Hello, hello, and welcome to what will be one of the very few author's notes evAr. I plan to address some bogus issues here, which may or may not have significance. Does anybody actually read this? I don't. Well, first…

I don't know what Excel Saga is. O.o

Second, thanks to my 8 reviewers. Yes, eight. Love ya, guys.

Third, I suppose I should explain why Erik and Christine are always making out. Well, in order to fully understand it, you need to know about The Sims 2. It's a wonderful game in which you create little people and have them live their lives in awesome houses. Well, I created Erik, Christine, Meg, Mme. Giry and Raoul and moved the former 4 into a house together which I designed (quite well, I might add) to look like the Opera Populaire. Well, knowing my EC tendencies I had Erik and Christine fall in love, and had Raoul get his ass kicked by Erik on several occasions. Sorry, Raoul fans (looks sorry). After they fell in love, Erik began acting rather oddly. His life's aspiration is to get married and have a bunch of kids (shut up! It was the best aspiration I could pick that suited him!), so he should want to get hitched to Christine and start making babies. But he never even showed interest in this. The one thing he wants ALL THE TIME is to make out with Christine. All the time. 24/7. Eventually I got him and Christine down the aisle, and now they're going to have an adorable mutant baby.

But whatever. I'm done now.

"I've decided to compose a rock opera."

"That's nice, dear." Christine said without looking up from her book.

"What's a rock opera?" Binky asked.

Erik was silent.

"Be quiet, you." Erik said.

"Sorry, sir." Binky said politely.

The author then forcefully tossed this scene away, and switched to another scene entirely. The scene in particular was the stage of the Opera Populaire, where the ballet dancers were practicing their little dance numbers for an opera as equally disturbing as Il Muto. The comedy sheep frolicked about the stage, eating imaginary grass and having their wool shorn off by imaginary shears. The way this was achieved was by giving the sheep gum to chew and infecting them with flesh-eating lice.

"Hey, isn't Meg supposed to be here?" one of the dancers asked.

"Yeah, but she's out banging some satyr," another dancer responded.

"I am NOT!" Meg shrieked, appearing out of nowhere.

"Oh, hello Meg," the first dancer said merrily.

"Yes, yes, hello. What are we working on? That Don Juan thingy again?"

"It's not a thingy, Meg, it's an opera. And we are not, because when it's performed chandeliers fall and we just got that new one last week." Madame Giry said, exasperated.

"Well then, what are we performing?" Meg asked.

"We're performing that new opera about the girl who lives under an auditorium and falls in love with a random violinist. And then she kills some flutist girl. It's very popular in…um…Spain."

"But you just described a cheap ripoff of our canon, Madame Giry," said little Jammes.

"Be quiet, Jammes. Nobody likes you anyways. This one is much different. It's set to loud guitar music."

"What's a guitar?"

"SHUT UP!" Madame Giry cried. "I'm trying to be hip and topical so that the new generation of phangirls will understand the dialogue!"

There was a tense silence, minus the sounds of the dying sheep and the author's furious typing.

"Right, so what's it called?"

"It's called The Phantom of the Rock Opera."

Hysterical laughter rang out from beneath the stage.

"Christine says it's dumb, Mother." Meg said.

"Yes child, I heard her."

Meanwhile, Torgo and the Master were sewing some wedding dresses out of twine and copious bits of duct tape. Actually, Torgo was doing all the sewing, and he was doing an extremely poor job of it.

"Faster, Torgo! Sew FASTER!" the Master yelled, whipping Torgo.

"But Master, I can't sew. At all."

"Be quiet, you! SEW! SEW! SEEEEWWW!"

"I have only one hand! It's going to take awhile!"

The Master was silent.

"SHUT UP!"

Torgo did as he was told, deciding that he rather liked his single hand and did not want to lose it like he lost the last one. He attempted pitifully to thread the needle with the twine, and then after failing duct taped it to the needle. After about a day or so (in which absolutely nothing eventful happened, minus the death of many comedy sheep and some more making out on the part of Erik and Christine), Torgo managed to finish the sleeve of one dress.

"Master, can't I go and participate in some TorgoxMeg fluff? It's disturbing to all the Meg fans!" he asked.

The Master thought this over for a bit. Well, not really a bit. The Master was very dense, so this took quite a while.

"Well…fine. You can't sew worth shit anyways."

"Woohoo!" Torgo cried.

Fortunately, the MegxTorgo fluff did not take place. Instead, the ghost of Raoul floated around some more with his new girlfriend, the ghost of Mary Jane Watson. She had been killed long ago by an angry Tobey Maguire fangirl who couldn't spell.

"So tell me the story of your death," she asked him.

"Well, it all started when I was engaged to this hot little number named Christine. But she fell in love with this dude who like, lived under the operahouse where she sang. And they like, sang about the music of the night and passing the point of no return and sleeping buds bursting into bloom and other inappropriate things. But then he tried to like, Punjab me or some shit, so she left him. Then we were gonna get married but then she decided that she thought my lavender shirts looked stupid and that I couldn't sing worth crap so she left me and entered a common-law marriage with the other dude."

"…So how did you die?"

"A pink elephant fell on top of me. But not before he apologized and offered to take tea with me on Wednesday. That callous bastard."

Mary Jane was stunned.

"Oh, by the way, I can't see you next week because I've got a date with Dollar."

Now she was hurt. Who was this Dollar woman?

"Who's that?"

"My dollar right here." Raoul held up his beloved American dollar. Mary Jane looked at him, stunned even more. She wondered if she was dating a lunatic, and then mentally decided that it was obvious she was.

"Hey, are you gonna eat that?" Raoul asked, pointing to the baguette Mary Jane was clutching.