Moulin Madness

Disclaimer: Moulin Rouge isn't mine. Neither are assorted Harry Potter characters. Neither are...many other things.

Author's Note: This is entirely weird. I wanted to try to write something funny, and, well...it's not that funny.

It is, however, very odd.

It does get better after you're past the beginning.

...I hope.

It also probably won't be updated much, as....well, you know about me and chapter fics. We don't exactly get along.

Chapter One: A Turn Of Events

All in all, this was a very disappointing day for Christian Claremont.

First, he had woken up that morning to find a bundle of hate letters at his door that claimed he'd stolen Your Song from some gay singer with huge glasses and bad fashion sense. Naturally, he'd been completely offended - that song had poured from the depths of his heart to profess his sudden and undying love for Satine!

Plus, he'd hit a High C in it.

Take that, Charlotte Church.

Next, he'd waited the entire previous night for aforementioned Satine to elope with him, and she hadn't even come back from the Moulin Rouge! He'd composed seventeen songs for her as he waited, the first entitled 'Come Fly With Me' and the last 'Ha! I Don't Care If You Never Come Back Because I Always Liked Nini Better Anyway So Forget You!'

And then, a most disappointing event had occurred when the love of his life finally arrived. She was, it turned out, staying with the Duke.

Before then, Christian hadn't really seen why anyone could even pretend that there was the teensiest bit of competition between himself and dear ol' Dukey. Sure, the Duke was rich and the fate of the production lay solely in his hands, but Christian was handsome, witty, poetic, romantic, naive - everything that a girl could possibly want!

He even had a cleft in his chin.

Could some lowly old crazed frog-stomping Duke beat that?!?

He thought not.

But now, quite sadly, she'd decided to stay with the Duke. And she seemed to have developed quite a nasty cough, as well.

Christian sighed.

An ugly old man and a bout of bronchitis. It sure isn't her day.

But all of this, he could have handled. After all, he was the protagonist, the romantic hero! It had been quite obvious that he would win Satine back and they would have their happily ever after!

But then...

Then he'd received an anonymous but very official-looking letter that informed him that his last name was not Claremont after all, but James.

"James!" he moaned miserably aloud. James was not at all the ideal surname for a romantic hero!! Claremont was so much more mysterious and alluring!

And it did start with the same letter as Christian. Always a plus.

It's no wonder why Satine chose the Duke over me, Christian thought glumly, crossing his arms in front of his chest and checking quickly in the mirror to see that his heartbroken-and-brooding expression was flawless. He probably has a nice last name! Not...James.

An agonized sob escaped Christian's lips as the door swung open to reveal Toulouse Lautrec.

"Things awen't aways what they seem," he said comfortingly.

"Things are exactly the way they seem!" Christian shot back woefully.

"She woves you, Chwistian! I know she woves you!"

"Oh," Christian said, surprised. "Well, so do I."

"Why awe you sobbing, then?" Toulouse asked in confusion.

"M...my last name," Christian said in between weak sniffles, "Is...James."

Toulouse gasped in horror.

"James?!" he repeated, aghast. "I take it back, Chwistian. Pewhaps she doesn't wove you anymowe. I'm not suwe if I would."

Christian sighed miserably. "I know. My life is over! Over!"

"Pewhaps you could concentwate on getting Satine back," Toulouse suggested helpfully.

Christian nodded weakly, wiping away his tears. "Good idea. I think I'll go stand outside in the rain in front of the Moulin Rouge and yell her name a few times. You know, to ease the pain."

Toulouse nodded in understanding as Christian stood up, shaking, and punched his fist in the air.

"I can overcome this!" he proclaimed bravely. "I will survive, or my name isn't Christian Claremont!"

"But, Chwistian," Toulouse reminded him nervously, "Youw name isn't Chwistian Cwaremont."

Devastated, destroyed, and completely desolate, Christian broke down and burst into tears.

* * *

Satine sighed impatiently. Where was he?? According to her calculations, Christian was supposed to have yelled out her name in agony five minutes ago! And to a woman who would be dead in approximately eight hours, fifteen minutes, and thirty-two seconds, five minutes was quite a large amount of time to waste.

"Saaaaaaatine! Satiiine!"

"About time," she yelled back. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you?"

"I'm sorry," Christian apologized. "I had a little emotional blow. But I overcame it!"

"You mean my telling you I didn't love you?"

"Oh, no," Christian said easily. "It was much worse than that."

Satine rolled her eyes. For a hopeless romantic, he sure wasn't giving off the 'all-you-need-is-love!' vibe right now.

"Well, you screamed my name twice," she informed him. "Now I'm going to walk inside and then stare out the window, crying, and you're going to get punched and dragged back inside."

Christian was quiet for a moment.

"Oops."

"What?"

"Toulouse has me confused! I think he started that speech already!"

This was too much for Satine.

"Listen, BUDDY!" she screeched. "I am going to be DEAD in approximately eight hours, fourteen minutes, and twenty-five seconds, and I want to live out my last day as the perfect tragic heroine! Got it??"

"Think so," Christian yelped.

"Good," Satine snapped before storming inside to burst into sobs.

Honestly. Why couldn't she have fallen madly and deeply in love with someone with the slightest bit of intelligence?

And a better last name than James.

Sheesh.

* * *

"It's hard, you know?" the Duke sniffled. She nodded understandingly.

"Being the bad guy," he continued desolately. "When I signed onto this project, I was under the false understanding that I was supposed to be cunning, handsome, and malevolent! Now I'm an insane rodent-like moron with a squeaky voice and a penchant for squishing frogs!"

Perching thoughtfully on his shoulder, the Green Fairy announced, "Well, quite personally, I thought that Roxanne sequence was very intense."

"Thanks," the Duke said, brightening considerably. "I consider it my best work to date."

The Green Fairy nodded. "You were pretty malevolent there."

"But I want to be handsome!" the Duke stood from his bar stool, striking a dramatic pose. "Legendary! Seductive! I want to be..."

An intense pause filled the air as the few people present in the Moulin Rouge studied him interestedly.

"Count VonGroovy," he finished in a stage whisper.

"Count VonGroovy!" the Green Fairy repeated with an appreciative nod. "I've heard about him! Wasn't he going to be the one who takes Satine and Christian out in a hot air balloon to his Gothic French chateau, seduces them both, and then gets them hooked on morphine?"

The Duke nodded with a grin. "That's the one!"

The Green Fairy sighed. "He woulda been good."

"Satine would have fallen for me then! And Christian too!" The Duke paused and added as a hasty afterthought, "Not that I want him to or anything. You know. Right. Nope. Don't swing that way. Not I!"

High, nervous laughter escaped his lips.

The Green Fairy studied him quizzically for a moment before responding, in true Dr. Evil fashion, "Riiiight."

With a sigh, Dukeykins drowned his four hundred and fifty eighth shot of Absinthe before sliding the empty glass across the counter and requesting, "Fill 'er up, Tom."

"Are ya sure, sir?" asked the toothless bartender tentatively. "You've consumed an unhealthy amount of absinthe. I'm really surprised that you're not dead yet."

"Hey!" the Duke said with a defiant sneer. "The author likes me! She wouldn't kill me off!"

And with those fatal words, he dropped lifelessly to the floor, dead as lead.

...

Mwehehe. Just kidding.

"Go back to Harry Potter universe or wherever you came from!" shot the Duke, pulling a face.

"Maybe the author likes me too!" Tom shot back. "I'm obviously her favorite from the Harry Potter series if she was kind enough to bring me here!"

"Hahaha!"

Hearty laughter immediately filled their ears.

"Not so, my good fellow, not so!" a dazzlingly handsome wizard in robes of violet announced with a brilliant smile. "Everyone who's anyone knows that the author favors me! And why shouldn't she? I am, after all, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, third class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League and five time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award!"

With a chuckle, he studied everyone's dazed expressions and gave the lot a roguish wink.

"Now, I'm off to find some of those gorgeous can-can girls," he announced brightly. "Who's that really radiant one? Satin?"

"Satine," the Duke said, his eyes bulging as he began to twitch. "And she...is...MINE!!!!!!"

Easy laughter spilled from Gilderoy's lips. "Ah, she'll be the judge of that, good sir!"

The Duke studied him in disbelief for a moment, shocked that his 'I am mad and you must listen to me or I'll kill you in some cruel and unusual way!' act hadn't worked. This fellow must have truly been thick.

After taking a deep breath, he made another attempt.

"I don't...like...other...people...touching...my...THINGS!!!"

"Now, now, let's not get risqué!" ordered Gilderoy jovially. "I assure you, no one wants to touch your....things."

He winked at the Duke, who was positively infuriated.

"Listen, you," sneered the Duke violently. "I squish frogs! Squish them!! Squish 'em good, squish 'em dead! You don't want to mess with me!!"

Gilderoy chuckled. "Ah, squishing frogs! Quite violent and messy on the shoes, isn't it?" He cast a quick glance at the Duke's feet. "And, well, I won't please you with the entire list of evildoers that I've defeated, but you can find them in my published works Break With a Banshee, Gadding With Ghouls, Holidays With Hags, Travels With Trolls, Voyages With Vampires, Wandering With Werewolves, and Year With The Yeti!"

Everyone studied him silently once more.

"Clever titles, aren't they?" he asked, beaming proudly.

"Well, I'll be off then!" he announced after another moment of silence. "Wonderful meeting you! And don't feel compelled to say it - I already know it was wonderful meeting magical me!"

Tom reminded himself never to speak or think of favorite Harry Potter characters in the presence of She's a Star.

Ever.

Again.

After Gilderoy, Christian was almost a welcome sight to the Duke. He'd always thought the writer to be quite a 'pretty boy', but the encounter with 'Magical Me' had forever changed his outlook on the expression.

"Life is tough," the writer announced glumly as he sank down next to the Duke. "Tom, gimme the strongest thing you've got! You know, to take the pain away."

Tom obediently filled a glass and handed it to Christian, who drowned it all in one swallow and then shuddered visibly.

"Oh!" he croaked. "That was certainly strong!"

"Kid, that was water," Tom informed him dryly.

"Well, I need something stronger!" Christian declared dramatically. "Let's go with...water....with lemon?"

"Oooh," the Duke droned sarcastically.

"Oh," Christian wrinkled his nose in disgust. "It's...you."

"Indeed."

"Life is tough, huh?" Christian sighed. "When I signed on, I never bargained for this."

"Amen to that," the Duke said, raising his glass weakly.

"What have you got to worry about?" Christian asked dubiously. "You've got the money and the girl!"

"Kid," the Duke said dryly, "Have you ever heard me sing?"

"Yes," Christian said at once, growing very nervous. "And please don't subject me to such torture again."

"Precisely," the Duke moaned. "I just want to be handsome! Debonair! Suave! Smooooooth. You see, kid, you've got all the luck. You're handsome. Of course she'll fall in love with you."

"What!?!?" Christian asked defensively. "Satine loves me for me! Not what I look like! She would love me even if I were the ugliest man in the world! Even if I looked like...you!"

The Duke snorted.

"What?! You think she wouldn't?!" Christian demanded.

The Duke shook his head. "You're naive. You have no idea what you're talking about. Women only like you if they look like you."

"Well, I bet you that if we changed appearances, Satine would still fall in love with me!" Christian said defiantly.

"Would you be willing to put money on that?" the Duke asked, interested.

"I can't," Christian reminded him, rolling his eyes. "Hello. Penniless poet here. Duh."

"Oh yeah," the Duke said dejectedly. "Right."

They were quiet for a moment when the Green Fairy suggested, "I know a way where you could find the answer!"

"Really?" the Duke and Christian asked simultaneously.

"Really!" the fairy said, nodding. "It just so happens that when in the presence of magic people-" she gestured toward Tom, "-I can do a little magic of my own."

"You mean you can switch us?!" the Duke asked excitedly, eyeing Christian. The prospect that that could be him was too good to be true!

"Of course!"

"Okay!" Christian said. "I've got it. We can go back to the beginning of the movie, with me looking like you and you looking like me, and we'll see who Satine falls for."

"You're going down, writer!" the Duke spat.

"As if!" Christian shot back. Turning to the Green Fairy, he announced, "But I get my voice."

"WHAT?!?!" the Duke exploded.

"Hey," Christian said defensively. "I'm stuck with being you. I deserve one positive attribute here."

"Fine," the Duke pouted, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Ready?" the Green Fairy asked.

The Duke and Christian nodded, and the Green Fairy giggled before flying in a circle around them, uttering the magic words.

"Bibbity bobbity boo!"

Yes, I admit it, blatantly ripped off from Cinderella. Don't sue me.

And with those three aforementioned blatantly ripped off words, everyone's favorite story began again...

With quite a...different twist.