Hopefully you readers will like this Erik vs. Gerry chapter.
If not, then I am sorry.
Also, there might be some spelling and grammar mistakes in this due to the hurry in updating.
If you find them or something doesn't sound right will you please point it out?
Disclaimer: I take full credit for what me and my mind come up with – things such as characters, bits of exploding scenery, etc. – the rest I give due credit to Andrew Lloyd Webber, Gaston Leroux, and Susan Kay.
Erik vs. GerryLying comfortably in his coffin, the Phantom was drifting off to sleep.
Today had been a good day for him – he had managed to rig a trap door and Carlotta had fallen right into it seconds after she had walked in.
Instead of going straight through, her voluminous skirt caught on the rough wood edges of the stage and she became wedged, half in and half out, screaming her head off.
It took five stagehands to pull her out, kicking like a wild woman and hissing like a snake.
This scene was so hilarious that he went and rigged another little gift from O.G.
Andre, unassumingly walking along and eyeing the ballet rats' "tushies", received the surprise of his life when he was suddenly catapulted across the stage, landing face first on Madam Giry.
The ballet mistress gave a shout and her rats came a-scurrying to get a good view of their new topic of gossip.
The two victims hurriedly disentangled themselves, red faced and huffing, and then ran off, embarrassed, to their respective tasks.
The Phantom, observing from box five, found the outcome of his prank so funny that he actually let out a laugh.
His first real one in probably a decade.
Enlivened, he went around the opera house creating chaos merrily for the rest of the day.
Now he was back in the lair and snug as a bug in a rug lying in his coffin wrapped, cocoon-like, in various velvets to ward off the chill of the fifth cellar.
Ahh, so peaceful.
I think I shall rig some of the lamps tomorrow.
Perhaps Carlotta's dress will catch on fire.
That would be marvelous.
Yes that would be so…
That would…
So…
He awoke to the sound of someone singing in the next room.
Cautiously, he stuck his head up and propped it against the coffin's side, glaring out into the darkened room.
All that he found were his organ and scattered pieces of furniture.
He hesitated a moment, thinking over what he should do, and then rolled himself out of the coffin, landing silently.
He quickly made for the door and slipped out, slinking from wall to wall like a shadow.
Reaching the door to the parlor, he opened it quietly and looked in.
Sitting on one of the sofa, back to him, was a man dressed in black, with his hair slicked back, drinking a cup of tea.
In between sips, he was loudly belting out a Scottish tune that the Phantom had never heard before and hoped never to hear again in his lifetime.
AUCH NEIGH LASS BE
LAUDLE DAH DAH
THE BAIRN'S IN HEIL AND
THE CHICKEN'S FLEW THE COOP
LAUDLE DAH DAH DE DO
Forgetting himself in the face of such a torturous scene, Erik shouted,
"Dear God! Messieur, I beg you to stop for the sake of my sanity!"
The singing ended abruptly and the figure turned around.
As each Phantom caught sight of the other he froze, staring in horror at his shadowy counterpart.
Seconds ticked by until Gerry, from the shock, dropped his teacup and it shattered noisily on the floor.
Erik, jolted out of his position by the door, swept into the room and stood before the "imposter."
"Messieur," he hissed, "do you wish to make fun of my position by wearing that mask?"
Gerry, who was fuming at the broken teacup, ignored the irate Phantom.
"Did you hear me, you little…"
Gerry did tune in on the end of this spat out exclamation and his head snapped up in indignation.
"How rude! I my be some things, but I am certainly not little."
Erik gaped at him for a moment, proceeded to turn white, beet red, and then stuttered,
"That is not exactly what I…"
He was interrupted by Gerry, who had risen and was pointing at his face.
"What is wrong with your face?"
The Phantom, offended, snapped back,
"What is wrong with yours?"
"But…no mask…"
"It is in my bedroom."
Erik leaned in to stare at the other's countenance, trying to see what was behind the mask and also intrigued by its design.
Needless to say, this caused Gerry much distress.
"Hmm, only half a mask."
He reached out before Gerry could react and poked it.
"Well constructed."
"I beg your pardon!"
His hand was slapped away by the indignant Phantom.
"If you touch my mask again," Gerry paused dramatically and shot Erik an icy glare, "I will wring your neck."
"You…will…wring…my neck?"
Erik gave such a purely evil smile that Gerry backed up a few steps.
"I have no idea how you managed to get in, I have no idea how anyone, for that matter, manages to get in!"
He followed the fast retreating Gerry.
"But this is my house and I want you to GET OUT!"
"Bu…"
"Ant!"
"How…?"
"Zrt!"
"Wait a…"
"Nrg!"
"Who…"
"AHEM…the Phantom."
"But I am the Phantom!"
"No you are not."
"Yes I am!"
"NO, you are NOT!"
"YES I AM!"
"Prove it!"
Erik had Gerry cornered between a sofa and the wall.
Nervously, Gerry began to state his qualifications:
"I rule the opera house with threatening notes,"
"I create the music of the night,"
Erik snorted.
"And Christine Daae is the love of my life!"
"Christine Daae!" the Phantom exclaimed,
"You mean that cowardly chorus girl who resembles my mother?"
Gerry was overcome by a look of absolute adoration.
"That is the one."
"I am sorry but I am not that sadistic."
"But she has the loveliest eyes."
His counterpart raised an eyebrow.
"And the cutest little nose."
"And she sings like an angel."
Erik started to look interested.
"Perfect pitch, bell-like clarity,"
He leaned attentively towards Gerry.
"and the fiery spirit perfect for Amnita."
"Really…?"
"Wait, how do you know about Don Juan Triumphant?"
Gerry stared at him in haughty defiance and pride,
"I composed it."
Immediately upon hearing this, the lasso was whipped out.
Gerry started at the sight of the narrow loop of catgut.
"Dear God! What did I do?"
He crawled over the couch and Erik followed, rounding a coffee table and heading him off.
"Put that thing away."
"MUST…KILL…IMPOSTER!"
Erik started twirling the catgut around as if he was going to wrangle Gerry in like a prized steer.
Recognizing the danger, Gerry raised a hand to the level of his eyes and then looked for his lasso with the other.
It wasn't in his pocket.
It wasn't tied to his waist.
Where could it be?
"Looking for this?"
His lasso was dangling from Erik's free hand.
"Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh."
Gerry started panicking.
"Heh, heh, heh…heh, heh, heh."
He started running.
"DIE IMPOSTER!"
The lasso was flung just as he reached the door.
Erik, being the excellent marksman that he is, hit his target square on.
Gerry fell to the floor, hand plastered to neck, looking like a giant fishie that had just gotten hooked.
Once he hit the ground he laid there, still and silent.
Erik, realizing that the "imposter" was still alive because of the arm sticking out between his head and shoulder, stealthily crossed the room and grabbed a fire poker off of a hook on the wall then approached the sprawled out figure.
He reached out and gave his shoulder a nudge.
Not so much as a twitch came from the inert Phantom.
He moved closer and shuddered at the sight before his eyes.
Gerry's face was contorted into an evil grin that rivaled Erik's own.
His mask had fallen off and it was lying on the ground next to the couch.
Worst of all, the look in his eyes was the twin of the one from the down once more scene.
Shuddering, Erik jumped back, but it was too late.
Gerry had made his move.
Lunging forward he grabbed the retreating Phantom's cape and yanked back on it – hard.
Erik fell with a thwump right onto his face and the fire poker clattered to the floor.
Gerry, not relinquishing his hold on the Phantom's cape, crawled up on top Erik's back, yanked the lasso off of his neck, and then placed it around his stunned victim's own.
Dropping the cape, he wrapped both of his hands around the rope and started squeezing.
Erik, coming to from the lack of air, realized what was happening and started to flail around, trying to buck Gerry off.
Gerry just squeezed harder and clamped down onto the Phantom's back like a leach.
After about two minutes of excessive oxygen deprivation, the light began to fade from the helpless Phantom's eyes.
He stopped struggling and grabbed Gerry's arm, feebly clawing at the material.
Sensing triumph was near Gerry just shook him off and held his position.
The arm flopped down and Erik's lifeless body sagged to the floor.
The remaining Phantom jumped up triumphantly and nudged the body with his foot.
"Humph, I did wring your neck you imposter."
With that he turned and took a seat at the piano in the other corner of the room.
Closing his eyes he lovingly started playing the opening to Don Juan Triumphant.
WINNER: Gerry (for now)
LOSER: Erik
OH NO! I HAVE KILLED OFF MY MAIN CHARACTER! WHAT AM I TO DO!
Please, don't panic.
This thing is not over yet!
