Chapter 2
"I simply got rid of the thing that was causing you to look ridiculous." Erik said calmly.
"Well it just so happens that that ponytail was a total chick magnet!" Raoul shouted, infuriated.
"Was it really?" Erik asked, sarcastically. He started to walk toward his bedroom.
"What are you doing now? Are you going to leave me here? Where am I supposed sleep?" Raoul asked.
"In answer to your questions monsieur, I am going to work on an opera piece, yes I'm going to leave you here, and you will either sleep on the ground or in the hammock when I am not using it."
"Why can't I use the guest bedroom?"
"That room is strictly for Christine!" Erik growled and flung the Punjab lasso around his neck.
Raoul, who now had his hands free had remembered to keep his hand at the level of his eye, reminded Erik of Christine's visits and Erik loosened the rope.
"You ,sir, are very lucky to have an excuse to live." he spat.
"So, umm, why do you have a hammock?"
"Grrrrrrrr!"
"Okay, okay! I was just wondering because you really wouldn't imagine the Phantom of the Opera would really have a hammock in their….how should I describe it? A lair I guess you'd say." Raoul continued nervously, trying to extract some type of non-frightening piece of conversation from Erik.
"One more word, monsieur, and I shall drown you in the lake and tell Christine it was an accident. She would believe me. I think." Erik threatened.
Raoul gulped. "Okay," he squeaked, knowing that Erik was perfectly capable of doing this. He fainted again.
Normally Erik would have been relieved that he had fallen asleep, but knowing the noise Raoul made, there wasn't a chance of there being peace.
Erik who had discarded the pillow previously, now reattached it, as the first of what proved to be a long series of moos, came.
Raoul awoke in the same position, seeing as he couldn't actually move, and started to undo the ropes. He soon had them undone and got up to find Erik. He found him in the kitchen(which was painted the devastating colour black), singing "Play that funky music white boy" at the top of his lungs into a poor wooden spoon while mixing a box of muffins.
"What kind?" Raoul asked loudly.
Erik jumped and put down the wooden spoon and turned off the music. "You have a bad habit of catching me at a bad time." Erik said in the most controlled voice he could manage.
"That was a good song! Why did you turn it off? If I do say so myself, I can sing it pretty well." Raoul said, expecting a compliment but then realized that he was with Erik, the greatest singer in the world.
"Oh really. Well, I could use some amusement. Sing it," Erik demanded.
"Well if you insist!" Raoul said trying to sound annoyed. Erik put it into the karaoke machine. The music started and so did Raoul.
"Play that funky music white boy! Play that funky mu-" He stopped. Erik was laughing hysterically. "What, may I ask, is so funny?" Raoul asked, irritated.
"That-!" Erik was gasping for breath he was laughing so hard. "That was HORRIBLE!" Erik started to screech with laughter now. Raoul scowled at him. "It wasn't that bad! I'll have you know that my mommy has told me how good of a singer I am." This comment succeeded to make Erik laugh harder until he was choking. Raoul slapped him on the back until Erik started to breath somewhat and Raoul had to scream at him, "Stop punching me!".
Suddenly something struck Raoul as odd and he couldn't resist asking. "Why do you have a karaoke machine?" he asked.
Erik grew serious again. "It helps me to master all types of singing. You should her me sing Aeirosmith! I rock on that song called "Dream On!".
"I'm sure you do," Raoul mumbled to himself.
"I do. Well what do you want as proof? Do you want to hear me sing it?"
Erik challenged.
"Yes monsieur, if you don't mind."
"Of course I don't mind! But wait until I finish the muffins."
"What kind?"
"Lemon-poppyseed."
"Of course."
