Disclaimer: As much as I would like to, I don't own 'The Phantom of the Opera'. That belongs to Gaston Leroux, although certain aspects of the fic should be credited to Andrew Lloyd Webber and Susan Kay.

Christine and Erik crouched in one of the more remote areas of the house on the lake, more specifically, the basement, where they figured they would not be found by the Sue. It was dark, it was small, and it was located in the lowest part of the house, and the door was hidden under the carpeting. No one would find them there.

Unfortunately, that area of the house was a little bit cramped, resulting in Christine and Erik practically sitting in each other's laps as they anxiously awaited the Sue. Needless to say, this made the whole situation slightly awkward.

Christine muttered under her breath: "I don't know why we had to hide in this part of the house."

Erik, who was actually quite thrilled by the lack of space, replied curtly. "It was either this or the chamber of mirrors."

"Good point."

It was then that they heard the loud girlish squealing. And I'm not talking about the Sue.

"Dammit, where the hell is my Angel of Music!"

"I already told you, he abandoned his house for a condo in Majorca, and...OW!"

"Liar! Liar! Lying little fop!"

It was then that an odd sort of beating noise was heard, combined with the twanging of strings. Erik realized with a start that she was bludgeoning him with his Stradivarius. This led to conflicting emotions: save his violin or keep himself safe from the Sue? Dare he expose himself, not to mention Christine, to the horror that is a Sue? Dare he risk having her destroy the canon completely, and turning him into a man-whore?

Aw, screw it.

"That does it! No one messes with my violin!" Erik struggled, trying to get out of the cellar in order to battle the noncanonical Sue. However, he had difficulties because it was, after all, cramped, and because Christine was trying to stop him as best she could.

"Calm down!" Christine hissed. "Do you want her to hea-..."

It was then that the basement door was flung open, and the Mary Sue stood there triumphantly (along with a completely wrecked violin and a bruised Raoul). Apparently, just by hearing the faintest whispers of what they were saying, she was able to locate the door under about five layers of carpet using the Nonsensical Powers of the Sue.

"My angel!" And with her passionate cry she flung herself into Erik's arms. However, since both he and Christine were still in very cramped positions in the basement, this merely made the situation all the more uncomfortable, not to mention the fact that the Sue was nearly crushing her angel. With no intentions of ever letting go.

When she finally did let go of him, she stood proudly as Christine and Erik tried to make their legs work so that they could get out of the cellar. As they did so, the Sue smugly began announcing random gibberish that most people wouldn't announce if they just barged into a stranger's home. Then again, most people don't barge into stranger's homes. But Mary Sues aren't most people. Mary Sues are speshul.

"At last, at last! I have traveled through the entire Opera house just to find you, my angel! For you see, I the new chorus girl for the ballet corps, but I am in desperate need of some vocal training! You see, I..."

"Christine, could you please help me up? One of my legs fell asleep while we were down there..." Erik brushed some dust off of his pants leg and leaned against Christine for support as the Mary Sue huffed indignantly.

"Are you even LISTENING?" The Mary Sue pouted as Erik struggled to get out of the basement, limping because of his still-asleep leg. Raoul continued to lie on the floor, with the tattered violin at his side, praying to God that he would ban Stradivarius violins from existance.

"Yes, sadly." Erik sat down in an armchair, knowing full well that he would have to deal with this Sue's incessant babbling, and that it would be the exact same babbling he'd heard from a thousand other Sues. Maybe, if this one was long enough, he'd be able to finish reading a book in the meanwhile. He was dying to read 'The Cask of Amontillado'.

"Well, let me FINISH." She then returned to her bratty prima donna mode, adding some dramatic flourishes. "You see, I have struggled long and hard to come here to the Opera Populaire, where I must fulfill my dream of becoming the most famous and beautiful singer in the world!"

"Wait, the Opera WHAT? This is the Palais Garnier!"

"Let me FINISH! Aaaaaanyway, it is my one true dream to become a great opera singer. With you know, a huuuge dressing room, a carriage, top billing, tons of flowers...you know, the works."

Christine murmured, "You mean, like Carlotta?"

"No, not like her. She was so icky and...you know...German! And besides, Carlotta was sooooo ugly and mean, but I'm not like that at all!"

Christine responded dryly: "I'm sure."

"Aaaaaaanyway,my daddy told me once, right before he was devoured by maniacal squirrels, that he would send me the Angel of Music in order to teach me. So I figured, hey, why not just go hunt him instead of waiting until I'm, like, twenty and all wrinkled?"

"Uh-huh."

"Yeah, so anyway, I reeeeeally need singing lessons. Y'see, I've heard that I've got, whaddyacallit, 'potential'. I dunno what that means, but I think that it means once I have voice lessons, I'll be the most wonderful singer to have ever existed."

Erik sighed and put down his book, knowing full well where this was going. "Then what do you need me for? I'm sure Monsieur Reyer could find you a suitable teacher."

"Yeah, but you're...you know...the Angel of Music!"

Erik stood up and tried desperately to usher her out of his house. "Well, actually, I've retired from that particular post. The new Angel of Music resides inCancun, so if you wouldn't mind leaving my house..." And with that he tried to push her towards the door, until she spotted something that sparked her interest.

"Ooh, flowers!"

And she quickly ran into Christine's room, the source of all the flowers. Erik sighed and followed her. Raoul and Christine wisely decided to stay where they were. Well, Raoul really didn't have much of a choice, as he was still lying on the ground.

"Miss, you really can't..."

"Omigosh! This room is so pretty!" She twirled around and looked at all the things hat Erik had handpicked for Christine when he had originally designed the room. She then proceeded to dirty everything or break it. First off was a crystal vase that slipped straight out of her hands onto the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces.

"Oops."

"Look, this is Christine's room, so if you wouldn't mind leaving..."

"Ooooh, Christine gets a room." She took a glance over at the bed and giggled. "Gee, I wonder what's gone on in this particular room." Nod, nod, wink, wink.

Erik finally lost his temper completely. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" He pulled out the Punjab lasso and held it threateningly. He didn't really want to have to use it, but she had, you know, broken into his house. And broken his things. And harassed everyone there. So it seemed only fair.

But he had forgotten one important thing about Sues.

They weep openly at the drop of a dime.

"You don't understand! You just don't understand! No one ever does!" Her shoulders heaved as she sobbed heavily. "No one knows what I've had to go through in life! Not even you! Every time that I think I've escaped hardship, I'm always wrong." She collapsed onto the floor, weeping noisily.

Erik walked out of the room rolling his eyes, knowing full well what she was going to do next. "Christine, Raoul, let's leave. This one's another weeper with a tragic past." His sentences were punctuated by high-pitched wails from the next room. Raoul, still bruised from the incident with the violin, shut the door to Christine's room and propped a table (and a desk and a chair and a sofa and the pipe organ) up against it to keep her inside while Erik and Christine quickly gathered up some things they would need while running from the Sue. As they did so, they could hear random snippets of the Sue's wailing coming from the other room.

"...so beautiful that everyone wants to rape me...

...mother eaten by Pygmies...

...father arrested for jaywalking...

...never, ever got to drive a Porsche..."

And so on.

As the three canon characters made their way on to the gondolier, Erik pushed them off shore quickly and began punting with all his might. As they made their way across the lake, Christine asked: "What do we do now! Even the house on the lake isn't safe!"

Raoul, rubbing his violent violin wounds, tried to think, a process that was somewhat difficult for him. "Where can we go that the Sues will never find us?"

"We've already tried our own house and the house on the lake...and the opera house hasn't ever been safe from them!" She sighed. "We never had this problem when the Lon Chaney movie came out."

Erik thought calmly to himself for a minute. "There must be someone we can stay with...someone the Sues wouldn't dare touch...someone that seems to never have to suffer these Sues...someone who was never associated with Gerard Butler."

An idea struck Erik suddenly.

"Let's go talk to the daroga."