Diary of Raoul: The Fop of the Opera
Chapter One: I got a diary, yeeee!
Disclaimer: I do not own any Phantom of the Opera characters, especially Raoul, who was (un)fortunately my muse for this!
Dear Diary,
Date: I lost count, teehee
Mood: Supfabular
Hey diary, it's me, Raoul, your favorite Victome! But then again, I suppose you would know this is me, considering I bought you at that local pawn store from that drunk guy. What had his name been? Oh yes, Buquet! He was such a sweetie, wasn't he? Gave you to me, as he said, because I had such pretty eyes and a wad of cash in my hand. Too cute!
Uh-Hmm, well either way, that's not important anyway, now is it? I have you now, and I can write about whatever I want!
…..
…..uh…..
…..well….
Got any suggestions, diary? I'm trying to think of what someone normal would write. About their hair? The new shoes they got at Nine West? Oh diary, I absolutely love them, with their leather details and three inch heel! My butler asked me how I would ever manage to walk in them, and I stared at him as though he were crazy. I mean, didn't he know me?! I can accomplish anything, so long as it involves makeup and dresses and shoes and hair and—
Oh diary, I'm getting carried away again! I don't want to just write about those things in here, I want to…expand my horizons. Try new outfits, experiment with more makeup! Don't you like my analogies? Personally, I think they're stupendously perfect! Just like me, baby.
Hm, well, it seems my ADD drugs are wearing off, cuz man, my thoughts are swirling! From shoes, to my dog Chester, to that peanut butter and jelly sandwich I just made my butler make, to the Opera Populaire—
Hey, omg, the Opera House! How could I forget that?! It was only the most important thing in my life!
…Well, maybe not life. I mean, I'm pretty sure I care more about my hair and pineapple lip gloss than that…
In fact, I honestly don't really care for the Opera House at all. Stupid me just had to sign up to be the sponsor or whatever! I mean, I was tricked! Phillipe, or Phil, or that guy that is my brother told me that it was for the fashion show, not the Opera House! My god, I've never even attended an Opera in my life!
Is that the thing where men in ice skates slam each other into walls and try to get a goal? If it's not, than I want out! After all, how can I have any fun if there aren't any guys?
Sigh… tralalala fa…
Well actually, now that I think about it, there were guys at the Opera House when I visited today, but not a lot. Mostly there were just bitches, including one that nearly dropped her huge hat one top of me. Seriously, their costumes looked like they had had one too many to drink, with all the lace and chains and gold nipples…
Ugh, and that gold nippled guy wasn't even cute! I mean, sure, nice body, but I could not spend the rest of the time looking at him, gawd! Maybe if he put all the gold on his nipples on his face I could bear him, and maybe give him a shot. I don't know, though, considering I already have someone else in mind.
Truth be told though, I don't even know his real name, which really is fine with me; it adds to his mystique! Everyone was whispering—none too discreetly, mind you—about him, which lets me know that he is almost as popular as me. Almost, that is, with a capital A.
He goes by the seductive name 'Phantom of the Opera', something I find so original! I mean, we're in an opera, and no one has seen him! Genius! I wonder if he is a genius? Mmm, all the better…
Oh Raoul, there you go again, straying form what you wanted to say! Well, diary, I saw more exciting things at the Opera House than just Monsieur Phantom and his mysterious, sexy appeal.
There had been girls dancing when I arrived, and I could not help but notice how scantily clad they were, jumping around in their chains. That was when I first started questioning if operas were really pornos, and when I would get my piece of action.
I mean, I wouldn't mind wearing that outfit, with the sheer skirt and bosom pushing top. I really need them to lift up, anyways; you could hardly notice them in this jacket and frilly shirt! It was a crisis, I tell you, a crisis! And because of that, I'm sure I didn't leave an impression; the managers only looked at me once, ONCE! Can you imagine the horror I felt diary? The shame?
And, to make matters worse, it wasn't until I got home and escaped the terrible croaking voice of Carlotta and her evil hat that I realized that I had had a hair out of place the ENTIRE time I had been at the Opera House. It was, dearest diary, cause to scream, and I had promptly done so, screaming what I hoped was bloody murder until my butler and stylist, Fabio, arrived and straightened it out. But by then I had already awakened half the dogs in the neighborhood, and I can still hear them howling now as I sit here stroking my long once again flawless hair why I write to—or is it in?—you my lovely, slightly-smelling-like-beer, diary! You are totally worth that 1,000 dollar bill I had in my pocket and was planning on donating to the Opera House that day! You are!
Well, diary, it's time to stick you under my pillow and hope that in the morning I'll have a quarter under there with you. Because if the Tooth Fairy takes you, I swear I'll knock the teeth out of that bitch! If she even has teeth. I don't know, against all my efforts, I've never seen her! It stills makes me pout.
Well, dairy, goodnight, and once I take these curlers out of my hair, put all my cream on, shave my legs and eat a cherry, I will join you in sweet slumber!
And as long as I have the Phantom on my mind, it will be sweet!
I wonder if he knows what an opera is?
Love to the ends of the earth (or at least I would, if I knew where that was),
Raoul-kins!
Ok, so what did you think? This is my first time writing a humorous story, since I'm usually all serious and angsty, so I decided to diverge a little into this. And personally, Raoul's one of the best characters in Phantom of the Opera, cuz he's just so funny!
But please review and tell me if you want more, cuz I'm sure I can stir up some more foppish thoughts for you!