Disclaimer: Based on the motion production of Moulin Rouge. This fanfic has many direct quotes [song lyrics] from the movie, and each is property
of Twentieth Century Fox.
Prologue
There was a boy
A very strange, enchanted boy
They say he traveled very far, very far
Over land and sea
A little shy, and sad of eye,
but very wise was he
And then one day, a magic day he passed my way
And while we spoke of many things; fools and kings,
This he said to me:
The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love
and be loved in return.
InuYasha stared at the forwarded message displayed on his laptop.
"Feh. What kind of a sap would write this? Love. Yeah, right. Nobody believes in that crap."
His index finger hovered above the keyboard, poised to strike Delete, when all of a sudden he heard the digital notes of "Shake Your Booty" coming from his pants.
"What the hell? Oh, Miroku's been playing with my ring tone again," he muttered as he pulled the phone out of his pocket. "Yeah? Whattaya want?"
"Oh, man, you have got to come over here! This place is great."
"No, thank you," he said in disgust as he stared at the illuminated building across the street from his apartment window. The Moulin Rouge. An exact replica of the original in Paris, and built for the same reason: to satisfy the red-blooded male. It glowed crimson against the midnight abyss; a formidable burlesque theater.
According to urban legend it was a kingdom of nighttime pleasures, where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. InuYasha simply described it as a waste of valuable time.
"Whore houses don't interest me, Miroku."
"How could you call it that? With my taste, I would never sink that low!"
"Right," InuYasha said, rolling his eyes.
"Okay, so I admit it. I, er, follow my instincts. But this place is different, InuYasha. It's not some mindless strip club. Just think of it as a... promiscuous dinner dance."
"Well, I can see why you'd like it. And I'm glad you've found your calling. Really, I am. But my story isn't finished, and I've gotta make the deadline this time."
"Party pooper."
"I try."
"At least come tomorrow night."
"No."
"Please, just this once?"
"You don't take rejection well, do you?"
"I'll pay you double your salary rate for every minute you aren't enjoying yourself."
"Okay. It's a bet, sucker. Are you that sure I won't hate it?"
"Oh, you'll like it. Be at my place around seven. I've got a couple of friends I'd like you to meet. Later."
InuYasha grunted in reply and snapped his phone shut, resting his chin in his hands. The inexperienced writer feared he didn't know what he was getting himself into.
of Twentieth Century Fox.
Prologue
There was a boy
A very strange, enchanted boy
They say he traveled very far, very far
Over land and sea
A little shy, and sad of eye,
but very wise was he
And then one day, a magic day he passed my way
And while we spoke of many things; fools and kings,
This he said to me:
The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love
and be loved in return.
InuYasha stared at the forwarded message displayed on his laptop.
"Feh. What kind of a sap would write this? Love. Yeah, right. Nobody believes in that crap."
His index finger hovered above the keyboard, poised to strike Delete, when all of a sudden he heard the digital notes of "Shake Your Booty" coming from his pants.
"What the hell? Oh, Miroku's been playing with my ring tone again," he muttered as he pulled the phone out of his pocket. "Yeah? Whattaya want?"
"Oh, man, you have got to come over here! This place is great."
"No, thank you," he said in disgust as he stared at the illuminated building across the street from his apartment window. The Moulin Rouge. An exact replica of the original in Paris, and built for the same reason: to satisfy the red-blooded male. It glowed crimson against the midnight abyss; a formidable burlesque theater.
According to urban legend it was a kingdom of nighttime pleasures, where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. InuYasha simply described it as a waste of valuable time.
"Whore houses don't interest me, Miroku."
"How could you call it that? With my taste, I would never sink that low!"
"Right," InuYasha said, rolling his eyes.
"Okay, so I admit it. I, er, follow my instincts. But this place is different, InuYasha. It's not some mindless strip club. Just think of it as a... promiscuous dinner dance."
"Well, I can see why you'd like it. And I'm glad you've found your calling. Really, I am. But my story isn't finished, and I've gotta make the deadline this time."
"Party pooper."
"I try."
"At least come tomorrow night."
"No."
"Please, just this once?"
"You don't take rejection well, do you?"
"I'll pay you double your salary rate for every minute you aren't enjoying yourself."
"Okay. It's a bet, sucker. Are you that sure I won't hate it?"
"Oh, you'll like it. Be at my place around seven. I've got a couple of friends I'd like you to meet. Later."
InuYasha grunted in reply and snapped his phone shut, resting his chin in his hands. The inexperienced writer feared he didn't know what he was getting himself into.