A/N: This is not my story. You should know that. If you thought that this was my story, then you are wrong. And if you are wrong, (which you are, btw) ,then you are wrong and that is that. Anyway, here is my pathetic attempt at channeling the cynicism in my bloodstream. Please R&R!

We see Christian standing in the middle of a white room.

He looks around.

(Christian): Is something supposed to happen?

(TwystedFate): Yes, but where is Toulouse? He is supposed to be singing!

Stagehand enters, dragging a flustered Toulouse in. Takes away the Absinthe bottle.

(Stagehand): You will get this back after you sing the song.

(Toulouse): (huffily) Fine. (sings): There was a boy!

The camera zooms in on Christian and knocks into him. Christian falls over. Christian rubs his head, looking around, wondering.

A very strange, enchanted boy!

We see Christian with stars in his eyes, staring at the wall.

(Christian): What a pretty wall. I wonder if it is single.

They say he wandered very far!

Christian is now standing on a treadmill. The treadmill begins to move quickly. Christian manages to barely keep walking along on it.

VERY far! Over land and sea!

On the treadmill Christian passes by a large cardboard cutout of a tree and a large cardboard cutout of a wave

A little shy!

Christian ducks as a beam gets loose from the ceiling and narrowly misses the treadmill.

And sad of eye!

We see his sleep deprived, baggy eyes.

But very wise was he!

A graduate cap falls from the sky and lands on his head

(Christian): What is this?

And then one day!

Christian keeps walking, getting tired

One magic day, he passed my way!

The treadmill moves about two feet to land in front of Toulouse

While we spoke of many things!

(Christian): Where am I?

Fools and kings!

(Christian): What do I care about fools and kings? I just want to get off of this treadmill!

This he said to meeeeee!

(Christian): The greatest thing you will ever learn! Is not to stay this long on a treadmill in a pantsuit.

(Toulouse): Err. I guess that works. Can I have my absinthe back?

The stagehand gives Toulouse his absinthe back.

(Toulouse): Thank ye.

Toulouse wanders off set and the treadmill of Christian stops. Someone offstage throws him a towel. Christian mops his brow while he talks.

(Christian): The Moulin Rouge. It was a nightclub. Now it is not. But it was! And Harold Zidler owned it. Notice the owned, just to let you know. It was a place where you could go, wearing as little clothing as you liked, and dance. There were lots of women, and only a few men. Does this say something?

Christian pauses to get a bottle of water thrown at him. He drinks some, wraps his towel around his neck and continues to speak

(Christian): The most beautiful of all of these women was the one I digged, dug? Satine. A large cardboard cutout of Satine is placed in front of him. She is wearing her red smoldering temptress dress and a large smile. Christian takes off his towel and drapes it over the shoulders of the cardboard cutout. The cardboard cutout falls over. Christian blushes and keeps going.

(Christian): She was the sparkling diamond. This would be because everyone gave her diamonds, and they sparkled. Thought I do not know why she was called the sparkling diamond if they were not really her diamonds, but that is okay. Anyway, she was the star. But now Satine is dead.

Christian produces some rose petals and drops them on top of the flat cardboard cutout

(Christian): At the time it was 1899. I wanted to go somewhere special for a new years celebration, so I came to Paris, Montmartre.

Christian stands still as a stagehand wheels in a backdrop of Montmartre, and the camera sort of dives into it while Christian talks.

(Christian): I did not know anything about Zidler or Satine. I did not even know of absinthe. We see Christian slowly step off of a train, clutching his typewriter in sweaty hands.

(Christian): There were these people, called the Bohos. Err, the Bohemians. And I wanted to be a part of them, so here I was.

We see Christian in his apartment, sitting in front of his typewriter

(Christian): It was not at all like what my father had called it

(The daddy of Christian): A village of slightly unethical wonderment!

(Christian): But a right peaceful place, filled with out of work bums. And I only had one problem with it, and that was the fact that I did not know what to write about.

(The story Christian): CURSE THIS WRITERS BLOCK!

(Christian): Just then, a stoned man fell through my roof

(story Christian): Bloody hell! There is a stoned man in my room!

(Toulouse): It is okay, he is with me!

(story Christian, who will now be known as Christian): This does SO MUCH good.

(Toulouse): I thought so too.