Hello! We'd like to welcome our newest joint minion, Music Angel no. 24601 and all those who reviewed, namely Gabi, Yami Wah and Yami Moh!
But we want more reviews from randoms! Those who have read the story and yet not reviewed! I know because we have lots of hits but no reviews! Someone must find our story amusing as we bag the movie! Come on! You know you want to! REVIEW!
Disclaimer: Grrness! We compare owning POTO like people who ice-skate on water: utterly impossible except for the delusional! And we are, indeed, delusional.
This story is called:
Musical EscapadesBut may also be known as:
In Which…Well, Not a lot Happens, Really, Unless you Count Christine Waking Up and Having a Slight Case of Amnesia, the Playing Monkey "in Persian Robes" Being Introduced, Bertie Finally having his Revenge, and the MASK BEING REMOVED! Insert shock, horror music played loudly and dramatically here Being a lot that Happens. But if, Of Course, you Do Believe So, Disregard Everything that Has Been Typed and Move On! Even if what Is Typed after This is Really, Exciting, Amusing or Controversial, you Must Disregard it All! No! Sorry, you Had your Chance! No…go Away….no…
RAOUL BASHING!
By the way, the song 'Up Shit Creek' to the tune of 'Uptown Girl' does NOT belong to Phantom of the Opera. It belongs to some of Death and Destruction's close personal friends/minions. Just thought we'd clear that up for you…!
Christine awoke, rather suddenly and inexplicably. Nothing had really happened, like a large noise, or an earthquake, to wake her up, so really it must have been scripted. She also seemed to have accumulated quite a lot of make-up while asleep. How strange…Then the strange music box shaped like a monkey in Persian robes turned itself on, which would have been quite normal if someone had actually turned it on, but…they hadn't, so it looked kind of freaky. One might expect its eyes to glow a demonic red and it to cackle manically. But it didn't.
Christine picked up the monkey and began to shake it until the hypnotic music jolted and cut out and the ominous sound of several loose screws was heard instead. "What's inside?" Christine screamed in a frenzy of joy, like a child with a Christmas present. She tried to pry it open. "What's insssiiidddeee?" The monkey couldn't actually be opened and soon it went sailing through the air into the underground lake.
So, Christine, being of the more inventive and curious types in the world, pulled the dangling black tassel beside the bed. Nothing happened, because as we know, the tassel that was supposed to pull up the black curtain had already been broken by the Phantom. So she pulled again. And again. Still nothing happened. So she crawled unceremoniously underneath the black curtain and, as is common with opera singers, burst into song for no particular reason.
"I remember there was mist,
Swirling mist upon a vast glossy lake…
There were candles all around and on the lake there was a gothic boat…
And in the gothic boat there was a man…"
After those stirring and illuminating lyrics, she promptly fell into the lake. Christine screamed and began splashing around, choking on a lot of water and…various other floating items. The Phantom, seated at his organ in a stylish burgundy dressing-gown, turned his head and watched the soprano flounder around like a giant fish in a slutty night gown. Then he turned back and concentrated hard on drawing musical signs on his piece of paper, playing talentedly with the other hand. Christine crawled up out of the lake, dragging herself across to the organ. The Phantom fully turned around from playing the glorious notes coming out of the organ, taking both hands off the keys. The glorious music kept playing in a subtle yet electronic way.
"Who was that shape in the shadows...?
Whose is the face in the mask…?"
Yes my friends, opera singers can still sing while crawling on their diaphragms towards masked madmen. Isn't it amazing? Christine began to clamber to her feet, using a conveniently-placed burgundy dressing-gown to do so. Meanwhile, completely oblivious, the Phantom thundered out the Overture on his organ, clearly enjoying himself in a slightly insane sort of way. Christine grabbed the Phantom's mask for the last ascent to standing…and it came off.
"Whoops!" said Christine calmly, as though she hadn't just pulled away a half porcelain mask to reveal a deformed face of a paranoid musical genius. The Phantom, however, reacted in a more horrified and surprised way.
"Damn you! You little prying Pandora! You little demon- this is what you wanted to see? Curse you! You little lying Delilah! You little viper- now you cannot ever be free!"
Christine mouthed the names 'Pandora' and 'Delilah' in a puzzled fashion and looked behind her to see if there was someone else he could possibly be addressing. Staggering down the steps, the Phantom collided with a candlestick, knocking it over and then tripping over it.
"Damn you…curse you…"
He paused for a moment, lying face-down on the ground before rising rather suddenly.
"Stranger than you dreamt it…can you even dare to look or bear to think of me, this loathsome gargoyle, who burns in hell but secretly yearns for heaven, secretly…secretly…Christine…"
"Yes?" asked Christine, zoning back in with a very acceptable moved and teary-eyed expression. The Phantom seemed convinced, at any rate. So he continued.
"Fear can turn to love- you learn to see, to find the man behind the monster, this…repulsive carcass, who seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty, secretly…secretly…Oh, Christine…"
He collapsed onto the floor where she was lying for some obscure reason and held out his hand for the mask. Rather than giving it back to the poor angsty man, Christine put it on, ran over and grabbed his special swirly cloak from the corner and snatched a wig from beside the gothic mirror. She then raced to the organ and struck a few chords.
The Phantom raised an eyebrow, before deciding the poor girl must be traumatized. "We must return. Those two fools who run my theatre will be missing you." Christine stared uncomprehendingly at him.
He sighed. 'Get in the boat. And give me those!"
Again he held out his hand for his outfit, without which he was simply not the Phantom. Christine decided to exclaim rather randomly at that particular moment:
"I am the Phantom of the Opera! Daaaa da da da da daaaa!"
She swirled her swirly cloak and flashed a grin.
For the next couple of minutes, we shall leave the Phantom to chase Christine around his lair trying to get his stuff back…and return to the scene where they are both safely in the boat, heading back to the secret passage, in a way that is not nearly as dramatic as the way they arrived. The Phantom was poling, Christine was sitting in the bow and looking vacantly into the distance….all we need is a bit of a song…
"We'reeeeeeee……"
The Phantom started cheerfully. Christine didn't join in or seem to recognise the song so he continued on his own.
"We're up Shit Creek, without a paddle…"
And it was true. The cool gothic pole was drifting away, even as the Phantom was trying to make subtle grabs at it without Christine noticing. Then he noticed something else.
"And the boat's got a leak…"
This time Christine did turn around. But by this stage, the Phantom was lying full-stretch in the boat, with one elbow firmly plugging the hole and his head resting on it in a relaxed fashion.
"What are you doing Angel? Shouldn't you be poling in the gothic boat?"
The Indian voice once again arrived to debate the matter of the boat.
"It's a gondola, you silly little girl!"
"Gothic boat!"
"Gondola!"
"Gothic boat!"
"Gondola!"
"Gothic boat!"
The unrecognisable yet strangely familiar voice decided to offer its opinion again.
"Well I think it's a canoe! CANOE I SAY!"
Another unrecognisable yet strangely familiar voice appeared, or rather, was heard.
"Looks a bit like one of those Red Indian longboats to me."
"They're canoes."
"No, longboats are distinctly different to canoes."
"They're all canoes in the end."
"What about the Titanic? Was that a canoe in the end?"
"No, it was half a ship at the bottom of the ocean… It looked a bit like a canoe."
"No, it didn't."
"Yeah it did."
"What about pirate ships? Are they canoes?"
"No, but they had canoes on them. For boarding other ships."
"Yes, yes, that's true."
Meanwhile, in the background,
"It's a gondola!"
"Gothic boat!"
Finally the Phantom put a rather effective end to the conversation by saying, as a continuation of his long abandoned song,
"We're being stalked by an anaconda…
His name is Pauline and he's actually quite nice once you get to know him..."
And sure enough, behind them, swam an anaconda, a really digitally-enhanced and computer-generated type of one which you see in so many movies nowadays. Christine screamed and huddled in the centre of the boat. The Phantom, on the other hand, laughed and dangled his hand over the edge of the boat, inches from the snapping fangs of Pauline.
"Once you get past those razor sharp teeth!" The Phantom sang, pointing out the razor sharp teeth that the anaconda bore, "And those malicious eyes, they're quite like mine don't you think?"
He turned to look at Christine, who instead of offering her opinion was miming poling. It seemed she still thought she was the Phantom. Then, in the corner of his eye, the Phantom noticed a familiar shape galloping along beside the canal.
"Oh look there's Bertie,
Lolling his tongue in revenge at me!
I wonder why?
Walls don't hurt that much!
Or do they? I guess I can't say!
At this moment Bertie opened his mouth and made a scream that was a mix of a moose sound and the mating call of a koala. It went a bit like this: "Hrraaaaaaggggh…!"
"I think he let Pauline out,
Past the barbed wire, electric fences, force field and the combination lock,
That only Bertie and I know the code to!
Where's my elephant rifle?"
Death sat next to Destruction in the rafters, trying to hide the bulging shape of an elephant rifle under her cloak. She giggled innocently, but Destruction was no fool. Well, some of the time she was, but not this time!
"Did you steal the Phantom's elephant rifle?"
Death was indignant, "Of course not! Who do think I am?"
"Elephant rifles are hard to find theses days! You've got to take the opportune moments for what they are! Opportunities!"
Death nodded, "Okay." Death, who was being rather defensive, held the rifle in only one hand, now that she was reassured of its safety, instead of hugging it to her body and groping for her scythe. "When we have the opportune moment, we'll blast this through the speakers!"
She motioned to an object that lay hidden by shadows. Death looked at for a moment, then back to Destruction. As if on cue, they cackled simultaneously .This was, for further reference, extremely frightening. And it would have been more so, had Destruction not fallen off the rafters into the water.
Christine, thoroughly frightened now that the anaconda was nibbling the side of the boat/gondola/Indian longboat and the Phantom was splashing around in the water-filled boat, she began to sing, because it was whatOpera singers tend to do a lot,
"I'm getting quite scared,
What fell into the water back there?
It sounded quite large!
("Hey!" shouted Destruction with anger)
I want to go back to the O-per-aaaaa!"
The boat bumped into a dock of sorts suddenly and she was flung into a nearby stone wall.
Death chuckled, amused, then recovered with, "I mean, how terrible."
Destruction just threw a spork at her.
The Phantom, being extremely dashing and charming gentlemen with all sorts of chivalry- like things, carried her up the stairs. When he reached the mirror he realized that he didn't have an extra arm to open the door with, so he used his foot, hopping about trying to get the mirror open. It was quite difficult due to Christine's weight and he teetered on the edge a bit. However, he managed to save himself and laid the unconscious and extremely heavy Christine on her bed. He then backed down the stairs behind the mirror in a really dramatic, graceful way that Raoul couldn't even comprehend. Or imitate. Or...he wasn't actually in the room at the time, so who cares what Raoul thinks?
Unfortunately for him, at that moment Death and Destruction wanted to makehis exitmore dramatic. The tunes of the Overture blasted really loudly through the speakers and the Phantom jumped and looked about with surprise and anger. He stepped back, on what is believed to be air. Then again it could be a very weak stair because he fell back and rolled down the stairs in a very ungainly fashion to the thunderous chords of the Overture.
Now review! We have hits, many hits in fact, but they're just not quite as rewarding as a nice juicy review to sink our fangs into…tastes like chicken…(licks lips)
No seriously! About the reviews, not the chicken taste…
We for one have never eaten a review so we cannot tell.
Death and Destruction, Mistresses of all Slippery Substances People Just Happen to Slip Over On…and Bananas