Warning! Spoiler for the Hirschfeld Theatre play with David Staller . No flames; I'm not aiming for opera or historical accuracy! I'm just poking some good natured fun at this version. Okay, not good natured, but immature!

Prologue: The creepy scene (the first one)

Christine was leaping around the beach to her father's violin playing, just like she did every day. Today, her father was playing Sweet Child of Mine. Suddenly…

"Whoops! My precious scarf!" she cried as she flung her scarf intentionally into the sea in the hopes that a handsome young noble man would find it and return it to her and steal her away from a stalker in the future where nothing is as it seems and- SLAP (Authoress: Sorry! I got swept up in the drama! –does little dance- This version really is this dramatic) Annnnyway….

"Why, hello little girl! Fancy meeting you here, on the beach where you dance everyday of the year!" said a nasally voiced, much much older man, who was apparently swimming around in the ocean for no apparent reason. After no introductions whatsoever, the two dance an innocent leaping dance that soon turns almost sexual.

"Mmmm…strange nobleman..., Christine murmured.

"Mmmm….maroon scarf and underage dancers…," the man, Raoul (or "Rail", as my

computer likes to say), murmured.

"Uh, what was that last part?" asked Christine troubled.

"Um, isn't that your father being eaten by a walrus?" Raoul said as he sprinted away into the ocean.

Scene the first-Like, I dunno, 10 years later.

Christine was singing a song with apparently no words in a dressing room.

"lalalalalaalalalala-la?" she sang confusedly.

"Idiot…," snorted a disembodied voice. Christine searched every part of the room for the voice, including the desk drawers. Everywhere except for the giant, mysterious mirror that has fog wafting out of it and which seems to be where the voice is coming from.

"What?" Christine asked.

"Er-I mean, that's not how you sing it," the voice said. "It goes like this- Lalalalalalala-da!"

Christine gaped towards the ceiling.

"Ohhhhh, spooky voice…," she mumbled.

"You must sing with emotion! Emotion! EMOTION!( something this play does NOT lack)" he wailed dramatically.

"Wait a minute!" Christine gasped, "I know who you are!"

From his hiding place, Erik cringed. Crap! She knows! I'm dooooomed! Dooooooooooooooooo (goes on until the minimum of overdone drama is achieved) med! I must start a new life as- The Phantom of the Operetta; no one will be able to figure that one out!

"You're my father's ghost! No, wait; you're the spirit of music!" she cried shrilly.

"Uh, yah, that second one, the ghost of singing, or whatever. That's me all right…," Erik murmured.

"Christine! Who are you talking to?" asked Madame Giry as she burst in.

"There was a voice that was teaching me how to sing and which was making vague references to Volitaire's other fine works of fiction," Christine answered nervously, wary of the vengeful and sleep depraved authoress.

"It must be your spirit of music, the one your father said he would send to you- checks previous heading- 'ten' years ago on the beach, April 10, 18--, 4:30:04 EST, 7:40:09 PST," Madame Giry said.

"How do you know all about that day? Were you stalking me?" gaped Christine.

"Er…"

Flashback shows Madame Giry hiding in the bushes near the beach, watching Chrstine, and murmuring "Mmmmm…underage dancers…")

To be continued...CONTINUUUUUUUUUUU(embellished until proper drama is achieved) ED!

Really, Staller's voice sounds discordant when he's just a disembodied voice (don't we all?). But later, he doesn't sound nearly as eerie. Hope ya like-V.

p.s. you can find this version on the internet (makes vague reference to a "U" and a toilet paper TUBE.)