"I have an idea for the next parody short."

"Go ahead."

"Okay, get this: it's The Phantom of the Opera, but with the cast of The Silliest Jurassic Park FanFiction Ever Written."

"Another recasting crossover? Haven't we done enough of those already?"

"I've been inspired to create something. There's no set limit for the number of times a person is allowed to be creative."

"Creative? That's debatable. But go ahead and pitch."

"Okay, so James is Raoul, because he's the generic, boring, handsome side of the love triangle."

"Vampire-James or Normal-James?"

"That's monster-phobic. But yes, the normal one."

"Okay."

"He's in the Prologue- we're keeping that bit- and the monkey music box is Owen's knife or something similarly significant."

"Owen's the Phantom?"

"Yes, as a Stegoceratops. And Sorkin is Madame Giry, as will be revealed in the opening."

"Why?"

"Because she's old and scary. The chandelier will be replaced with the fossil display from Jurassic Park because they both get destroyed, plus they're both hanging objects. With a flash of light, we travel back in time to-"

"A flash of light? From a fossil display?"

". . . It has lights on it. Anyway, we travel back in time to the height of the Opera, where we introduce the prima-donna-hybrid-reptile Zara, who is Carlotta- Zarlotta, if you will- holding the head of Ellie, because reference."

"Distasteful, but okay."

"She sings her song in Hannibal. It's perfect because she's already known for singing . . . plus she's dramatic, and she has a lot of blubber."

"Rude."

"Vic is Piangi- It would also make sense if he was Buquet, but I feel like Owen probably has another older rival that he can off later on. Masrani, maybe? Eh, we'll figure it out. Easier to cast is Humphrey, who will be the elephant prop, because . . . he's an elephant. Firmin and André will both be played by Voxlemnion, because he has two heads and I know for a fact that he can sing. And of course, that makes Donophrion the previous manager, because of conceptual symmetry and all that shit."

"The weird thing is that he's actually related to the real Phantom."

"Via me, yes. I'll probably get a cameo at some point, speaking of which. I did sneak into the real plot while it was happening, after all. But that's another story. Anyway, Penny will be Meg and you'll be Christine."

"Me?!"

"Well, obviously, since it's a love triangle between Owen and James and you . . ."

"You phrased that weirdly."

"Yaoi?"

"Sorry, did I step on your toe?"

"You . . . Nevermind. Anyway, you'll be human."

"Why?"

"Symbolism."

"Good god, is that your answer to everything?"

"Most things. Anyway, the story progresses as usual. Owen, the Stegoceratops-Phantom, lures Christine- Clairestine- into his lair."

"Does he wear a mask?"

"Yes."

"But you'd be able to tell that he's a dinosaur. That's what you're going for, right: having hybrids be metaphors or something?"

"Yes. He uses a mask to conceal the fact that he's a Stegoceratops, but the ineffectiveness of his costume can be a running joke."

"Okay, so people don't like the Phantom because he's a hybrid. But Zara's a hybrid as well, and she's fine? . . ."

"Sure. Because she's not a Stegoceratops."

"Gee. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Anyway, we move on to Moo-sic of the Night . . ."

"That's awful."

"I know. Anyway, next day and the whole mask-removal thing happens, and Clairestine is like, 'No shit. You're a dinosaur,' because it's funny."

"Not really? . . ."

"Meh. Not worth a second draft. So, the story progresses. We'll work out the nitty-gritty details later. I imagine there are plenty of lyrics we'll need to change. The Notes scene will happen and the Phantom's signature, O. G., will be thought to stand for Opera Ghost, but really, it stands for Owen Grady."

"Okay, that's kind of clever."

"It worked out surprisingly well. The law of probability states that when you substitute any given set of characters with the same couple over and over again, you'll eventually stumble upon a joke that works."

"What math books have YOU been reading?"

"I write more than I read."

"That doesn't add up."

"How could it, when I don't know math?"

"Ugh."

"Right, so then stuff happens, we get the toad-voice gag- is there a Jurassic Park joke in there somewhere?"

"How do you mean?"

"Frog DNA."

"I'm sure you'll think of something."

"Anyway, fossil display topples, intermission, six months later the Phantom reappears in the masquerade scene as Red Death, since he's a red Stegoceratops, see?"

"I see."

"Right, then we get a whole bunch of scenes no one cares about, and- Oh, right. Who should be Reyer?"

"I don't know who that is."

"We'll stick Lowery in that part for now, but god knows, he's not old enough."

"I'll be sure to tell him you said that."

"Right. Then you visit your father's grave-"

"If only."

"Damn, Claire, that's cold."

"Granted, but it's true. Go on."

"Okay. You know how the story goes, right? You can fill in the gaps? You're not confused?"

"I wouldn't be here if I was. Besides, knowing you has made my confusion threshold skyrocket."

"Touché. So we pass The Point of No Return, Clairestine unmasks the Phantom, and the audience is all like, 'He's a dinosaur. No shit.' Then it's revealed that Vic got hanged backstage, and everyone freaks out. We reach our climax, where the intrepid James comes to rescue Clairestine from the Phantom, only to be caught immediately and used as a means to force Clairestine into marrying the Phantom. So, nice going there, James. Then we get the famous Phantom-kiss, and-"

"Do I end up with Owen?"

"I feel like that would completely defeat the purpose of the story, but let's do it in the sequel anyway."

"Ah. So, is that it?"

"Yep. Pretty much."

"Can I ask you one question?"

"Sure."

"Why is the Phantom a Stegoceratops?"

". . ."

"Kristine?"

"He's a Stegoceratops because he can be."

"I'm not sure I understand . . ."

"He's the Phantom. He can be anything."

"I don't think so."

"No, you wouldn't, would you? You don't understand."

"Understand what?"

"That the Phantom is what you see in him. Some see him as a human, others as a ghost, and it doesn't stop there. You remember that Ramin Karimloo interpreted the Phantom as being on the spectrum- and yes, it's a little troubling that he believes being autistic could motivate a person to live in the sewers and pretend to be a ghost . . . true as it may be . . . but the point is that he added something to the character that was not there before, and he's remembered as one of the greatest Phantoms of all time. Recently, Robert Guillaume, the first black Phantom, passed away. And I want you to really think about what that means. We all know that being the first of anything is an accomplishment, but we rarely allow ourselves to acknowledge exactly what it means to break these boundaries. Robert Guillaume had to face discrimination while playing the Phantom. People returned their tickets in protest. The hypocrisy is astounding. The core idea behind the Phantom is that he can do great things, but nobody is willing to give him a chance. Yet these people who claim to be fans of musical theatre are unwilling to provide even a scrap of compassion to a damn fine actor. These hypocrites insisted that the very same people they called spooks could not be allowed to play ghosts. They insisted that the Phantom was not black in the story's Canon, that there was a conflict between black skin and white masks . . . and that's why we need Fanon. For you see, it's the fans who see the potential of the Phantom. You don't HAVE to BE anything to play the Phantom, except yourself. Some Phantoms are deformed from birth. Some acquire deformity later on. My god, some Phantoms aren't even deformed in any way whatsoever! Look at all the Phantoms there have been over the years. We have covered a vast spectrum of ghosts, spanning mediums, genres, and styles. Nothing is off limits. Hell, to play the Phantom, you don't even need to be able to sing. I'm looking at you, Gerard Butler. But do you want to know what we all have in common? We are all broken. Those who relate to the Phantom understand his pain in one way or another, whether they've been the victim of actual discrimination or are just a moody teenager. Sometimes both. The point is, the Phantom is no one, and he can therefore be anyone. The Phantom is what you see in him."

"And what do you see in him?"

"Myself. I see myself."

". . ."

"Claire?"

"I understand."

"Does this mean we can green-light this sucker?"

". . . I'll think about it."