Disclaimer: Why do people even write these things? I know that I personally always skip them and go to the story…HEY STOP SCROLLING AND READ THIS! Anyway, this could be because I have the intension span of a –HEY! Look! A shiny parrot! It's mine!

Aaaanyway, I would like to mention that I don't own any of the POTO characters. Although I would like to own Erik

Erik: Oh, god, no! Why is my suicide machine broken? (points frantically to an unloaded pistol)

Volitaire: BWAHAHAHAHAAH! (chokes on air)------

Checklist

By: The Opera Ghost

AKA: me

Erik checked his to-do list so far. Well, I'm off to a good start, he thought. As he began to scribble down something about needing more candles, the doorknob (no, I don't know why the phantom would have an unlocked door five stories underground, he just does, OKAY?) started to turn.

"Whoa! Look at all of those freaking candles!" exclaimed an irritating fourteen year old girl.

"What? How do you people keep getting down here?" he shouted angrily gesturing to an extremely intricate map of the path to his lair.

"I dunno, but you really need an elevator or something." Said the girl. "Oh, and you could install elevator music too! Doo de dum do dah dum de!," Sang the girl annoyingly.

"You know, I have been meaning to fix that, seeing as I am an incredibly lazy person-Hey! Get out of here!," Erik shouted. The girl ignored him and examined a copy of Good Lairkeeping.

"Hey, wait a second…I know you! You're that spoon idiot from your friends (does the shifty eye thing while looking around for the copyrighting police) story! How the hell do you monsters keep getting down here," He screamed with rage. "I have some really important things I should be doing right now. Don't touch any of those candles," Said Erik as he gestured at his blank to-do list.

"Wait. Mr. Phantom, if you really do get –(checks Google money converter )-3952.7 dollars from the managers per month, some restrictions may apply, why don't you just get electric light?" asked the girl as she unorganized Erik's music.

"I don't know…Why don't you cruel phan-girls just let me have electric lighting? WHY? While you're at it, why not give me a normal face and a job and tons of girlfriends and-,"

The Authoress Volitaire clicks the mouse and Erik and his little bitchy tirade disappear. mumbling: stupid hot Erik…

THE NEXT DAY

THE NEXT DAY

THE NEXT- (Volitaire: Stop messing with the computer, Erik! Erik: Stupid humanity…)

"Well, Christine, aren't you glad that whole crazy phantom-stalker guy-kidnapping you-and-trying-to-kill-Raoul thing is over?" said Meg happily.

"What do you mean? That never happened," answered Christine as she tried to open a letter. "Stupid little adhesive thingy…,"

"You know. Are you telling me that you don't remember the last six months?" Boy she's stupid…I wonder if these shoes make me look fat…

"No, I remember them fine," Christine enters into a dreamy little montage of scenes from A Hard Day's Night.

"Ringo has such a big nose," she muttered dreamily.

"Christine, that NEVER happened! Boy, Volitaire and her psycho friends were right; you ARE an airhead,"

"It's been a hard day's night, dun-nuhnuhnnnnnn….," Christine mumbled breaking out into an air guitar solo.

"The guitar hasn't been invented yet," said Meg irritated. Five minutes pass.

"I like shiny things. Look! A parrot," said Christine, chasing after an obviously stuffed parrot piñata on a string.

"ERIK!" yelled Meg as Erik pouted and went back to whatever it was he was doing before.

"Yay! I finally got the letter open! No, it's empty!" screamed Christine in horror as she dropped to her knees. "Why does this always happen to me? Why? Curse you,Volitaire!" she sobbed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I hurt all of you pathetic little characters' feelings before now. From now on, I'll be much kinder," said the Authoress, a loud booming voice that sounded sort of like a parrot. ( Yah, Sort of…)

"Really?" asked Christine with her clueless face.

"Hell no. Click Hahahaha!" Christine and Meg both disappear.

"Remember me," Said an eerie ghosty ( Yes, I DID just make up a word) Christine voice. "Help, I need somebody…"

"Stop singing Beatles songs!" screamed an eerie Meg voice.

"Phew. Now I can get back to whatever it was that I was doing," sighed Volitaire dreamily.

Meanwhile…

"Soon, I shall have that Giry wench and all the others in my clutches," Erik said in a creepy low voice as Meg and Christine walked off (Christine:"I like ice cream." Meg: "I KNOW! YOU'VE TOLD ME SEVERAL TIMES ALREADY!") .

"Soon, all will tremble with fear as I –(Checks his name tag)- Erik Idonthavealastname, destroy them all. Soon- LOOK! A nickel! Wheee!" Erik cried as he plunged off the roof to pick up the delicious nickel below on the Parisian street.--------

Raoul was innocently licking an ice cream cone and waltzing in that carefree way of his, through a crowd of people with his invisible dance partner, whom he named Matilda.

"Come along Matilda, we shall soon win the dance competition and then go have a party and I like chocolate, oh yes, we , do ,AHH!," he shouted crazily as people edged away from him slowly. Raoul had chocolate for breakfast, apparently.

"Oh look! A nickel! It's my luckylooks up at the sun to make sure it was still day day! I'll just bend down slowly to pick it up, not looking up or anything…,"

As he was saying this, the phantom fell on top of him and swiped the precious nickel.

"Yes! I, the phantom, AKA Monsieur Idonthavealastname, am victorious in my conquests," he shouted gleefully as he got up and swiped Raoul's ice cream.

"Come Matilda, for I am your new master and we have lots of things to do!" he mumbled crazily. We're pretty sure that he had chocolate for breakfast, too.

Thus, the phantom and the elusive Matilda pranced off to kill people. Or drink. Or whatever it is Erik does in his spare time.---------------------

Is this the end of the second chapter? Is Raoul a crazy fop? Does Erik need to get a life? Do I have problems? Tune in next time to find out! (I'll give you a hint: the answer to all three is "Yes." ) Oh, and I'd like to give a thank you to my editors, the voices in my head. What? I don't want to burn things…NOOOOOOO! Mmmm, lobster… ---Sincerely, well, not really,-

Volitaire Idonthavealastnameeither