Disclaimer: I do not own POTO
My story begins, I suppose, when the Vicomte de Chagny came to town, or rather, the opera. I was just minding my own business, hopping to and fro like total ninny, scowling as Madame Mommy Giry screeched at me for shimming my golden nipples in the wrong direction, when that dude comes swaggering in.
His hair looks better than mine! I thought angrily to myself, watching with envy the hair that swayed side to side as if it had a life of its own. Or perhaps he did that on propose.
"Attention everyone," mister manager said, "I would like to confirm that the rumors about my retirement are true and here they are Messieurs…"
I didn't catch anymore of what the mister manager, that's what I called him as I never figured out what his name was. Whenever I saw him, I would say to him, "mister manager, mister, what is your name?"
He would tell me but I just couldn't pay attention when he was speaking! You see, he smelled of cabbage and goats, and that got me thinking about how exactly one could smell of cabbage and goats when the person in question lived in Paris and not to mention, spent all of his time as manager at the opera. Did he really live in the country and couldn't help it? Did he come to work on a goat, eating cabbage as a healthy snack? Was this a new line of exclusive, la-de-da cologne, worn only by the rich and famous and the managers of the opera?
In any case, after about the 20th time, me asking the question, him telling me, my senses being overpowered by the stench of cabbages and goats, he refused to even speak to me, huffing loudly and scampering, yes I said scampering, in the opposite direction.
Oh well, I don't really care that much, mister manager.
FINE!
So, wait…where was I? Oh yeah, the new managers. I wasn't paying attention as mister manager announced the new messieurs managers' names, so I guess I'll call them that from now on.
After that, the hair man was introduced as our new patron. I paid attention to who he was, oh yes, because I had to know who had better hair than me! He was the Vicomte de Chagny as I mentioned previously. My glittery, makeup covered eyes narrowed into slits, glaring at him as he said, "Oh yeah, I'm like so totally happy to be the new patron," and then Carlotta was a meh meh and Piangi coughed, offended, and was meh meh and then turned around and winked at me! Piangi winked at me!
This is why I hate being in the ballet! Men, for some odd reason, believe I am a girl and wink at me! I am not one of those dumb, gold digging ballet rats, I am a male dancer! With gold nipples!
I remember looking down at my nipples and admiring them as Carbitcha, oh I'm sorry, Carlotta said something like, "'he lahve me. Lahve me, lahve me, lahve me,"' HA! Please, Carlotta is NOT Italian or whatever foolishness she claims to be. She is from West Virginia! Her father was a shoemaker and her mother was David Hasslehoff. Yes, you heard me correctly.
Anyway, I digress from the subject. The ballet rats, the other male dancers that also wink at me, and I were taking a short impromptu break as the new messieurs managers and the sumbitch Vicomte were introduced, leaving us to chatter or giggle or walk around aimlessly in circles. Instead of these marvelous pastimes, I was drawn in by the glimmer of my glorious nipples and stood in the middle of the stage admiring them.
I think I'll keep them, I thought, slowly being hypnotized by the gleam shinning off them.
Suddenly, I was brought forcefully back to reality as hoe bag Victwa whacked me in the head with her slave chains.
"'FRANKISH!"' Madame Mommy Giry screamed, "PIANGI!"'
Since Frankish is my name and I was kind of in the middle of the ballet rats "sultry" dance, I ran as fast as my beautifully chiseled legs could carry me over to Piangi, who I was supposed to help climb the elephant since he is a fat ass.
The drunks, who oddly enough, no one knew exactly who they were or why they always hung around backstage, were currently sitting in the back of the elephant, living up to their namesakes. I reached Piangi and the cheap ass elephant just in time, thanks to my beautifully chiseled and bent down to give him a leg up. Unfortunately, Madame Mommy Giry staged it so I bent to the back of the elephant, my hinny in full view of the drunks, so as I did what I was supposed to, the drunks pinched my previously mentioned hinny!
Well, like any lad who has had his ass pinched by another fellow, I was a little freaked out! Without remembering that I was still barely supporting Piangi's lard, I jerked up, my hands splayed in front of me, sending Piangi to loose his grip on the elephant and tumble down. He was ok, because he landed on me!
I screamed loudly, quite like a moose, and gave a muffled yell at Piangi to, "'Kindly remove your extremely large person from my head, as I didn't exactly have another one and the loss of this fabulous beauty would be a devastating blow to the world."'
Piangi, after a moment or so, using the word "moment" extremely lightly of course, was pulled to his feet by that midget of his, weird little wee person, I still don't know how he managed to pull him up and why if he could pull him up, wasn't the one to give him a leg up on the stupid elephant.
I stood up very slowly, not daring to think about how messed up my hair must have been when I happened to glance over to Piangi who was standing uncomfortably close to me, when he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at me! And the little man too!
Oh, woe is me! I thought dramatically, wondering why on earth I had to be stuck with this job when I wasn't even the strongest. Then I saw it. Madame Mommy Giry and Piangi exchanging very knowing looks in my direction!
Son of a bitch. I thought angrily to myself as Madame Mommy Giry smirked at me.
I knew she hated me!
My angst ridden dwelling was shattered as Carlotta was seemingly smushed into a pancake by a conveniently placed piece of scenery hanging above her head.
This was turning out to be a great day! I thought gleefully, I get pancakes! Yummy!
I clapped my hands and bounced up and down happily, unbeknownst to the morons around me, all twittering fearfully. I suppose they were afraid that there wouldn't be enough Carbitcha pancake to go around.
But before I could even begin to plan the quickest route to my secret stash of Aunt Jemima syrup, which was hidden among Buquet's bottles of Rum, my hopes and dreams were brutally stabbed repeatedly, poisoned, and forced to do the electric slide as Carlotta was not smushed into my much desired pancake, but was screaming. Very loudly.
"'Meh meh meh meh meh!"' she yelled in her wannabe Italian accent. Of course I didn't pay attention to her as I have the attention span of a feisty squirrel and Piangi was still eyeing me beadily.
I did catch the words, "'I'm really leaving!'" and she left, with her little dogs too, mean ol' Mister Manager announcing he was going to Australia or some foolishness like that, no doubt they have goats and cabbage a plenty, and Piangi, finally leaving my side to go up to the messieurs managers and go, "'Amateurs!"' complete with prissy finger snaps, head shaking, and hip swaying as he stalked away, the little man mimicking his every move. Shivers…
Madame Mommy Giry came forward at that moment to deliver a message from the Opera Ghost, which made me even huffier as he hasn't sent me a note in two weeks! Erik, what happened to my Angel of Interpretive Dance?
Looks of extreme distraught ness marred my gorgeously sculpted face as some goody two shoes named Christine Daae was asked to sing Carlotta's aria.
One look at her told me that she would do horribly so I decided to skip the rest of rehearsal, opting instead to get to the sleazy dormitories before the rest of the ballets rats did so I would have a few precious moments alone before they galloped in like antelopes, drinking Buquet's liquor again and invited him in for "story time" until Madame Mommy Giry broke it up.
As I was nearing the dormitories, one of the drunks stepped out of a darkened door way and offered me a drink which had a tablet slowly dissolving in it. As much as I love to accept drinks with suspicious pills floating in them from strange men, I just had to refuse.
I had to get my nipples their shiniest.
Please review! Love and Peace! Kupo!