Disclaimer: Owned by their respectful owners (Leroux, Kay, and Webber)
AKA, "Three Phantom Story-lines Crammed All-Together"
Gaston Leroux: The Opera Ghost was real; yep. . . . isn't that cool?
Ballet Girls: Oh, no! The Phantom! (BALLET GIRLS scream.)
Jammes: Right. Superstitious twits. Shoo.
(In CHRISTINE'S dressing room) (Please get your mind out of the gutter. Thank you.)
Erik: Hello there. I am the Angel of Music! (But what she doesn't know is that I am, indeed, an half-crazed genius hiding beneath the Paris Opera House with a hideous visage.)
Christine: I am Christine Daaé - recently orphaned ingenue. While my spirit has been shattered by the death of my dear father, my hope that my Angel of Music would come was not. But you, mysterious voice in my head, are most certainly emitting from behind that mirror.
Erik: Umm. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Christine: Nonetheless, since I am an oblivious soubrette, and for the sake of the plot, I shall still foolishly believe you to be a divine entity.
Erik: 'Kay. ^-^
(A/N: Yes, I know I put a text smilie there. Please be so kind as to and deal with it.)
(After CHRISTINE'S triumph as Marguerite.)
Raoul: Christine, I love you! For I am the Vicomte de Chagny - the spoiled younger brother of Comte Philippe de Chagny, and I do always get my way. Also, there was some sort of fiasco between us dealing with a scarf. But anyways, yes, I love you!
Christine: How nice. Now go away.
(A dejected RAOUL leaves.)
Erik: Pfft. . . stupid fop. Hey there, Christine. You sang well tonight. Very nice. Bravo.
Christine: Thank you, my Angel. Let's go do some stuff.
Erik: Umm. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 'kay. ^-^
(ERIK opens the mirror-door and whisks CHRISTINE away)
Rampant Phantom-Phan: Noooo!!! Erik! Take me instead!. . .
(The PHANTOM-PHAN is soon hauled away by INVISIBLE SECURITY GUARDS.)
Erik: Haha, you can't do that, you dandy! In your boyishly handsome face!
(RAOUL is jealous, but he just SITS THERE and LOOKS PRETTY.)
(Under the Opera House, at ERIK's home on the lake.)
Christine: (Being an extremely foolish person all together, she yanks-off ERIK's mask; many cries of outrage are heard from the CRAZED PHAN-GIRLS.) Eww, gross. You look like Death, or something along those lines. It really depends on the translation of the book. . .
Erik: Hey! Don't do that! (is royally PISSED-OFF.)
Christine: It's not that bad. . .
Erik: It isn't? Really?. . .
Christine: No, really it's. . . . well, actually, yes. It is that bad. . . . .
Erik: Oh. Damn. (ERIK is still royally PISSED; yells incoherently and chases Christine around in a blind rage before crawling dejetedly into his bed chambers.)
(Some STUFF happens, in which a FAT SOPRANO is turned into a TOAD and a PRETTY CHANDELIER crashes on a CONCIERGE. But don't feel bad; it LOOKED really cool.)
(On the ROOP-TOP of the Opera House, beneath APOLLO'S LYRE.)
Christine: I've seen him, Raoul. Erik is yucky to the second power. And though I pity him, I dislike him immensely because his looks - which he cannot control - do not appeal to me. (She goes on to talk about DEATH, and stuff, but we DON'T CARE.) In short, Erik is one scary mo-fo.
Raoul: Other than the fact that you referenced a mathematical term that women in this time period wouldn't know, and despite the fact that you have made use of a 21st Century slang term, I agree whole-heartedly. Let's go somewhere and do some stuff.
Christine: 'Kay. (She KISSES RAOUL, and CRAZED PHAN-GIRLS throw chandeliers.)
(At ERIK'S home, once again, with the Persian and Raoul in the torture chamber.)
Erik: Because you have betrayed me, I have kidnapped you, Christine; and using my highly advanced mind, have tricked the Persian into leading himself and Super-Fop into my torture chamber. I am very sad, and I am extremely peeved with you.
Christine: I'm having a bad day today, aren't I? (She cries, because she CRIES a LOT during this part.)
Erik: Indeed. So now I shall give you the choice between two finely-made bronze insects - a scorpion and a grasshopper. Scorpion means that you marry me and shall live the rest of your days here. Grasshopper means you kill us all. Big 'boom', and stuff.
Christine: Wow.
Erik: Yes, by all means, 'wow.' *No point in fighting - for either way you choose you cannot win! So do you end your days with me, or do you send us to our grave?! - *
Christine: Wait - isn't that from the musical? I thought we were following the book?
Erik: Oh, right. My bad - sorry. But it seems, apparently, that the authoress had a lapse in memory when writing this, anyway, so she is now trying to cover it up by saying she is mixing together the story lines. (ERIK glares cryptically at a dark corner in the room, and there is soft, innocent whistling issuing from no where; CHRISTINE concludes that this voice must be also coming from behind a mirror, though there are none in sight.) Yep. . . still - which do you choose - the scorpion or the grasshopper? Neither? Well, then, I shall choose the grasshopper for you! (ERIK starts to turn the GRASSHOPPER.)
Christine: (Turns the SCORPION.)
Erik: Hmm. Didn't think that was gonna happen. (ERIK becomes CONFUSED.)
Christine: (Kisses ERIK; Phan-girls cry-out in rage and sigh in adoration by turns.)
Random Erik-Phanatic: NOOOoooOOOoo. . .! (She, too, is soon hauled-away by the now SCARY and MYSTERIOUS INVISIBLE SECURITY GUARDS.)
Erik: Right. Let's ignore that. . . (cough) . . . Well, that was a shocker. I shall let you leave with your fop. (ERIK releases THEM.) You, my dear Christine, have shown me affection and thusly you have fulfilled my quest for love. Therefore, I shall allow you to marry Super Dandy, and to leave my labyrinthine home. My supreme act of sacrifice, despite the original intent of the story, will win over the hearts of thousands of teenage girls; and force them into the delusion that they are in love with Poor Erik. Love ya lots, Christine.
Newspaper: "Erik is DEAD."
Gaston Leroux: Yep. He was definitely real. Mm-hmm.
The End.