Chapter 4: But Who Will Sing…?

I can't believe how fast I'm actually updating this…

Featured Stereotypes: From now on, I'll trust you guys to figure it out.

Disclaimer: I own… (goes through pockets) LOOK! A nickel! And there's a beaver on it!

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Firmin was flipping channels on the T.V. in the office he shared with Andre, searching for something about the playoffs. Instead, at every channel, there was a news story about Christine being kidnapped.

"You'd think there's be at least one channel with hockey, eh?" he muttered to himself.

At that moment, Andre came in, looking appropriately pissed. "We're screwed."

Firmin looked away from the TV. "What makes you say that?"

Andre pointed to the TV, where pictures of Christine where splashed everywhere and an announcer was asking people to keep an eye out for her. "THAT!"

"But it's publicity, eh?" Firmin assured him.

"BUT SHE'S SCHEDULED TO SING OH CANADA NEXT DOOR!" Andre shouted.

"We'll find someone else." Firmin muttered, "And- allo, what's this?" he pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket.

Andre pulled out a similar sheet of paper and read aloud. "Hopefully Carlotta has a nice career in the NHL, because she will not sing in this opera house ever again. Christine was the best in show, though the children dressed as hockey states could have done better."

Firmin winced and read his own letter, "By the way, Firmin, you still owe me two thousand American dollars."

"… Why doesn't he just demand two thousand, two hundred and thirteen dollars and seventy eight Canadian dollars, eh?" Andre asked.

Before Firmin could answer, Raoul ran into the room, screaming at the top of his lungs, "OH MY GOD CHRISTINE IS GONE AND SHE DOESN'T REMEMBER ME!"

The managers stared at him, blinking their eyes in something akin to astonishment.

"DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT A TRADGETY THIS IS?" The fop screamed.

"That she's been kidnapped…?" Andre asked.

"NO, THAT SHE DOESN'T REMEMBER ME!"

There was a deafening silence between the three men, interrupted only by the sound of a beaver (guess who's pet beaver) chewing the lags off of the desk behind them.

"And you sent me this note, didn't you?" Raoul growled. "You think it's funny, eh? WELL, IT'S NOT!"

Firmin snatched the paper from the raving lunatic's hands and scanned quickly over the text. "Dear Raoul: I, the Phantom, have Christine. If you try to take her from me, I will piss on your igloo and turn it yellow."

Raoul made a whimpering noise. "I hate yellow."

Andre rolled his eyes. "Well, we didn't write you that letter."

"WHAT'S THE BIG IDEA, EH?"

Before you could say, "don't eat the yellow snow", Carlotta had arrived, fully made up in all her goalie gear. With all of that protective padding all over her, it looked like she had gained about two hundred pounds.

"WHO SENT ME THIS LETTER?" She demanded, thrusting the paper in Andre's face.

"What happened to the Olympics…?" Andre asked.

Carlotta glared at him. "They had the audacity to tell me to join the women's team. IT'S AN OUTRAGE!" She screamed, and then turned her attention back to the matter at hand. "But, that's not what I'm here for. I'm here to talk about the letter that you sent me, eh?"

Firmin grabbed the letter and read it aloud. "Dear Carlotta: please don't come back to sing for us EVER AGAIN! Your voice reminds me of the time my beaver caught its tail in the door."

Firmin and Andre sighed and, at the same time, said, "The Ghost."

"Not that I wanted to sing anymore," Carlotta muttered, "But I find that extremely offensive, eh?" she whirled on Raoul and, wrinkling her nose, added, "Almost as offensive as I find your breath."

Raoul didn't get it, obviously, because he gave Carlotta the blankest stare that anyone had ever seen. Luckily, the event was interrupted by Sue and Meg, who came with yet another letter.

"Well," Sue sighed, "Christine's back."

"YAY!" Raoul screamed, and he began to run from the group, "I'm going to go make her remember me!"

Meg grabbed him by the collar before he could get too far. "She doesn't want to see you, fop." She muttered. "Take a hint, eh?"

Raoul made a whimpering sound.

"So… will Christine be singing?" Andre asked.

Carlotta smacked him over the head. "SEE? You did send the letter." She began to sob. "You all hate my voice!"

"That's not true!" Firmin began in a vain attempt to comfort her, "You have a… lovely voice…"

"LIES!" Carlotta screamed.

"But-"

"LIES!"

"Carlotta, please-"

"LIES!"

Everyone was silent then, staring at Carlotta as she whimpered like a hot polar bear. After a few moments, Firmin patted her back in an awkward way. "Would you… like to sing tonight?" he mumbled.

"YES!" Carlotta crushed him in a hug. "THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! I hated being a goalie. I kept getting hit by hockey pucks. I have bruises all over!" she blew her nose on his jersey. "Well, I'm off to get ready!"

Everyone left the room then, Firmin and Andre to see that Carlotta was taken care of, Raoul to fix his hair, and Sue to help Christine get ready. Only Meg was left, and she stood over the Manager's desk, glancing over all of the letters.

"This," she muttered, "Is bound to end badly…"

-

Carlotta sang Oh Canada (the Canadian national anthem, just in case some people don't know that) at the hockey game, much to the chagrin to everyone else within a two-mile radius. Everyone else working for the opera got free tickets, though, which was nice.

Nothing bad happened until the first period was over, and Timbits came skating onto the ice (Timbits are actually a doughnut you can but at Tim Hortons, but now hockey teams with players that are 5 and under are called Timbits, so… yeah. They usually play little games for all the fans at half time, even though most of them can't skate. It's cute to watch.). Carlotta was to announce the goals and whatnot and she stood to one end of the rink, shouting out the player's numbers as people scored goals.

"Awww, they're so cute, eh!" Christine shrieked, clapping her hands.

"I know!" Meg shouted.

As everyone watched, though, the lights suddenly went out. Timbits screamed in fright and skated blindly off of the ice and into their mother's arms. When the ice was completely bare of children, a single spotlight went to a man standing on the light up scoreboard.

A man wearing a Philadelphia Phantoms jersey and half of an old goalie mask.

"I told you," he shouted in a sexy, booming voice, "That Christine was supposed to be singing from now on!"

"OH MY GOD!" Christine shouted, "IT'S HIM!"

"SHUT UP, YOU LITTLE WENCH!" Carlotta screamed back.

The Phantom was about to do something extremely clever when something started to chew on the wires connected to the scoreboard. The light went to it, and everyone could see a little beaver with a half mask matching that of his owners. Everyone "oh-ed" and "ah-ed", but no one noticed when the wires started to spark until there was a huge explosion. The beaver went flying through the air and fell onto Christine's lap, while the scoreboard fell from the ceiling and smashed through the ice.

"NO!" Christine shouted, standing and holding the squirming beaver in her arms. As the smoke cleared, she searched for the body of the strange man who had shared his home and his poutine with her. But, she had a startling discovery to make when the air had cleared entirely, and…

The man was gone.

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Alright, I trust you know the drill. Review for me. And, whoever reviews first gets either… (Looks through pockets again) a toonie and a loonie, or poutine!