FirAndremin's Diary Chapter 3: A'hunting For The Opera Ghost, a phantom of the opera fanfic

Wow. I haven't written this in so long that I think I've lost the feel for it. Oh well. Here it is. If you get tired waiting, though, I always have my other story: My Father, the Fop. Also humor, by the way. For anyone waiting for Shape in the Shaodws to return, it will! Fanfiction dot net has taken it down because it was in script format, but I will be reposting it elsewhere. Stay tuned to my profile for info.

For anyone who wants to read my attempts at a serious phic, read In Retrospect. It's my new phic, and hopefully it's not terrible. Tell me what you think!

Now, review replies!

Nekona: Aww! Don't be sad! SITS was taken down for being in script format! But I WILL be reposting it elsewhere! My profile will keep you posted! I promise! Thank you so much for reading my stories and being patient with my random updating.

Aliyu: Have you gotten any sleep? Maybe this chapter will help. It has marshmallows.

Pirates are a girls best friend: The link didn't come up in your review. This makes me sad because I can't draw but I love artwork...

The Singing Fox Demon: Yes, I'm ashamed for taking so long. Sorry. I hope it's still interesting, thugh I hope you don't expect it to get too deep. It is, afterall, a gag parody. Thank you so much for your review! I shall try to be better with updating ths story...

Baffled Seraph: I haven't heard from you in a while! Are you stll around? Look, I updated! Please come back!

Weird Kitty Foxglove: Wow, you gave me an weirdmental image. Piangi pumping his fist in the air but his girth causes an earthquake, spliting the Earth down the middle. In a desperate attempt to keep the planet in one peice, everyone shoved Carlotta in the crack...

Tsunami Wave: Mind? I would be HONORED if you drew fanart! I can't draw at all, though! So make sure you give me a link!

AllThatJazz777: (In a trance by your awesome penname) Yes master... will continue... I agree with the slash comment. It's all in good fun!

Chapter 2: In Which Firmin and Andre Go A'hunting For The Opera Ghost

Andre

It was Madame Giry who knocked on our office door hours later, informing us that the coast was clear. It was too panicked to even think of answering the door, even for Madame Giry, but luckily Firmin was excellent with public appearances. He straightened his lapels, cast me a glare that said 'Get up and change your soiled pants, you coward', and strolled casually out.

Why couldn't I be more like him? Why couldn't I know how to turn off my emotions and become a businessman like him? Why couldn't I scream and run away like a girl without wetting myself, like Firmin could? He was so… manly. He was everything I wanted to be.

Or maybe he was simply everything I wanted.

Of course, in a completely platonic, business partner and friend way. Of course… obviously… undoubtedly… indubitably…

I hurried into the backroom to change.

Firmin

"We 'ave ey pobleem!" Madame Giry said, her face flustered beyond what I ever thought it could be.

"What? I'm sorry. It's hard to understand you. Here, write it down." I handed her a scrap of paper I found on the floor, probably the remains of Piangi's rampage, and a writing utensil.

Christine Daae eez meezeen. She wrote. Ai zink she 'as been kidnapped.

"Um… yeah. One moment. Excuse me." I backed into the office, slamming the door in the Madame's face. "ANDRE!"

"Coming!" Andre emerged, one pant leg on and the other dragging on the floor. The man may have had no talent for public appearances, but he was far better at interpreting other's feelings than I.

"Yes, come here. No, pull your pants up. No, now they're inside out. Here, let me do it. No, don't squirm so much! Alright, suck it in! Got it." I took a pinch of his sleeve and pulled him over to the door, opening it to a very shocked, or was it furiously insulted, Madame Giry.

"Wat eez zat all aboot?"

"Aboot? Now she's Canadian?" I said, bringing a hand to my forehead in frustration.

"Madame Giry, what's the matter? You look simultaneously flustered, shocked, and furiously insulted." Andre was such a sucker. Always worrying about people and concerning himself with little matters like their safety or well-being. No wonder he was such a bad business man and so talented at needle-point.

"I ZAID! We 'ave ey pobleem! ChristineDaae eez meezeen. Ai zink she 'as been kidnapped. Zen jour pahrtner 'ere slams ze door een mah face! Wat eez zat all about?"

"Aha! Now she says about! I don't really think she even has an accent! She's just messing with out heads!" I pointed in accusation at the old woman, but Andre calmly moved me aside.

"Now Firmin, remember your blood-pressure." He said, breathing deeply to remind me to do my breathing exercises to relax. I harrumphed and turned away, fuming. I hate it when Andre undermines my authority. Granted, I do it to him all the time. But that's not the same! He needs me to undermine him. He'd be lost without me! Didn't I mention he was a terrible business man?

But moving on. Andre turned to Madame Giry and the two conversed for a while about womanly things until finally Andre turned back to me and announced. "Oh dear, it seems Ms Daae has disappeared. Some believe she's been kidnapped."

"Really? And we should care why…?"

"Because, Firmin! She's the lead soprano!"

I had no head for the matter at hand. Really, what did I care whether some stupid chorus girl was missing or not? Sure, she had performed well at the gala. But if she was missing we could always pick another one, right?

"She eez ze only one 'oo can zing eet."

"Huh?"

"She said, she is the only one who can sing it." Andre translated.

"Who, Madame Giry?"

"No, Christine Daae."

"Christine Daae said it? I thought she was gone."

"No. Madame Giry said it."

"Said what?"

"That only she can sing it!"

"Only Madame Giry can sing it?"

"No! Christine!"

"Oh, she's back?"

"No! Madame Giry said that only Christine can sing it."

"…sing what?"

Andre

A few hours later we were below the Opera House, searching for the Opera Ghost. Firmin, after figuring out what was going on, had decided that we should ask the so-called 'ghost' if the girl he had kidnapped and Christine Daae were one in the same. I asked Firmin how we could find the Opera Ghost if he didn't exist, as Firmin claimed. Firmin told me to shut it and hurry up. I followed without further ado, bringing a blanket and a few other essential emergency supplies with me.

We wandered through the catacombs, the blanket draped over the both of us and an oil lamp in Firmin's hand to light the way. I held the bag of essential miscellaneous supplies to my chest tightly. It did not go unnoticed how the protection blanker forced Firmin and myself into close contact. At least, it did not go unnoticed by me. Firmin showed no signs of even knowing I was there with him.

But then again, Firmin was focused on the task at hand. He always was excellent at buckling down and gritting his teeth to do what had to be done without stopping. I, on the other hand, have always been the type to take breaks and get discouraged after a while. I don't think I could've ever made any money in the junk business without Firmin, let alone a fortune.

Firmin was wearing a new cologne, I realized. But it wasn't the one I had given him for Christmas. Not to say I didn't like it, it was enchanting. But I was a bit insulted that my fragrance had not been good enough for him.

Oh my, that came out wrong. What I meant to say was—AHH! There was suddenly a face in front of us. I buried my face into Firmin's back, cowering in the safety of the blanket. Firmin stood strong, though I could swear I had heard him scream too.

"You ninny!" Firmin said, pulling me out from behind him. "It's only a mirror."

"B-but the face!"

"Only our own reflections, distorted by the bright light of the lamp."

"Oh…" I exhaled in relief, then peered up at the mirror. "Well, quite a handsome face, if I do say so myself."

"Don't brag. It makes you more unbearable than you already are." Firmin said, pulling the blanket away to force me into moving on. I kept my gaze down in shame and did not dare to mention that I had meant his reflection. I suppose that is a compliment Firmin will never know he received…

Firmin

I knew I had just received a compliment. I am no fool! I had noticed that Andre had been looking at my reflection, not his own. But it had overwhelmed to hear him say it when I wasn't prepared so I had been forced to shoot his spirits down. Really! The man had no sense of timing! Could there be a more inappropriate time to tell me of my greatness?

I stopped. There was an awkward creaking sound in the air. It unsettled me, though I didn't know why.

That is until the creaking sound became a crashing sound and we fell through the floor.

"What a horrible place!" Andre whined, rubbing his soar behind. And what a behind… "There will be employees fired for this! Whose responsibility is it to have this repaired, anyway?"

"Yours." I said, standing quickly and dusting myself off as if I felt nothing. I knew showing any signs of pain would only encourage Andre to whine and groan about his own pains, whether or not they were really all that bad. Inverse-reverse psychology: if you ignore it, no one will remember it happened.

"Oh, in that case I should get right on that." Andre muttered dejectedly, picking up his bags. He looked like a child. I suddenly felt pedophilic.

"Andre!" I shouted, trying to clear my thoughts.

"What?" he jumped, nearly dropping his things once more. This place had turned him into more of a mouse than he already was.

"What…" I repeated, trying to think up a reason for my shout. "What… is in that anyway?" I snatched up the bag, tearing it open. White fluffs of frivolous flavor greeted me from its depths. "Marshmallows?"

"Yes."

"I told you to only bring the essentials!" I thundered. Or I tried to thunder. My voice was beginning to become hoarse under the cold conditions and from my constant attempts to thunder.

"They are essentials!" Andre insisted. "Miscellaneous essentials! I told you! You said it was fine!"

"Andre…" I said in a sing-song, mock kind voice. "If something is miscellaneous… HOW CAN IT BE ESSENTIAL?"

He said nothing but took back his bag defiantly. I scoffed and bent to pick up my lamp. It had cracked and was leaking. We would be out of light in mere moments. "Andre, we have to get out of here." I looked around, hurried. We had to find our way out before the light was spent or we would be fumbling in the dark. But where were we? The drop had left us in a foreign place. I could not even see where we had fallen through. Shouldn't there be a gaping hole?

"This way." Andre said, signaling for me to follow him down a hall. "It looks like we've been here before. Wherever we fell, it just led us backwards."

"But how does that even work?" It didn't make sense! We had been going down the entire time. How did falling through a hole take us back up? "Even worse, how do you know? You never know anything!"

"I left a trail of marshmallows, incase we lost our way." He said with a triumphant grin. "I told you! They're miscellaneous essentials!" I said nothing but walked ahead, following the sticky sugar-puff trail.

This went on for a while; the oil lamp began to flicker dangerously low, until suddenly the trail ended. I looked around, but we were in the middle of a hall, nowhere near and exit.

"Andre? What happened?" I demanded through clenched teeth.

"I…I don't know. I made the trail the whole way! It should lead back up to the Opera House! What's going on…?" We were interrupted by strange slurping noises from behind us. We both turned slowly, dreading, and found a marshmallow. "Well there's one!" Andre said happily.

I tapped his should so he would look at who was eating the marshmallow trail. The, on the floor, was Piangi, slurping up the remains of a marshmallow with his fat pink tongue.

"Hmm?" He stopped and looked up, the ripples of fat in his neck rippling. "Hoo-hoo?" He stared at Andre and me in confusion for a few moments, not at all seemingly interested in us. Perhaps Piangi didn't eat people, after all he had behaved relatively well at rehearsal. Perhaps then we were safe.

Then he spotted the marshmallow bag in Andre's hand. The lamp flickered with finality.

"HOO-HOO!" The lamp died.

"AHH!" We ran. We abandoned the blanket and the useless lamp and ran.

"Andre, you idiot! How could you use marshmallows when we just escaped from hoo-hoo?"

"Well at least I brought something to help us find out way out!" He retorted lamely. I was sure he must've been blushing in shame but I could not tell for sure in the dark.

"We're going to run into a wall if we keep this up!" I realized aloud. "We have to find a light!" From behind us we could hear hoo-hoo giving chase. How could the fat man move so quickly? Oh yes, he was probably rolling.

"HOO-HOO!" he called behind us. "HOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOO!"

"Andre, incase I don't say it often enough, you are SUCH an idiot!"

"Well, you don't like me for my brain! Everyone knows that! So stop beating a dead horse!"