /i The words of Christian's father echoed through his head.
"NO! I can't write the show for the Moulin Rouge!" screamed Christian, backing away to the hole connecting the studio and his room and beginning to crawl down the latter where it was located.
"WHY NOT?!" screamed Toulouse as they all followed him to the latter.
"I...I...I don't even know if I'm a true Bohemian Revolutionist!" he stammered out.
"WHAT?!" They all screamed.
"Do you believe in beauty?!" shrieked Toulouse.
"Yes," answered Christian.
"Freedom?" asked the Argentinian.
"Yes, of course!"
"Truth?" Toulouse asked once more.
"Yes."
"Love?!" yelled Doc.
"Love?! Love! Of all things I believe in love! Love, love is like oxygen, love is a many splendid thing, love lifts us up where we belong, all you need is love!" Christian screamed, his bright blue eyes beaming.
They all chuckled and smiled. "See, you can't fool us!" cried Toulouse. "You're the voice of the Children of the Revolution!"
"WE CAN'T BE FOOLED!" they all yelled gleefully.
"Let's drink to the writer of the world's first Bohemian Revolutionary show!" yelled Toulouse.
They all began to scream happily as Toulouse began to prepare the drinks and the Argentinian planted a big kiss right on Christian's lips. Tonight was a special night, not only because of Christian's first real job, but because it was Christian's first time to try... absinthe, a highly powerful hallucinogenic in a bright shade of green.
"Time to meet the Green Fairy!" shouted Toulouse.
Suddenly, before Christian's eyes, a young fairy appeared. Her skin and eyes had a green-ish tone, and she wore a very slutty, shining green outfit. "I'm the Green Fairy!" she proclaimed.
"The hills are alive with the sound of music!" she sang to them, before she began her dance of darkness.
The laughed with her and before long, they all found themselves on the roof of the L'amour. They sang "Freedom, beauty, truth, and love! You can't fool the Children of the Revolution, no you can't fool the Children of the Revolution!" over and over as the Green Fairy danced and enhanced their pleasures while singing "The hills are alive with the sound of music!" over and over again.
Soon enough, before any of them realized it, the night had come - they were going to the Moulin Rouge to watch Harold Zidler's infamous "Diamond Dogs" perform and pleasure them! Christian would pose as a famous English writer who would read his poetry to Satine, who would then insist to Zidler that Christian write "Spectacular Spectacular"! They plan was perfect! Yet, little did they know at the time, that another man was set to see Satine that night - the duke.
The whores, the women of the underworld poured out into the hall as the men began to arrive.
"Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir?" they sung saracastically as they suddenly burst into dance. The bright and brilliant colors of their make-up and dresses and long, dirty underwear mixed together into a sea of color as they twisted and pulled and slid their bodies down much expecting men.
"Hey sista, go sista, flow sista, soul sista,
Hey sista, go sista, flow sista, soul sista!
Getchi Getchi ya ya da da!
Getchi Getchi ya ya here!
Mocha Choca lata ya ya!
Creole Lady Marmalade!
Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir?
Voulez vous coucher avec moi?" they sang, laughing and teasing the men around them.
"Here we are now, entertain us!
We feel stupid and contagious!" The men began to sing as they came pouring in with their own dance routine, grabbing the girls and swirling them, feeling their bodies in the heat of the dance.
Suddenly, Harold Zidler appeared in the front of all his ladies. The girls continued singing their song, the guys theirs, and Zidler began to sing:
"If life's an awful bore,
And living's just a chore that we do because dying's not much fun,
I have the antidote!
And though I shouldn't gloat at the Moulin Rouge,
You'll have fun, oh la la, and have a little wiggle, too!
Do the can can! Can can can!
Can can can! Can can can!
Outside it may be raining
But in here, it's entertaining
The Moulin Rouge is the place to be!
Outside it may be tragic
But in here, we feel it's magic!
Do the can can can! Can can can!
Can can can! Can can can!"
He ran to the top of the room and held up his arms. The crowd silenced. "The cancan," he whispered.
Everyone got in order to do the cancan before the medley began again; Zidler singing the Cancan, the ladies singing "Lady Marmalade", and the men singing "Here we are now, entertain us".
Finally, the four men sat down at a table. Toulouse came flying across to whisper to Christian "Psst! Psst! Mission accomplished! We successfully evaded Zidler!
Suddenly, always was silent. The lights dimmed as shining papers fell from the ceiling and flickered in the light. Slowly, a woman was coming down on the traipse, dressed in a sparkling dress and top hat.
"It's her! It's the Sparkling Diamond!" Toulouse whispered.
The traipse came to a halt as she, Satine, began to sing.
"The French are glad to die for love
They delight in fighting duels
But I prefer a man who lives
And gives expensive jewels!"
With a flash, the traipse began drop and spin as Satine flew around, her arm extended, reaching for the men surrounding her. She jumped off into the arms of the adoring men.
"A kiss on the hand may be quite continental
But diamonds are a girl's best friend!
A kiss may be grand but it won't pay the rent
Oh, on your humble flats
Or help you feed your, eum, pussycat!" she sang as she collected diamonds and money from the men. She danced with them, kicking her legs high and wiggling in front of them as she passed by.
"Oh my!" yelled the Argentinian.
"Men grow cold as
Girls grow old
And we all lose our charms in the end
But square-cut or pear-shaped
These rocks don't lose their shape
Diamonds are a girl's best friend!" She sang along with all of the other Diamond Dogs as she continued her act.
"Tiffany!" she suddenly yelled out.
Meanwhile, at the table next to Christian, Toulouse and the others, the Duke and Zidler were sitting down, discussing.
"When am I going to meet the girl?" the Duke demanded.
"After her number, I've arranged a special meeting with you and Mademoiselle Satine... totally alone," answered Zidler.
"Cartier!" screamed Satine.
Back at Christian's table, Toulouse began to inform Christian of the exact same thing. "After her number, I've arranged a special meeting with you and Mademoiselle Satine totally alone."
"Alone?" Christian snapped back, his puppy eyes widening in disbelief.
Zidler to the Duke and Toulouse to Christian, they both whisper at the same time "Totally alone..."
"'Cause we are living in a material world
And I am a material girl!" sings Satine. As she walks away from a man she blows a kiss at him. "Come an get me, Boys!" she then screams before being thrown into the air by a large group of men. "Rooooowl!!!!" she screams. "Black star! Roscol! Talk to me, Harry Zidler, tell me all about it!"
After being spun, she climbs onto the stage where Zidler soon joins her.
"There may come a time when a lass needs a lawyer," she sings to Zidler.
"But diamonds are a girl's best friend!" he and the Diamond Dogs reply to her.
"There may come a time when a hard-boiled employer thinks you're," she sings.
"Awful nice," adds Zidler.
"Rowwl! But get that ice or else no dice!" Satine yells.
As the Diamond Dogs continue to sing, Satine and Zidler begin to have a private conversation.
"Is the Duke here, Harry?" Satine asks.
"Yes of course," he replies.
As Satine and Zidler dance around one another, Satine's back becomes turned to Christian's table.
"Where is he?"
Zidler squints as he sees Toulouse spill his drink all over the Duke. "Oh, sorry, sorry!" Toulouse yells.
"He's the one Toulouse is shaking his hanky at..." replies Zidler, oddly.
As they dance around again, Satine squints to see Toulouse turning to Christian and asking to borrow his handkerchief to use on the Duke. Satine sees this and assumes that Christian is the Duke, instead.
"Are you sure?" she replies in the same tone of voice.
As they turn around again, Toulouse leans over to the Duke and begins to wipe the coffee away from his outfit.
"That's the one, Chickpea," he replies.
Toulouse and the Duke begin to spat as the Duke becomes more rude. Before Toulouse could insult the Duke, however, a tall, bald man - the Duke's bodyguard, Warner - shows Toulouse his gun. With this, Toulouse backs away and sits back down.
As the Diamond Dogs finish singing, they line up in a circle, twisting their dresses back and forth, creating a large hidden area in which Satine and Zidler slip for a costume change.
"Will he invest?" Satine asks as she begins changing out of her dress.
"After spending the night with you, how can he refuse?" Zidler replies with an evil grin across his face.
"Well, what's his type?" she asks, enthusiastically, "Wilting flower?" she asks, with a whimper, "Bright and bubbly? Hehehe?" she asks with a gasp, "Or smoldering temptress?" she completes with a growl.
"I'd say... smoldering temptress," growls Zidler. "Remember, we'll all relying on you," he goes on, "Remember, a real show in a real theater, with a real audience, and you'll be..."
"A real actress..." Satine replies softly, a sad look in her eyes. Of course, she quickly wipes it away as the Diamond Dogs drop from around them.
"'Cause that's when those louses go back to their spouses!" Satine belts out. "Diamonds... are a.... girl's... best... friend!" She sings, as she swings her way over to Christian's table. With her feathers and diamonds of her new outfit twisting and shimmering in the light, she lands and makes her way over to Christian.
"I believe you were expecting me," She says with a sly smile.
Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, they all belong to Baz (or God, as known to you MRphiles) and the various other people who have made this beautiful piece come to life. I don't have permission to do any of this, it's all just out of my crazy mind.
Moulin Rouge: The Novel
Paris, 1900
The night is dark and cold; winter's evil is at the feet of every man. On one small roof in the heart of Paris sits a man, aging with grief. He holds his knees towards his body, the only protection from the cold of both the air and hearts.
"iThere was a boy/i," he begins in song,
"iA very strange, enchanted boy
They say he wondered very far
Very far
Over land and sea
A little child, a sad boy
But very wise was he
But then one day
One magic day he passed my way
And while we spoke of many things
Fools and kings
This he said to me:
'The greatest thing you'll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return.'/i"
However, many miles away from him stands the city Montmartre, the center of the Bohemian Revolution. A priest stands outside of it's walls, warning away the visitors. "Turn away from this village of sin!" he cries. Women of the night and junkies line the streets here as the night grows colder.
Yet, the grief of this man is not even his own. His heart is extended to that of Christian, a young writer with a broken heart. Christian lives in the depths of Montmartre, in a complex named iL'amour./i His room is small, and he is wet with his own tears; his dark brown beard is well over-grown. It is silent other than his heavy breaths.
There aren't many decorations in his room, but on his desk sits a typewriter. The word "underwood" is printed across it in bright gold letters. Finally, he arises and walks to it, taking a seat from the desk as his hands extend to the typewriter, placing a piece of the paper into the holder.
i"Promise me you'll tell our story,"/i echos in his head.
He begins to type. "The greatest thing you'll ever learn," he writes, "is just to love and be loved in return.
"The Moulin Rouge. A night club. A dance hall and a bordello ruled over by Harold Zidler. A kingdom of nighttime pleasures, where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. The most beautiful of all of these was the woman I loved, Satine. A courtesan; she sold her love to men. They called her "The Sparkling Diamond", and she was the star of the Moulin Rouge."
With these words, Christian sobbed. "The woman I loved is dead.
"I first came to Paris one year ago. It was the summer of 1899, the summer of love. I knew nothing of the Moulin Rouge, Harold Zidler, or Satine. The world had been swept up in the Bohemian Revolution, and I had traveled from London to be a part of it. On the hill near Paris was the village of Montmartre. It was not as my father had said to me, "A village of sin," but the center of the Bohemian Revolution. Musicians, painters, writers. They were known as "The Children of the Revolution". Yes, I had come to write about what I believed in; truth, beauty, and above all, love. "Always this ridiculous obsession with love!" my father would yell. There was only one problem - I had never been in love! Luckily, right at the very moment, an unconscious Argentinian fell through my roof," he wrote.
Just then, an Argentinian man fell through the ceiling of his room, one leg stuck dangling to the chandelier overhead. Christian jumped up from his seat and raised his heavy brown eyebrows in horror at the sight.
"He was quickly joined by a drawf dressed as a nun," he typed.
Suddenly, the door bursted open. A short man walked in, covered in speckled paint. He raised his heavy black eyebrows and mustache as he said "How do you do? My name is Raymond Toulouse Latrec Monfia! I'm terribly sorry about all this! We were just upstairs rehearsing a play!"
"What?!" Christian responds, not believing what he is hearing from this intruder.
"A play! Something very modern called 'Spectacular Spectacular' and it's set in Switzerland!" He said, excited. "We were rehearsing, but you see, the poor man here has a disease called Narcolepsy. Perfectly fine one moment," he says, adding in a sniff-sniff sound, "unconscious the next!" He then went on to add in snoring noises.
A piece of the ceiling overhead fell into the room which brought to Christian's attention that there was now a rather large hole in his ceiling. He peered up to find three faces; that of Satie, Audrey, and Doc, who he later found out were the musician, writer, and doctor.
"How is he?" Audrey asked, "Wonderful, now the narcoleptic Argentineans is now unconscious and therefore the scenario will not be finished in time to present to the financier tomorrow!"
"He's right, Toulouse," Satie added in, "I still have to finish the music!"
"We'll just have to find someone to read the part," Toulouse replied.
"Where in Heaven's name are we going to find someone to read the role of a young, sensitive Swiss poet/goatherder?!" cried Audrey.
Before Christian knew it, he was upstairs filling in for the unconscious Argentinian with Toulouse, the short man dressed as a nun with a goatee and mustache, Audrey, the cross-dresser with purple hair, Satie, the bald man with glasses and Doc, the old man with a long white beard.
Satie was playing his song on the piano, adding in other instruments as he went along as Toulouse sang "The hills animate with the euphonous symphonies of descant, ha, ha, ha-ha-ha!"
"Oh stop! Stop, stop, stop, stop!" Audrey cried. "Stop that insufferable droning! It's drowning out my words! Can we please stick to a little decorative piano?"
It was slowly becoming apparent to Christian that Satie's music did not agree with Audrey's lyrics for they were just too different.
"I don't think a nun would say that about a hill," added in Doc.
"What if he sings 'The hills are vital, intoning the descant'?" asked Satie.
"No, no! The hills quake and shake!" screams Toulouse.
"No, no, no, no! The hills-" tries Doc.
Suddenly the Argentinian awakens. "The hills are incarnate with symphonic melodies!" he screams, before falling back over into sleep once more.
Doc, "No."
Toulouse, " No, the hills-"
Christian, "The hills-"
Toulouse, "The hills-"
Doc, "Are chanting the eternal mantra!"
"Frank is eating my foot!" yells Satie.
The arguing continued. Finally, the very aggrivated Christian burst into song with "The hills are alive with the sound of music!"
The Argentian man jumps up from his sleep on the bed, almost slipping on the glass covering the floor. "WHOA! 'The hills are alive with the sound of music'! I LOVE it!"
"The hills are," speaks
"Alive with the sound," adds on Toulouse.
"Of music," sings Satie. Then, as he turns to Christian, "It fits perfectly!"
Christian smiles and then adds "With the songs they have sung for a thousand years!"
The four gasp and back away from Christian. "Incardiferous!" Toulouse screams, covering his mouth in amazement. He then turns his head to Audrey. "Audrey! You two should write the play together!"
"I beg your pardon?" Satie asks, his jaw dropping. He would not hear of such a thing. "Goodbye!" he yelled, slamming the door behind him.
Toulouse turned to Christian. "Here's to your first job in Paris!" he says, lifting up his hand in which is a liquid green substance to a toast. He takes a sip.
"Toulouse, Zidler will never agree!" Satie shouts. "No offence, Christian, but have you ever written anything like this before?"
"No!" Christian yells, dumbfounded.
"Ah! The boy has talent!" screams the Argentinean, making his way over to Christian and accidently placing his hand on Christian's crotch. Christian gasps at this and the Agentinean instantly removes his hand. "I like him! ... Nothing funny, I just like talent..." he mumbles.
"'The hills are alive with the sound of music',"Toulouse whispers. "See, Satie! With Christian we can write the truly Bohemian Revolutionary play that we've always dreamt of!"
"But how will we convince Zidler?" cried Satie.
"Satine!" says Toulouse evilly.
i "You'll end up wasting your life with a cancan dancer!" /i The words of Christian's father echoed through his head.
"NO! I can't write the show for the Moulin Rouge!" screamed Christian, backing away to the hole connecting the studio and his room and beginning to crawl down the latter where it was located.
"WHY NOT?!" screamed Toulouse as they all followed him to the latter.
"I...I...I don't even know if I'm a true Bohemian Revolutionist!" he stammered out.
"WHAT?!" They all screamed.
"Do you believe in beauty?!" shrieked Toulouse.
"Yes," answered Christian.
"Freedom?" asked the Argentinian.
"Yes, of course!"
"Truth?" Toulouse asked once more.
"Yes."
"Love?!" yelled Doc.
"Love?! Love! Of all things I believe in love! Love, love is like oxygen, love is a many splendid thing, love lifts us up where we belong, all you need is love!" Christian screamed, his bright blue eyes beaming.
They all chuckled and smiled. "See, you can't fool us!" cried Toulouse. "You're the voice of the Children of the Revolution!"
"WE CAN'T BE FOOLED!" they all yelled gleefully.
"Let's drink to the writer of the world's first Bohemian Revolutionary show!" yelled Toulouse.
They all began to scream happily as Toulouse began to prepare the drinks and the Argentinian planted a big kiss right on Christian's lips. Tonight was a special night, not only because of Christian's first real job, but because it was Christian's first time to try... absinthe, a highly powerful hallucinogenic in a bright shade of green.
"Time to meet the Green Fairy!" shouted Toulouse.
Suddenly, before Christian's eyes, a young fairy appeared. Her skin and eyes had a green-ish tone, and she wore a very slutty, shining green outfit. "I'm the Green Fairy!" she proclaimed.
"The hills are alive with the sound of music!" she sang to them, before she began her dance of darkness.
The laughed with her and before long, they all found themselves on the roof of the L'amour. They sang "Freedom, beauty, truth, and love! You can't fool the Children of the Revolution, no you can't fool the Children of the Revolution!" over and over as the Green Fairy danced and enhanced their pleasures while singing "The hills are alive with the sound of music!" over and over again.
Soon enough, before any of them realized it, the night had come - they were going to the Moulin Rouge to watch Harold Zidler's infamous "Diamond Dogs" perform and pleasure them! Christian would pose as a famous English writer who would read his poetry to Satine, who would then insist to Zidler that Christian write "Spectacular Spectacular"! They plan was perfect! Yet, little did they know at the time, that another man was set to see Satine that night - the duke.
The whores, the women of the underworld poured out into the hall as the men began to arrive.
"Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir?" they sung saracastically as they suddenly burst into dance. The bright and brilliant colors of their make-up and dresses and long, dirty underwear mixed together into a sea of color as they twisted and pulled and slid their bodies down much expecting men.
"Hey sista, go sista, flow sista, soul sista,
Hey sista, go sista, flow sista, soul sista!
Getchi Getchi ya ya da da!
Getchi Getchi ya ya here!
Mocha Choca lata ya ya!
Creole Lady Marmalade!
Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir?
Voulez vous coucher avec moi?" they sang, laughing and teasing the men around them.
"Here we are now, entertain us!
We feel stupid and contagious!" The men began to sing as they came pouring in with their own dance routine, grabbing the girls and swirling them, feeling their bodies in the heat of the dance.
Suddenly, Harold Zidler appeared in the front of all his ladies. The girls continued singing their song, the guys theirs, and Zidler began to sing:
"If life's an awful bore,
And living's just a chore that we do because dying's not much fun,
I have the antidote!
And though I shouldn't gloat at the Moulin Rouge,
You'll have fun, oh la la, and have a little wiggle, too!
Do the can can! Can can can!
Can can can! Can can can!
Outside it may be raining
But in here, it's entertaining
The Moulin Rouge is the place to be!
Outside it may be tragic
But in here, we feel it's magic!
Do the can can can! Can can can!
Can can can! Can can can!"
He ran to the top of the room and held up his arms. The crowd silenced. "The cancan," he whispered.
Everyone got in order to do the cancan before the medley began again; Zidler singing the Cancan, the ladies singing "Lady Marmalade", and the men singing "Here we are now, entertain us".
Finally, the four men sat down at a table. Toulouse came flying across to whisper to Christian "Psst! Psst! Mission accomplished! We successfully evaded Zidler!
Suddenly, always was silent. The lights dimmed as shining papers fell from the ceiling and flickered in the light. Slowly, a woman was coming down on the traipse, dressed in a sparkling dress and top hat.
"It's her! It's the Sparkling Diamond!" Toulouse whispered.
The traipse came to a halt as she, Satine, began to sing.
"The French are glad to die for love
They delight in fighting duels
But I prefer a man who lives
And gives expensive jewels!"
With a flash, the traipse began drop and spin as Satine flew around, her arm extended, reaching for the men surrounding her. She jumped off into the arms of the adoring men.
"A kiss on the hand may be quite continental
But diamonds are a girl's best friend!
A kiss may be grand but it won't pay the rent
Oh, on your humble flats
Or help you feed your, eum, pussycat!" she sang as she collected diamonds and money from the men. She danced with them, kicking her legs high and wiggling in front of them as she passed by.
"Oh my!" yelled the Argentinian.
"Men grow cold as
Girls grow old
And we all lose our charms in the end
But square-cut or pear-shaped
These rocks don't lose their shape
Diamonds are a girl's best friend!" She sang along with all of the other Diamond Dogs as she continued her act.
"Tiffany!" she suddenly yelled out.
Meanwhile, at the table next to Christian, Toulouse and the others, the Duke and Zidler were sitting down, discussing.
"When am I going to meet the girl?" the Duke demanded.
"After her number, I've arranged a special meeting with you and Mademoiselle Satine... totally alone," answered Zidler.
"Cartier!" screamed Satine.
Back at Christian's table, Toulouse began to inform Christian of the exact same thing. "After her number, I've arranged a special meeting with you and Mademoiselle Satine totally alone."
"Alone?" Christian snapped back, his puppy eyes widening in disbelief.
Zidler to the Duke and Toulouse to Christian, they both whisper at the same time "Totally alone..."
"'Cause we are living in a material world
And I am a material girl!" sings Satine. As she walks away from a man she blows a kiss at him. "Come an get me, Boys!" she then screams before being thrown into the air by a large group of men. "Rooooowl!!!!" she screams. "Black star! Roscol! Talk to me, Harry Zidler, tell me all about it!"
After being spun, she climbs onto the stage where Zidler soon joins her.
"There may come a time when a lass needs a lawyer," she sings to Zidler.
"But diamonds are a girl's best friend!" he and the Diamond Dogs reply to her.
"There may come a time when a hard-boiled employer thinks you're," she sings.
"Awful nice," adds Zidler.
"Rowwl! But get that ice or else no dice!" Satine yells.
As the Diamond Dogs continue to sing, Satine and Zidler begin to have a private conversation.
"Is the Duke here, Harry?" Satine asks.
"Yes of course," he replies.
As Satine and Zidler dance around one another, Satine's back becomes turned to Christian's table.
"Where is he?"
Zidler squints as he sees Toulouse spill his drink all over the Duke. "Oh, sorry, sorry!" Toulouse yells.
"He's the one Toulouse is shaking his hanky at..." replies Zidler, oddly.
As they dance around again, Satine squints to see Toulouse turning to Christian and asking to borrow his handkerchief to use on the Duke. Satine sees this and assumes that Christian is the Duke, instead.
"Are you sure?" she replies in the same tone of voice.
As they turn around again, Toulouse leans over to the Duke and begins to wipe the coffee away from his outfit.
"That's the one, Chickpea," he replies.
Toulouse and the Duke begin to spat as the Duke becomes more rude. Before Toulouse could insult the Duke, however, a tall, bald man - the Duke's bodyguard, Warner - shows Toulouse his gun. With this, Toulouse backs away and sits back down.
As the Diamond Dogs finish singing, they line up in a circle, twisting their dresses back and forth, creating a large hidden area in which Satine and Zidler slip for a costume change.
"Will he invest?" Satine asks as she begins changing out of her dress.
"After spending the night with you, how can he refuse?" Zidler replies with an evil grin across his face.
"Well, what's his type?" she asks, enthusiastically, "Wilting flower?" she asks, with a whimper, "Bright and bubbly? Hehehe?" she asks with a gasp, "Or smoldering temptress?" she completes with a growl.
"I'd say... smoldering temptress," growls Zidler. "Remember, we'll all relying on you," he goes on, "Remember, a real show in a real theater, with a real audience, and you'll be..."
"A real actress..." Satine replies softly, a sad look in her eyes. Of course, she quickly wipes it away as the Diamond Dogs drop from around them.
"'Cause that's when those louses go back to their spouses!" Satine belts out. "Diamonds... are a.... girl's... best... friend!" She sings, as she swings her way over to Christian's table. With her feathers and diamonds of her new outfit twisting and shimmering in the light, she lands and makes her way over to Christian.
"I believe you were expecting me," She says with a sly smile.