Hey again! School's out! Next chapter. Not sure if I can pull off an entire chapter about plaid, but whatever. If it bores you to tears, tell me, and I'll stop mentioning plaid. And now I have the word "plaid" stuck in my head. It's one of those words that if you say it over and over again, it starts sounding weird. Plaid, plaid, plaid, plaid, plaid…


Chapter IX: Something Plaid

Far too soon, de Chagny's internal organs that had been crushed by the chandelier were reattached and he was sent out of the hospital wing back to my dorm. It was, though, quite amusing to see his reaction to all that I had done to his Humphrey the Magenta Panther merchandise (it involved mainly a black Sharpie, a few matches, some scissors and a LOT of duct tape).

"Humphrey!" He cries. "You monster! What did you do to poor little Humphrey!"

"It's only a bit of permanent marker… and it's not like you can't by a new one. Anyway, Humphrey the Pitch Black Panther has a much better ring to it."

You could see his bottom lip beginning to tremble. "But… But Humphrey! He's ruined! You're such a… a… a meanie!"

He really needs to hire a better dis-writer.

"If you do anything else to Humphrey, I'll tell!"

"I feel so threatened," I reply sarcastically. And apparently he can't take sarcasm very well either, because he says,

"You know what? I'm just going to tell the manager right now! AND get a new, COOL roommate, who understands a man's relationship with his Humphrey action figure!"

If I wasn't seriously scared by that show of affection for a stuffed cat, I would have been laughing uncontrollably. But about a minute after he left, I hear a knock on the door. I open it, and find the Fop's come back, looking frantic.

"What's your problem?" I ask. "Did you forget the way to the manager's office?"

"No, I remembered this time. It's the Manager himself. He's- he's- I think he's sick!"

"So…?"

"He's wearing plaid."

"So…?" I repeat.

"He's wearing an orange and green plaid suit with a hot pink striped tie!"

I drop my Punjab. "He's what? Is he crazy? Who in their right mind wears pink?"

"Um…" he replies, trying and not really succeeding to hide his pink jeans from view.

"Never mind. So what do you want me to do about this?"

"I don't know… Something?" Raoul asks hopefully.

"Sorry, de Chagny, but I have better things to do than correct our Manager's fashion disasters. I mean, think of all the more important things I could be doing! Like… clipping my toenails."

"Ooh! Can I give you a pedicure?" He asks eagerly. I decide I don't want to know.

"Um, no. I was kidding about the toenails. It's a… figure of speech." Raoul looks like someone just deprived him of Christmas, which makes me feel even better. "Yah, I have to go talk to Giry about getting rid of you… So see ya!"

I exit the dorm and head for the stage, where Giry is overseeing the ballet rats. When she sees me, she pulls me to the side, saying she needs to talk to me. "Oh, Monsieur Erik." She begins.

"Um, Madame Giry?"

"Yes?"

"Never call me that again."

"Sorry, can't do anything about it. Script." She explains. By the time this is over, what's the betting we're all so sick of it that we decide to burn the stupid Authoress at the stake? "The things you hear these days! I've heard of a Count, a brother of a fop, who used to be all about vanity. And now he has lost his sanity! And a witch at Shiz University who was the epitome of diversity, forbidden her passion! Because she lacks fashion! Only rumors, but still, enough to give fury to anyone named Giry! Something plaid… is happening in France…"

"Someone really needs to get the Authoress a new rhyming dictionary. Who rhymes fury with Giry? And 'count' comes nowhere close to rhyming with 'fop.' I think the sun is affecting her brain," I comment.

"I have to agree with you on this one. Now say your line before she notices that we're having a dissing fest over here."

"Something plaid? Happening in France?"

"Under the surface, behind the scenes, something plaid..."

"Madame Giry- if something plaid is happening to the Fops, someone's got to tell Galinda. That's why we have Galinda."

"Who's Galinda?"

"Beats me. Why is it even such a big deal that everyone's losing their sense of fashion, anyway?"

"It's mainly to save on cleaning bills. Fops explode when they're exposed to people who lack fashion. And trust me, Fop Guts take a lot more than Windex to scrape off of the walls."

"Which is why de Chagny's the slave of fashion, right?"

"Exactly."

And of course, since we started veering off-topic, that annoying raven that scares the heck out of Raoul showed up. This time, the note said,

I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves! Everybody's nerves! I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves and this is how it goes! I know a song that gets on… Um, yes. The note. Right. Yah, stay on topic. Or I shall be forced to unleash the rabid donkeys! MWAHAHAHAHA!

I remain, Giry and Erik, your obedient dictator, CG.

"People need to stop giving her sugar," I remark, and Giry nods in agreement. I glance back at my script to see where we are. "So nothing plaid..."

"You had better be right, because I'm the only one who knows how to clean up Fop Guts." Madame Giry agrees.

"Nothing all that plaid," we sing together.

"Nothing truly plaid."

"What's that supposed to mean? Truly plaid as opposed to the poser plaids, or what?" I ask.

"There are poser plaids?"

"Apparently." I return to the script. "It couldn't happen here… In France…"

"Why did we just sing an entire song about plaid?" Giry wants to know.

"Dunno. It sounded kind of repetitive. But it is the name of the chapter."

"I'm bored. You wanna go get some Krispy Kremes?"

"Sure, why not."

"I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves…" we start singing together. Trust the Authoress to get that song stuck in our heads...


Yay! I love that song! It gets on everybody's nerves (hence the title)! Thanks to everyone who's read this! Please review! Everyone who reviews gets a free t-shirt advertising the carousel at Wild Waves! Can you tell I'm hyper? Yay! What's to come: The Phantom of the Opera (the song, I mean) Wickedized. (No clue how I'm going to do that, so any suggestions would be well appreciated). And in response to the reviews I got for the past two chapters...

Alli Lynn- Yah, I was hoping you weren't a Raoul fan, because you would probably object to dropping a chandelier on him, huh? But, you're not, which is good! Go Erik Phans! Woot!

Ravensmyst: Of course I read your reviews! It's not like I get that many, and anyway, reviews make me feel special! And so I always run around advertising that I got reviews! And oh, look, now I'm ending all of my sentences with exclamation points, too! Join the club!

Ravensmyst: Yah, I know last chapter was freakishly short, but that's because I couldn't find much to do with Little Lotte. I will definately be making chapters longer and more frequent because summer's here and I don't have a social life!

Yup, I'm done now. I'll update as soon as I finish my next chapter! Again, thanks for reading, and special-thanks with a punjabbed fop on top for the reviews!