Author: DJRocky99
Description: I'm a sarcastic, cynical, occasionally humorous person who enjoys making fun of other things. The Moulin Rouge is good, but not good enough to escape my wrath...
Disclaimer: Well, what can I say; Baz owns everything, still. My apologies to Ewan McGregor, Nicole Kidman, John Leguizamo, and every other character!
Chapter Two-The Talented Mr. Christian
Rewind---When we last left off, Christian had just learned of "Horrific Horrific," a play set in Switzerland, for whatever reason.
~=~=~=~=~=~
(Toulouse): It's a play called "Horrific Horrific"! Unfortunately, it is time for a lunch break, and we have yet to complete writing the play, which must be presented to the financiers at 1 o'clock, and our lead role played by the Narcoleptic, has just tangoed out of here with Audrey the cross dresser with purple hair.
(Djrocky99): Toulouse dropped to his knees and took in an extremely deep breath, from lack of air during his run-on sentence.
(Christian): I don't like your tone of voice, you midget! You don't honestly think I'm going to the play the part of a young sensitive Swiss poet named Goatherd do you?
(Toulouse): Well, yes I do. And if you don't rehearse with me, I'll track down the Narcoleptic and have him tell you just HOW talented you are.
(Djrocky99): At that, Toulouse shot an ungainly and unmanly glance at Christian, who turned immediately, so his...um, talent, was no longer noticeable. When Christian next spoke, his voice was unusually high:
(Christian): Well, shall we stay here at my place or go back to your place?
(Djrocky99): Christian immediately regretted saying this, for Toulouse's eyes lit up. Christian attempted to fix his error, but Toulouse cut him off.
(Toulouse): Oh, you're a fine specimen of manhood, anywhere is fine with me.
(Christian): I meant to rehearse, you pervert!
(Toulouse): Oh, yes, right, I knew that. Let's go back upstairs, I suppose.
(Djrocky99): Christian trembled with nervousness at the thought of being alone in a room with a midget dressed as a nun. He thought to himself:
(Christian to self): Damn it! Dr. Wisenheimer assured me this would never happen!
(Djrocky99): But happened it had. When they finally arrived upstairs in Toulouse's garret, Christian was pleased to see that there were people up there already. Many people, in fact: Audrey, the Narcoleptic, Sadie (a musician), and the Doctor (a bum). This brought great relief to poor Christian, who was still dazed and confused from watching a midget fall through his roof...that is, until the thought dawned on him that maybe they were ALL going to tell him about his talent.
In an attempt to take everyone's mind off of his talent, including his own mind, he decided about now would be a great time to burst out into song.
(Christian, at the top of his lungs): The hilllllllllsssss are aliveeeeeeeee with the sound of muuuuuuuusic!
(Djrocky99): All of the Bohemians stopped, covered their ears, and stared up at him. He grinned that dorky boyish grin of his and decided to show off some more, not getting the point.
(Christian, off key, at the top of his lungs): With songs they've sung for a thousand yearrrrs!
(Djrocky99): He, again, grinned that geeky grin at them.
(Christian): So, what do you think? Not bad for a Scotsman huh?
(Bohemians, in unison): We thought you were from London!
(Djrocky99): Christian replied sheepishly:
(Christian): Yes, of course I'm from London. Just making sure you guys were paying attention, is all.
(Djrocky99): Now all this time Audrey had been sitting in a corner with a curling iron, trying to do something, ANYTHING, with his hair.
(Audrey): Oi vey, this is ridiculous! I need a drink!
(Djrocky99): He/she threw the curling iron aside, right on the Narcoleptic, who had just fallen asleep. It sat there...and sat there...eventually burning a hole in his pants. He didn't seem to notice, however. Then Toulouse got his next bright idea.
(Toulouse): Hey, I have a bright idea! Christian, you and Audrey should write the show together.
(Djrocky99): Christian gave Audrey a funny look, and asked him if he really was the writer of the show.
(Audrey): Yes, of course I am, can't you tell?
(Christian, under his breath): No
(Audrey): What was that?
(Djrocky99): Christian, who was terrified of this grown man who pranced around looking like a woman, denied saying anything at all.
(Audrey): Hey, we're out of absinthe. I'm going to run down to the "5 and dime" and pick one up.
(Djrocky99): Audrey stormed out, slamming the door behind him...her.
(Christian): Hey! This 1899, in France! There are no "5 and Dime"'s around here!
(Audrey, muffled from behind the door): Oooops.
(Djrocky99): At this, Christian smacked his hand to his forehead.
(Toulouse): Sigh...we do have absinthe! But I'm glad we got rid of that freak.
(Djrocky99): Christian thought to himself:
(Christian): Hello, this is Toulouse. Hi...kettle? Yeah. You're black.
(Toulouse): Well, with Audrey gone, looks like you're our writer now, hot shot.
(Sadie): But how will we convince Zidler? You know how much he was looking forward to working with Audrey the cross dresser, don't you? (Djrocky99): But Toulouse had yet ANOTHER bright idea. This guy is on a roll, I tell ya. There simply is no stopping Toulouse. Hehehehe.
(Toulouse): I've got it! We'll dress Christian up as a woman, transforming him into a cross dresser, and Zidler will be sure to love him! Literally!
(Christian): Oh well that's just dandy. First a midget man dressed as a nun falls through my ceiling. Then, my door is broken down and tango-ed upon by a Narcoleptic Argentinean and a cross dresser named Audrey. And now you're telling me that you're going to dress me as a woman and send me to meet a man who likes that sort of thing?!
(Djrocky99): All of the Bohemians looked at each other and then turned back to Christian.
(Bohemians, again in unison): Yeah, basically.
(Djrocky99): For the 2nd time that morning, Christian stared blankly at Toulouse.
(Christian): Well, if that's the case, I can't do it. I cannot write the play for the Moulin Rouge or Harry Zidler and I most certainly cannot dress up like a woman. Hell, I'm not even sure I'm a Revolutionary after all.
(Djrocky99): Each Bohemian's jaw hit the floor.
(Bohemians, in unison, as always): What do you mean not a Revolutionary? Do you believe in freedom, beauty, truth, and of course, love?
(Christian): Yes, yes, yes, and duh! Love is like...helium! Both love and helium do strange things to your voice! Love is a many splintered thing...once it's under your skin, it's difficult to get out!
(Toulouse): See, you can't fool us too much! You're the voice of the children of the Revolution!
(Christian): Yeah, right, ok, so...what is this absinthe stuff anyways?
(Djrocky99): Toulouse pulled out a large glass bottle full of green after- shave looking stuff.
(Toulouse): Christian, after your first sip, you'll never eat, drink, dream, or think about anything other than Absinthe ever again!
(Djrocky99): Christian found this very appealing, considering the events of the morning thus far. A small voice in the back of his head told him it was too early to be drinking. But then his conscience took over and told the voice to shut the heck up!
Toulouse pulled out shot glasses for each Bohemian. He even poured one for the snoozing Argentinean...and threw it in his face.
That woke him up.
(Christian): I'll take two please!
~=~=~=~=~=~
A/N-Sorry it was so long. I didn't honestly expect it to be soooo long. My apologies, again, to the entire cast and crew; but it is the price that must be paid for our entertainment! Chapter Three, coming soon.
Description: I'm a sarcastic, cynical, occasionally humorous person who enjoys making fun of other things. The Moulin Rouge is good, but not good enough to escape my wrath...
Disclaimer: Well, what can I say; Baz owns everything, still. My apologies to Ewan McGregor, Nicole Kidman, John Leguizamo, and every other character!
Chapter Two-The Talented Mr. Christian
Rewind---When we last left off, Christian had just learned of "Horrific Horrific," a play set in Switzerland, for whatever reason.
~=~=~=~=~=~
(Toulouse): It's a play called "Horrific Horrific"! Unfortunately, it is time for a lunch break, and we have yet to complete writing the play, which must be presented to the financiers at 1 o'clock, and our lead role played by the Narcoleptic, has just tangoed out of here with Audrey the cross dresser with purple hair.
(Djrocky99): Toulouse dropped to his knees and took in an extremely deep breath, from lack of air during his run-on sentence.
(Christian): I don't like your tone of voice, you midget! You don't honestly think I'm going to the play the part of a young sensitive Swiss poet named Goatherd do you?
(Toulouse): Well, yes I do. And if you don't rehearse with me, I'll track down the Narcoleptic and have him tell you just HOW talented you are.
(Djrocky99): At that, Toulouse shot an ungainly and unmanly glance at Christian, who turned immediately, so his...um, talent, was no longer noticeable. When Christian next spoke, his voice was unusually high:
(Christian): Well, shall we stay here at my place or go back to your place?
(Djrocky99): Christian immediately regretted saying this, for Toulouse's eyes lit up. Christian attempted to fix his error, but Toulouse cut him off.
(Toulouse): Oh, you're a fine specimen of manhood, anywhere is fine with me.
(Christian): I meant to rehearse, you pervert!
(Toulouse): Oh, yes, right, I knew that. Let's go back upstairs, I suppose.
(Djrocky99): Christian trembled with nervousness at the thought of being alone in a room with a midget dressed as a nun. He thought to himself:
(Christian to self): Damn it! Dr. Wisenheimer assured me this would never happen!
(Djrocky99): But happened it had. When they finally arrived upstairs in Toulouse's garret, Christian was pleased to see that there were people up there already. Many people, in fact: Audrey, the Narcoleptic, Sadie (a musician), and the Doctor (a bum). This brought great relief to poor Christian, who was still dazed and confused from watching a midget fall through his roof...that is, until the thought dawned on him that maybe they were ALL going to tell him about his talent.
In an attempt to take everyone's mind off of his talent, including his own mind, he decided about now would be a great time to burst out into song.
(Christian, at the top of his lungs): The hilllllllllsssss are aliveeeeeeeee with the sound of muuuuuuuusic!
(Djrocky99): All of the Bohemians stopped, covered their ears, and stared up at him. He grinned that dorky boyish grin of his and decided to show off some more, not getting the point.
(Christian, off key, at the top of his lungs): With songs they've sung for a thousand yearrrrs!
(Djrocky99): He, again, grinned that geeky grin at them.
(Christian): So, what do you think? Not bad for a Scotsman huh?
(Bohemians, in unison): We thought you were from London!
(Djrocky99): Christian replied sheepishly:
(Christian): Yes, of course I'm from London. Just making sure you guys were paying attention, is all.
(Djrocky99): Now all this time Audrey had been sitting in a corner with a curling iron, trying to do something, ANYTHING, with his hair.
(Audrey): Oi vey, this is ridiculous! I need a drink!
(Djrocky99): He/she threw the curling iron aside, right on the Narcoleptic, who had just fallen asleep. It sat there...and sat there...eventually burning a hole in his pants. He didn't seem to notice, however. Then Toulouse got his next bright idea.
(Toulouse): Hey, I have a bright idea! Christian, you and Audrey should write the show together.
(Djrocky99): Christian gave Audrey a funny look, and asked him if he really was the writer of the show.
(Audrey): Yes, of course I am, can't you tell?
(Christian, under his breath): No
(Audrey): What was that?
(Djrocky99): Christian, who was terrified of this grown man who pranced around looking like a woman, denied saying anything at all.
(Audrey): Hey, we're out of absinthe. I'm going to run down to the "5 and dime" and pick one up.
(Djrocky99): Audrey stormed out, slamming the door behind him...her.
(Christian): Hey! This 1899, in France! There are no "5 and Dime"'s around here!
(Audrey, muffled from behind the door): Oooops.
(Djrocky99): At this, Christian smacked his hand to his forehead.
(Toulouse): Sigh...we do have absinthe! But I'm glad we got rid of that freak.
(Djrocky99): Christian thought to himself:
(Christian): Hello, this is Toulouse. Hi...kettle? Yeah. You're black.
(Toulouse): Well, with Audrey gone, looks like you're our writer now, hot shot.
(Sadie): But how will we convince Zidler? You know how much he was looking forward to working with Audrey the cross dresser, don't you? (Djrocky99): But Toulouse had yet ANOTHER bright idea. This guy is on a roll, I tell ya. There simply is no stopping Toulouse. Hehehehe.
(Toulouse): I've got it! We'll dress Christian up as a woman, transforming him into a cross dresser, and Zidler will be sure to love him! Literally!
(Christian): Oh well that's just dandy. First a midget man dressed as a nun falls through my ceiling. Then, my door is broken down and tango-ed upon by a Narcoleptic Argentinean and a cross dresser named Audrey. And now you're telling me that you're going to dress me as a woman and send me to meet a man who likes that sort of thing?!
(Djrocky99): All of the Bohemians looked at each other and then turned back to Christian.
(Bohemians, again in unison): Yeah, basically.
(Djrocky99): For the 2nd time that morning, Christian stared blankly at Toulouse.
(Christian): Well, if that's the case, I can't do it. I cannot write the play for the Moulin Rouge or Harry Zidler and I most certainly cannot dress up like a woman. Hell, I'm not even sure I'm a Revolutionary after all.
(Djrocky99): Each Bohemian's jaw hit the floor.
(Bohemians, in unison, as always): What do you mean not a Revolutionary? Do you believe in freedom, beauty, truth, and of course, love?
(Christian): Yes, yes, yes, and duh! Love is like...helium! Both love and helium do strange things to your voice! Love is a many splintered thing...once it's under your skin, it's difficult to get out!
(Toulouse): See, you can't fool us too much! You're the voice of the children of the Revolution!
(Christian): Yeah, right, ok, so...what is this absinthe stuff anyways?
(Djrocky99): Toulouse pulled out a large glass bottle full of green after- shave looking stuff.
(Toulouse): Christian, after your first sip, you'll never eat, drink, dream, or think about anything other than Absinthe ever again!
(Djrocky99): Christian found this very appealing, considering the events of the morning thus far. A small voice in the back of his head told him it was too early to be drinking. But then his conscience took over and told the voice to shut the heck up!
Toulouse pulled out shot glasses for each Bohemian. He even poured one for the snoozing Argentinean...and threw it in his face.
That woke him up.
(Christian): I'll take two please!
~=~=~=~=~=~
A/N-Sorry it was so long. I didn't honestly expect it to be soooo long. My apologies, again, to the entire cast and crew; but it is the price that must be paid for our entertainment! Chapter Three, coming soon.