A/N: I usually don't make fics like this, but in light of the circumstances – that is, the atrocity that is the Phantom of the Opera sequel, Love Never Dies – I figured I'd make something not as…heartwarming as my other fics. It's not very funny, but I had to write it. What can I say? I have a lot of rage about this thing.

This IS an anti-LND fic. If you are a fan of the show, then read no further. I warned you, so I expect no flaming – though as always, reviews are appreciated. Also, I do not wish any harm on Andrew Lloyd Webber, nor do I want to burn down the Adelphi theatre. It is called jesting, my friends.

It isn't much, but I hope some other Phans who are as appalled by the sequel as I am will enjoy it!

Christine struggled to open her eyes, her mind spinning. It took her a minute to get her eyes to focus properly as she sat up on a carpeted floor. She looked around, her brows furrowed with confusion. Where was she? What was she doing sleeping on the floor? She recognized that she was in a foyer of a theatre, but she had never seen this place in her life. It was certainly not the Opera of her past.

Christine heard someone groan beside her, and she was relieved when he realized it was her husband Raoul, rubbing his eyes as she had been doing a moment ago. But when she looked around a second time she was shocked to find company that wasn't there just a moment before. Scattered around her the figures of Madame Giry, Meg, and the Phantom himself were all awakening from their slumbers, trying to orient themselves to this strange new place.

"Christine…" she heard Raoul mutter perplexedly as he reached for her hand, still dizzy from whatever travel (physical or mental) that brought them to this place. Christine nearly jumped into his arms, happy to have her husband nearby in this strange place. Raoul smiled and hugged her back, then helped them both stand up. Raoul gazed at his surrounding in complete bafflement for a few moments, as Christine's eyes met Meg's for the first time.

"Christine!" Meg squealed, running over to her best friend. They embraced lovingly, as Meg said "I'm so glad you're here! I haven't seen you in ages!" Meg hadn't even noticed her surrounding before recognizing her friend; Christine was all she cared about in that moment.

"Meg! How have you been?" Christine said with a sincere smile, unaware that Raoul had caught sight of an old friend as well.

"You!" both Raoul and the Phantom hissed almost simultaneously. Without letting so much as a second pass the Phantom reached into his cloak to grab his Punjab lasso and Raoul reached to remove his sword from its hilt, both ready to attack the other in an instant.

Luckily, Christine caught sight of their hostile postures and quickly stood between the two of them before either could advance. "No! No, we can't bother with these old hostilities right now. Please, you two, don't start fighting."

The Phantom stared at Christine in shock, as his lasso hung limply from his hands. "Christine? Christine, what on earth are you doing here?"

"What on earth are we doing here?" Raoul said, noticing Madame Giry and Meg for the first time.

"Most importantly, where on earth are we?" said Madame Giry, drawing her daughter to her side.

"That's what I'd like to know," said Christine, before she noticed a sign placed in front of the entryway to the theatre. "Look everyone," she said, pointing. The five of them walked over to the poster and read:

"LOVE NEVER DIES: The Sequel To The Hit Musical, The Phantom Of The Opera"

"'A sequel to The Phantom of the Opera'? What the bloody hell does that mean?" asked the Phantom hotly, who hated ignorance and being flustered by it.

"I have no idea" said Christine.

"I think we're supposed to go watch it," Madame Giry said, nodding her head towards the door. The other shrugged, and nodded apathetically to each other. They made their way into the empty theatre, and all five of them took their seat (Christine making sure to sit between the Phantom and Raoul in case either one of them felt the urge to reach for their weapons again). As the lights dimmed, all five of them thought innocently, It's only a show – what's the worst that can happen?

After over two painstakingly long hours, the show was finally over. And all hell seemed to have broken loose. Christine clung to Raoul in sheer terror, Erik paced the floor ferociously with his Punjab lasso at the ready for anyone who came within a ten-foot radius of him, Madame Giry cussed loudly and obscenely in both English and French, as Meg wept on the floor in heavy childlike sobs.

"How dare they!" the Phantom muttered through his clenched teeth, every one of his words smoldering with rage no one thought possible for human beings to possess. "How dare they believe that I would ever, ever behave the way that foolish imposter behaved? When in my life would I ever feel the urge to own a freak show – the very torture of my childhood! The last thing I want is to be reminded of my past. Do they think I relish at being reminded of what I am every second of every day?"

"And why on earth would I be in business with you in that whole affair!" said Madame Giry, as she wrapped her arms around Meg, who was still weeping pitifully into her shoulder. "The first time I tried to help you I lost my job, I lost my home, and I almost lost one of my own 'daughters'. The last thing I would want to do is work with you again!"

"And you betrayed me – why would I ever trust you again?" the Phantom shouted back at her, resisting the urge to Punjab her for simply daring to speak when his temper was so high.

"Beside the point," continued Madame Giry, not seeming to care much that the Phantom knew that she had told Raoul where to find him that night at the Opera. "I would never let my poor little Meg near a man such as you, much less drag her across the world simply to tend to your every little whim."

"You whored me out for him," sniffed Meg, speaking for the first time. "I because a prostitute for him! You let me do it, mother!"

"Never, never in a million years," cooed Madame Giry, rocking Meg back and forth in her arms. "I would first smash in the bastard's face who dared to lay a figure on you."

"And for him! Him of all people!" said Meg, her anger replacing her sorrow as she brought herself up off the floor. "He's the Phantom of the Opera! He terrorized the very place I lived for so many years! I was horrified of him! Why would I love a scary, ugly man like him?"

The Phantom felt his masked face turn red with fury at her insults. "And her! She's just a little ballet rat who can't even get her feet to work properly! She could never be a singer – she doesn't know the difference between an E flat and a C! I would never take her in as a student, especially after what happened with Christine."

"Well, it's better than being a deformed murdering freak!" said Meg childishly, her weak pride wounded almost as easily as his. The Phantom only responded with a deep, intimidating "Boo!" Meg squealed and hid behind her mother. The Phantom chuckled. That enough proved how well they would get along in real life.

"Christine…you didn't do it, right? You didn't go off and…and make love to him the night before our wedding…did you?" said Raoul, looking at his wife pleadingly.

"Of course not!" said Christine clinging tighter to Raoul. "No one but you – there never was or will be anyone but you!"

"I believe you," said Raoul, "But why on earth would they think you would want to go back after just escaping from him; after all that torture we went through to get free?"

"As much as I'll admit to taking pleasure at the idea of Christine coming back and choosing me instead of you," the Phantom spat at Raoul, "It simply isn't possible. No one knew where I was hiding, and I made every effort possible to make sure that Christine of all people couldn't find me. After having my heart torn in two, I wasn't exactly eager to see the woman who went off and left me for another any time soon or thereafter."

"And I was just starting a new life with my husband, whom I loved with all my heart. I cared for you, and I thought of you after all that happened," Christine said to the Phantom genuinely, "Believe me, I did love you in my own way. But it was Raoul who my heart belonged to; it was Raoul who I wanted to be with for the rest of my life."

The Phantom sighed. "And I knew this. I wouldn't have let you go with him if I believed otherwise, would I? Ten years later, after creating a new life for myself – which, believe me, does not include some bloody Coney-whatother or freaks other then myself – the last thing I would want to do is bring you back into my life."

"And what is this business about me become a gambling, abusive drunk?" said Raoul heatedly. "First of all, I wouldn't dare gamble when I had to support both me and my wife, and I had a proper job to uphold. Secondly, I have never so much as touched hard liquor in my life. And thirdly, I would sooner kill myself then hurt Christine in any way, be it emotionally or physically."

"As much as I hate it, I must agree with the Viscount," said Erik with a slight glare in Raoul's direction. "True, I hardly had my mind in the right place when I dragged Christine down to my lair and I desperately didn't want Christine to run off with Raoul. But when I let you go," he said to Christine," I knew at least that he would be good to you and make you happy. If I believed for even a second that Raoul would harm you in any way, I would never let you go with him."

"This whole thing is complete madness!" bellowed Madame Giry.

"It's like the creator of this pathetic excuse for theatre didn't know us at all!" said the Phantom. "As if I would ever be caught dead writing vaudeville music. Imagine, a musical genius like me creating songs about Coney Island and bathing suits and…removing clothes in public!"

"The whole affair is completely outrageous," said Christine with a sharp nod.

"That is probably one of the few things we will ever agree on," Raoul snickered, nodding towards the Phantom.

"Mother, I want to go home," moaned Meg, "This whole thing feels like some terrible nightmare."

"And we shall go home– back to our real lives. And we can all leave this nightmare behind," said Madame Giry comfortingly.

"I severely doubt I'm going to forget this bad dream any time soon," said Christine mournfully.

"Let's go Christine," Raoul said, following Meg and Madame Giry out the door. Before leaving, Christine turned around to find that the Phantom hadn't moved an inch from where they left him. She knew from the look on his face that he was either composing the greatest masterpiece ever written to preparing to take over the world.

"Aren't you leaving as well?" she asked him, as Raoul very strongly resisted the urge to groan with frustration. Raoul had hoped to deal with the Phantom as minimally as possible in this or any future situation, considering the man had tried to capture his love and kill him. He wasn't about to decapitate him, but he wasn't reasonable enough to simply make bets with him (as others seemed to believe). Christine had a good heart, so of course she cared, but the last thing Raoul needed was an obsessive madman from their past following them home.

"No," said the Phantom, as he started walking back into the theatre.

"You're not going to watch that awful thing again?" said Raoul, flabbergasted and horrified.

"Of course not, you fool," the Phantom snapped. "I'm going to destroy this place. I'm going to make sure no other soul will see this supposed 'sequel' to our lives."

"And how are you planning to do that?"

"Oh, I don't know – break a chandelier or two, set the scores aflame, and such."

"You seem to have lost your inventive and destructive touch, I see" scoffed Raoul.

"Oh please, even you must admit this atrocity isn't worth making a big fuss over," said the Phantom, rolling his eyes behind his mask. "Quick, clean and simple. It will be like it was never created, so I was never there."

Raoul shrugged his shoulders. "Do as you wish." He turned to his wife, and kissed her on the cheek. "Ready my love?", he said, before gently but urgently pushed her towards the door, more than eager to get the hell of there now that the Phantom had 'plans' for the place.

"Goodbye," Christine waved to the Phantom, unable to give more heartfelt and drawn-out farewell to her former Angel. As Christine and Raoul scurried out, the Phantom ripped the poster off the wall, scrutinizing the picture of the composer.

"Andrew Lloyd Webber," he muttered, before ripping the poster apart and walking into the dark, empty theatre. "It will make for good burning material."