Author's Note: Okay, I usually wait until I have five reviews before updating, but I finished writing this chapter like, three days ago, and I am getting impatient. If anyone feels like going back and reviewing chapter one, it would be well appreciated. I don't know if I am going to continue on to chapter three, but I'll think about it. It depends on how many reviews I get! Enjoy!

The Phantom's Adventures in the Opera

Being thesecond part of 'The Phantom's Adventures in the Opera'

One day, the phantom was wandering around the opera house, when, on the floor, he saw a cake.

"What is this doing here?" he wondered out loud. He looked around to make sure the owner of the cake was not there, before bending down and tasting it. It was a very good cake, so he decided to keep it.

There was a performance about to start, so he went up to box five to watch. Christine came up on stage, and the phantom noticed something interesting. There was a really cool sparkly hair clip in her hair, and he decided it should be his. There was only one problem – how to get it without being noticed by the audience or Christine?

He looked down at the cake in his lap and got an idea. He quickly scrambled up to the catwalks above the stage. He tied a rope to his ankle and lowered himself down toward Christine's head, cake in hand. He tried desperately to catch the hairclip in the cake, but he couldn't quite reach down far enough.

Suddenly, he got another idea. He pulled himself back up on the catwalk and ran down to his lair, stopping next to Charles. He grabbed his saw and cut off Charles' head again. He walked back to the catwalk, munching on his cake as he did.

When he arrived, he looked all over for the cake so he could stick it on the end of Charles' head. He scratched his chin thoughtfully, but when he pulled his hand away and looked at it, he shrieked. He realized… he had eaten the cake!

Well, he thought, I shall simply have to get a new cake. So he hurried to the kitchen and spotted Madame Giry.

"Ah, good," he said, flipping his cape around for emphasis. "Make me a cake!"

Madame Giry looked at him for a moment. "What do you need a cake for?"

"Does it matter? Now make me a cake!"

"I'm not your slave!"

"I know, but it's so much easier for the both of us if we just pretend you are."

Madame Giry sighed and relented. But revenge is always sweet. As she baked the cake, she slipped a sedative into the frosting.

"There," she said, smiling evilly. "Your cake."

"Thank you," the phantom replied, snatching the cake and running away. As he did, he got some frosting on his hand and licked it off. He went back up to the catwalk and tied the rope to his foot again. He put the cake on the tip of Charles' head and lowered himself down.

Suddenly, he started feeling a bit woozy. He swayed back and forth on his rope, until the cake hit the side of Christine's face, abruptly ending her song. He fell to floor, landing on his back. He stared up and saw Madame Giry on the catwalk with a knife. She had cut his rope, the devil woman!

Christine peeled the cake off of the side of her face and threw it at the phantom. He jumped onto his feet and ran off stage, feeling quite embarrassed for his lack of gracefulness.

He decided the cake idea was not going to get him that hairclip, so he zoomed to his lair and found a bow and arrow. He ran back up and aimed the arrow, which he had set on fire to make it more exciting.

Just as he was about to release the arrow, he burped, putting his aim a little bit off. The arrow flew through the air and hit the hairclip, but it also set Christine's hair on fire. The phantom transported himself down to his lair and got a fire extinguisher, transporting himself quickly back up on stage. He sprayed Christine with it, and she lived. But she was bald. She screamed angrily and beat the phantom with her fists.

The phantom shrieked and turned around, and came face to face with Madame Giry.

"Go to your corner!" she commanded, her voice taking a dark and evil tone.

"What corner?"

"Go to your lair, and sit in your corner!"

"Which one?"

"JUST GO!"

The phantom jumped about three feet in the air before dropping through the floor and hurrying to a corner. He sat there for a few moments before realizing something. Standing up hastily, he dashed up to the auditorium again.

"Madame Giry!" he called.

"What are you doing out of your corner?"

"I was just wondering when I could leave."

"I'll come get you."

"Okay." The phantom ran back to his corner. Suddenly, he realized something else. Madame Giry didn't know how to get to his lair without falling in one of his booby traps! He was then immersed in an intense internal battle - to go help his friend, or to stay in his corner like she had commanded?

The phantom hesitantly stood up and began checking all of his traps to make sure Madame Giry was not in danger. Turning a corner, he saw… Christine! She did not look happy. She did, however, look bald.

"You roasted my hair off," she reminded him. "And now you will make me a wig!"

"I don't have to make you anything," he responded. "I just wanted your hairclip."

"Yeah, well, you fried that too!"

"What!" the phantom couldn't believe what he was hearing. After all his efforts!

"Now, GO MAKE ME A WIG, OR I'LL STEAL YOURS!"

"No, silly," the phantom said, not frightened by her in the least. "You wouldn't look good in mine."

"GO!"

"Fine," he replied, a wicked plan forming in his mind. He quickly put together a wig made of dirty horse hair, making it as messy and tangled as possible. He brought it to Christine and held it out for her.

"That is hideous," she said bluntly.

"But…" the phantom pretended to be hurt, his eyes filling with tears. "But I made it just for you!"

Christine realized she was being a jerk. "Never mind – just give it to me." The phantom smiled and put the wig backward on her head, so part of her baldness was still showing, and she couldn't see.

"I can't see," she complained.

"Here," he said, grabbing his soldering gun and pulling the hair gently away from her face. He soldered it to the side of her head. "Beautiful," he commented, a twisted smile forming on his face. Then he remembered his mission.

"Oh, Christine – keep in eye out for Madame Giry. I think she's fallen into one of my booby traps." Christine watched as the phantom skipped away, his cape billowing behind him.

She walked away. Suddenly, she noticed someone floating in a pool of water. She got down on her hands and knees to get a better look.

Madame Giry cried out in fear as the monster bent over her.

"Hello, Madame Giry," it said. "Why are you screaming? It's just me – Christine."

"Oh," Madame Giry sighed in relief. "It's just that wig…"

"Yes, well…" Christine couldn't quite explain the situation. "It's not that bad." She frowned when Madame Giry snorted. "Anyway, how is it that you are underwater, and yet you are not drowning?"

"Ah yes. Scuba-Gear. It's the latest." Christine nodded and walked away, leaving Madame Giry to swim in her pool. She was shocked when she fell through the floor and landed in a room full of mirrors…

The phantom laughed insanely as he heard Christine's shouts of pure terror. She wept.

Might Be Continued…