Pitching the Mouse

By Kryss LaBryn

A/N: When I first heard the title of the sequel (based on Forsythe's unfortunate 'Phantom of Manhattan') that Andrew Lloyd-Webber was composing to Phantom, I swear, the very first thing that went through my mind was, "That sounds like a Disney musical." This short fic is the direct result.

I promise I'll return to writing actual Phantomy stories soon (I've got one in the works I'm picking away at, and, yes, I really am still expanding 'Through A Mirror, Darkly', I swear! Just been really busy with RL, I'm afraid). In the meantime, here's another phiclet. Enjoy!

Incidentally, if you're curious as to what a Disney version of the stage musical might look like, if it were done well, check out Raphael's art over at DeviantArt, at http: / / raphael2054. deviantart. com (minus spaces, of course).

George poked his head around the office door, and entered at Ed's wave. "Thanks for seeing me, Ed," he said, seating himself before the expansive desk.

"No problem, George."

"I think you're really gonna like this."

Ed leaned back and folded his hands across his stomach. "Go ahead."

George's hands mimed a title spread out before him. "Phantom… of the Opera."

"You're killing me, George."

"No, no—it's great. It's begging for the Disney treatment!"

"Lloyd-Webber has all the rights."

"No, no; it's okay. I've got an in. We bring him something he likes, he'll give us permission."

"What'll it cost us?"

"Just a percentage."

"How much?"

George named a figure. Ed blinked. "You don't think that's a bit high?"

"There's a lot of potential here, Ed," George reassured him.

Ed rolled his eyes. "The kids don't want to see 'Phantom of the Opera'. Opera, George? Okay, so Phantom, cool, but opera? Come on."

"Well, so we just rebrand it. Something more in keeping with the Disney legacy. Something like… like 'Phantom: Once Upon Another Time'." Again, George's hands spread the words across the screen of his mind's eye.

"Mmm. Not bad." Ed made a note. "Not bad at all. What's the plot?"

"Okay, so we got this guy, the Phantom, he's all like ugly and gross—"

"We don't do gross. Or ugly."

"No, no; like Quasimodo ugly. Ugly in sort of a cute way. Like he can be really skinny, and have great big ears and this big nose, you know, like no chin—"

"That's Ichabod Crane."

"Well, whatever. You know what I mean. Cute ugly."

Ed sighed. "Okay, fine. Cute ugly. Go on."

"Right. So he falls in love with this girl, Christine, and kidnaps her and takes her down to his lair—"

"Does a handsome French guy try to save her?"

"Yeah! You know it?"

Ed rubbed the bridge of his nose. "George, that's 'Beauty and the Beast'."

"No, no; it's—oh. Right. Well, no, that's okay; we just gotta tweak things a bit. Like, what if he's sort of cute-ugly, right, but he's got this amazing voice? Like just amazing. We could get Peabo Bryson to sing, maybe. So anyways, Christine hears him singing and falls in love with his voice, but he thinks she won't like him because of his looks. See, we can work a moral in there, about body image and accepting yourself for who you are and stuff—right. Anyways, he goes to this old wise woman, you know, like a witch, and she gives him this potion that makes him handsome, but the price is his voice—Hey, maybe she can be a sorcerer—he can fall in love with Christine too, and use the Phantom's voice to try to trick her into marrying him…"

"That's 'The Little Mermaid', George."

George was silent for a moment. "Fuck," he said finally.

"Look, George, it's okay; we've got that Frog Prince thing in the works—"

"No, wait! I've got it! Okay, so it can be like sort of a sequel to Lloyd-Webber's movie. Like, okay, Christine's already married the French guy—"

"Gaston?" asked Ed dryly.

"No, something… something slightly fruitier."

"Good lord, why?"

"It worked for Jack Sparrow."

"Point taken. Plus I suppose we're being culturally sensitive."

"Yeah. How about Raoul?"

"Raoul? Sure. My wife's hairdresser is Raoul. That works."

"Good." George shifted forward in his seat as he got into the swing of things. "Okay, so she's married Raoul, who saved her, but she's never quite forgotten the Phantom. She can have a really sad song about it. And he goes off to America—"

"Why?"

"To forget her, start over… You know. And he can get a job at a carnival, selling postcards or something…"

"Why? I thought he was all ugly? Wouldn't he hate crowds?"

"Yeah, but… But he spent his childhood in a carnival. It's like home to him."

"Wait—I think I remember that bit. Didn't he run away? Why would he run away if it was home?"

"Well—well, um, he felt he belonged there. You know, with the other freaks: the Bearded Lady, Jojo the Dog-faced Boy, with them he's just another guy. We can have a flashback. He can sing a song—how about 'Freaks Like Me'?"

"No. Can't say 'freaks'. You should know that."

"Okay then, 'Folks Like Me'. How's that? But the new owners are mean to him so he runs away."

"Good. What then?"

"Well, okay, he gets a job at the carnival selling postcards or something, and makes a ton of money building funhouses—"

"Wait. What?"

"What what?"

"How does he go from selling postcards to making funhouses?"

"Oh. Well, there's an old, ramshackle funhouse that the owner was going to tear down, but the Phantom's been saving up his money—"

"Fiscal responsibility."

"Yes! Excellent! And he makes a deal that if he redoes it, he gets to keep a percentage of the profits. And it's brilliant, and it does really well—"

"Okay. So what about Christine?"

"Well, she's a singer, right? So the Phantom makes enough money building funhouses that he teams up with like Roger Hammerstein or someone to build a theatre, and she's invited to perform in the gala opening."

"And so, what?" asked Ed. "She sees him, realizes that she still loves him, and gets a divorce?"

"No, an annulment—Raoul's gay, plus perhaps he took a bullet somewhere unfortunate and can't perform—"

"Did they have bullets back then?"

"Sword wound. Whatever."

"Well, we can't really allude to anything… unfortunate. How about he's a drunk or something? We do need a villain…"

"That works," said George. "Anyways, Christine runs into him, the Phantom, at the carnival, but she doesn't recognize him right away, because he's dressed up as a clown—"

"What? Why?"

"Well, so he can wander about without being stared at, of course."

"Now you're being ridiculous."

"No, no—it's great. It's golden. Trust me."

"A clown? What little girl's gonna fall in love with a clown? Clowns are scary."

"Not this one," said George stubbornly. "This one's nice."

"Whatever. Look, George, I appreciate the thought, but I just don't think this'll work."

"Why not?"

"It's just—the premise is all wrong for us. Where's the cute talking animals?"

"Did I mention his pet rat, Blue?" cut in George.

"No, no rats. Besides, there's been too many animated rats recently. Plus it's only one step away from a pet mouse called Mickey. No."

"But what if we—"

"No, George. I'm sorry. I love the title, but the rest of it… I just don't think it'll fly."

George deflated. "Ah. Well. Thanks for listening, anyways."

"No problem, George. You've been with us a long time. It's the least I could do."

"You don't, uh… You don't mind if I take my ideas back to Lloyd-Webber?"

"Have a party."

"Right." George slowly stood. "Thanks, Ed."

"No problem, George. Good luck with it."

Ed waited until George had shuffled out and quietly closed the door behind him before sighing and crumpling his notes. "'Phantom: Once Upon Another Time'. Yeah. Right."

finis