Chapter Two: The Bal Masque

Er…can I say that? Won't that push up the whole PG rating of this fic? Anyways, what have you. Once again we are brought back to the land of insanity and ridiculousness. In other words, we are back inside my mind, where you will undoubtedly come across a strange and curious creature. A creature with a leather mask covering half of his face, or is it a fourth? We can see his mouth unobstructed, oohh think of that for a moment, Gerard Butler's mouth. Hm…oops, out of character there for a sec. I am the omniscient narrator, with an unbiased outlook and sexually indeterminate stance. I admire nothing, describe all. That's it. Still, gotta luv that boy's bum!

Anyways…must remember to mentally scold myself for that disgraceful comment.

So last we heard of poor Frankenstein, he had jumped into the frigid waters of Antartica, plummeting to his doom alongside his miserable creator. Bearing an eerie resemblance to the final scene of Titanic, the dreaded duo uttered their last parting words.

Frankenstein's monster, being smarter than Shelley credits him, takes hold of a life raft which was randomly floating atop the murky green waters and wades gently toward the water's edge. A nearby penguin immediately curses the monster for taking his only toy. The little creature shakes his fist…er, fin, er…uh…wing (pardon my lack of knowledge in the field of bird anatomy).

Frankenstein's monster knew he could never show his face in society again (well, I suppose "again" is a rather inappropriate word to use. I just thought "never have never will" was lacking in the somber quality I feel is most fitting for this morose and somber fiction…see, I'm serious, I even used "somber" twice!). He knew exactly who to turn to in times such as these, the only other man in God's green earth (don't worry, I won't start that again…) who would understand what it feels like to have to spend a lifetime in shadow. Frankenstein then grabbed hold of the nearest tuxedoed foul and urged the belligerent little fellow to make haste for Paris, France.

Having had his fill of pecks in the eye, the monster decided, instead, to stowaway the ship that was ever so conveniently passing by his plot of ice.

"Masquerade!"

"Masquerade!"

"Ladida, dida, dun dum dum!"

Arg, thought the phantom with a scowl. He was wondering how long he would have to wait before those fools stopped their ridiculous singing. He was also curiouos about the precise procedure to take in order to remove the black eyeshadow he had placed around his eyes. Inspecting his reflection in the mirror, he couldn't help but notice how very flattering that particular shade of black was to his eye color.

"I really hope I have not turned gay all of a sudden. This had better not be one of those fanfictions…"

I assure you, Erik, that you shall remain completely heterosexual in this fiction.

Erik breathed a silent sigh of relief. He straightened a loose tendril of hair, and realized it was his cue to step in front of the crowd of masked spectators. He was late.

"Oops."

"Fashionably late, eh Monsieur Phantom?" Mouthed the rather cheeky blonde girl in the extremely revealing ball gown.

Erik had to remind himself once more that he was here to attend to very serious matters, which did not necessarily involve this particular blonde girls' ample, and highly enticing bosom.

What the hell.

"Hello, Mademoiselle, what is your name." He said alluringly.

Christine stepped on his foot, he had been so distracted by cleavage that he had not noticed her running right up to him on the stairway.

"Ow! You know what? Just for that…yoik!" He had to think of something clever and devious to sing at that moment, something to solidify his role as the brooding anti-hero.

"Your chains are still mine! You belong to me!" He pocketed the ring, and took one last look at the blonde number's advertisement.

The woman smiled noticeably, eyeing Erik's tight, well formed bum in that ever so sexy pair of red-death pants. Being an omnescient, all knowing but completely infallible narratorI cannot say that I too am hopelessly oogling at that fine arse. Nor can I say that his sensual smile and to-die-for pecks attracted me as well. I cannot say that.

"Meg!" Christine scolded.

No, Christine, I did not mean that Meg smiled back, I meantMadame Giry.

"Ew."

"Hey, I am a heterosexual too alright. I'm not dead you know. And just look at that ass!"

Suddenly reduced to little more than a Chippendale's dancer, Erik's face darkened with indignation.

"I'm still here you know, the puff of smoke thing hasn't happened yet."

"Well then what are you waiting for…Raoul will be back from the bathroom any second now."

With those final words, the Vicomte stepped out of the John and was just finished fastening the latch on his belt when the Phantom vanished into a puff of smoke and fire.

Aren't I just the coolest? He thought inwardly, taking a moment to fix a tiny smudge on his cheek from the eye shadow. Secretly, this was one of the main reasons that portal had so many mirrors around it. The Vicomte soon discovered the opening, and was marveled at how swishy and dashing his hair looked in the 360 degree mirror room. He made a mental note to thank the phantom for his taste in décor whenever he had the chance. Seeing the Punjab lasso dislodge from the ceiling, Raoul figured this would not be the best time to ask the phantom the name of his interior decorator.

Thanks to my sole reviewer (gerbear). It is because of you that I have decided to add this lil bit to the story…don't you feel special! LOL See that everyone, it DOES pay to review…you get chapters dedicated to you…

PS: Yeah...erik in tight, red pants...:wah...ahem...er, uh...was I gonna do something..oh yes...please review!