I do not own Phantom of the Opera in any size shape or form, nor do I own any of its characters.

Chapter One

In which Erik prepares for Santa's visit, and learns a thing or two about something or other.

Dear Monsieur Claus,

It is time for your annual delivery of goods to my home. Below, please find the items that I require for the coming year. If they are delivered packaged in brightly colored paper again, a disaster beyond your imagination shall occur.

Here is a list of the items that you will leave for me:

1. Several lengths of 180 lb. Test rope, suitable for hanging and garotting

2. One Insta-gro Rose Starter kit

3.Vlad Tepesh's Guide To Advanced Sneaking and Lurking, 7th Edition

4. One Blushing Bride wedding gown pattern. (Christine did not like wedding gown I made from the pattern you left last year. I trust that you will not make the same mistake again).

5. 100 yards of black ribbon

6. One black velvet opera cloak with razor blades set into the bottom hem, for swirling at people.

7. A case of Stay-Put Mask Adhesive For Sensitive Skin.

8. Rat poison

9. More rats

10.Subscription to "Little Lotte Comix"

In addition, if you wouldn't mind killing the Vicomte DeChagny for me while you're in Paris, you'd save me much time and inconvenience.

I will be expecting to find the above items at the foot of my coffin when I awake tomorrow. If I find that you have left one of those dreadful trees again, you will regret it.

-Your Obedient Servant,

O.G.

PS: Regarding the discussion we had last year: Rest assured that I will not leave a false chimney over my torture room's trapdoor this time.

Erik sealed the envelope with his usual festive skull insignia, and left it by the plate of cookies. He knew he should be going to sleep, but he was just too excited. Monsieur Claus was coming, and he didn't even have to be kidnapped! Well, there'd been some question about that last year, after the false chimney over the torture room trapdoor incident. Erik had found it quite amusing, but Monsieur Claus was quite put out about it. There was some talk about a "naughty list", and stockings full of coal, which sounded very painful to Erik. But, after he offered his Red Death outfit as a replacement for the man's charred clothing, and gave him a large sum of money to replace the Elks, or whatever the old man's pets had been, Monsieur Claus seem mollified. Erik let the man go after he promised to return the following year.

And now it was Christmas Eve, again! He sat, tapping his foot, and drumming his fingers. He really should go to sleep. He should. After all, Monsieur Claus was coming. He was coming tonight….he really should go…to…

Erik sighed and struggled with his conscience. It was not a long struggle, as you might imagine, because he quickly remembered that he didn't have one. Having gotten that sorted out, he arose from his armchair, and went over to the closet. It took him awhile, but he found it, tucked way in back next to his Roly-Poly-Raoul Punching Bag. He hauled it out, and dusted it off. He smiled in satisfaction. It looked pretty realistic for a papier mache chimney, if he did say so himself, and it fit perfectly over the trapdoor….

Later, with the chimney in place, and the cookies all eaten, Erik sat waiting for Monsieur Claus. The hours crept by slowly, and the lair remained silent. Erik's eyes began to close, and his head nodded gently. Suddenly he was awakened by a huge crash and a thud from inside of the torture chamber. Monsieur Clause had come! Erik smiled delightedly, and settled back to wait for the fun to begin.

His smile faded as the minutes slid by. There was no sound at all coming from the torture chamber, and he began to wonder what was going on in there. He was about to get up to investigate, when strange blue energy crackled around the torture room doorway. Erik scrabbled over the back of the chair, and hid behind it. As he did, the chamber's door blew off of its hinges and went sailing across the room. Maybe next year I shouldn't use the false chimney, he thought.

He heard nothing from the torture room for a few moments, and then there were heavy footsteps, and "Khooh-khee, Khooh-khee!"

Erik didn't think this sounded very much like Monsieur Claus, and he was right. What emerged from the smoking torture room doorway was nothing like the gentleman he'd met last year. This one was taller than Erik. He wore black shiny boots like Monsieur Claus, but the resemblance stopped there. He was clad in black, wore a quite fashionable black cloak, and had a big shiny black head. It was the strangest head Erik had ever seen, and he wanted it to go away. Out snaked the Punjab lasso, and it whipped toward the big black Not-Monsieur-Claus creature.

The Thing raised one hand, and the noose halted in mid-air. It made a lightening swift U-turn, and hurtled back toward Erik, settling around his neck. Erik screamed and frantically flung the rope from its resting place. The Thing lifted his hand again, this time toward the torture chamber, and a large sack, filled with gaily wrapped presents came floating through the door. It hovered for a few moments, and then plunked to the floor at the Thing's feet.

The Thing-With-the-Black-Shiny-Head, turned toward Erik as though noticing him for the first time.

"Erik", it said, "I am youah Santah"

"No-o-o-o-o!" Screamed Erik, "It's not possible!"