Thank you, all of my reviewers!
Erik for President, thanks for the Spongebob suggestion! I will definitely think about it!
As for putting readers into this fic, I was thinking of doing an Erik vs. The Reviewers chapter later on.
I will let all of you know if I am going to do it and when in the near future.
Oh, I have a reference to Angel of the Opera, Sherlock Holmes Meets the Phantom of the Opera in here. Sherlock uses dog collars to foil Erik's Punjab traps.
Stiff leather around neck equals no suffocation because lasso cannot catch windpipe.
That is a really good (and useful) book. It is like an extension of the Leroux version with a fanfiction ending. If you can get your hands on a copy I suggest you read it.
It definitely plays up Erik as the angsty man of Everyone's dreams.
And it makes Raoul look like a sissy, too.
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.
Round Two: Taking Up ArmsLetting out a small gasp, Erik came to, staring groggily at his surroundings.
He shuddered and muttered hoarsely,
"Tunnel…white light…Carlotta in white light…ugh…"
He feebly turned his head to the side and let out a groan.
"Must have been hell."
His head lolled back to its former position and he closed his eyes because with that faint movement the room had started to spin painfully.
He laid there for what seemed like hours until, vaguely, he realized that someone was playing Don Juan Triumphant on his piano.
Badly.
The awful sound was enough motivation for the Phantom to drag himself to the nearby couch and try to stick his head underneath it.
When that plan failed he scooted himself up against its leather and wood side and strained to catch a glimpse of the offending musician.
His vision swimming in and out and his breath coming in ragged gasps from the exertion, he was able to glimpse a black clad figure perched upon the piano bench swaying nauseatingly to and fro with the music.
Unable to gather enough strength to stand he sat there quietly, trying to block out as much of the awful sounding noise as he could.
Hours went by and the "imposter", as Erik had remembered him, had not stopped playing.
He had gone fully through Erik's repertoire of songs and had moved on to other classical pieces
The Phantom was strong enough now to move if he had to and, seeing as how he had remembered that the figure at the piano had a death wish on him, decided to make for the kitchen.
Upon entering the room, he looked for any object that could aid him in his second ago (that is after the song, Masquerade) planned attack on the "imposter".
Pulling kitchen knives from their holders and eggbeaters, forks, spoons, corkscrews, and a random hack saw from the drawers and stuffing them into various pockets and also down into his pants, he crossed the kitchen and proceeded into the hallway.
The door to the parlor was ajar and the flowing melody of 'Moonlight Sonata' came floating through.
"What kind of…thing…is he?"
The Phantom stared at the sliver of light cutting across the carpet from the crack in the door.
"He cannot play any of my music whatsoever, but he can play every single other goddamn song perfectly."
He sneered disgustedly and headed for his bedroom.
Thank God he did not touch my organ.
I would have had to cut off his hands for that, besides brutally murdering him.
And I probably would have had to take it apart and scrub it all down, to get the stink off.
He entered the room, locked the door, and headed for his closet.
Pulling out a stiff leather dog collar from a bottom shelf and various pieces of clothing, he dumped them in the coffin and started to quickly shed his clothing.
(Too bad, my dear readers, that this is a T rated fic, or else I would have included a striptease right here :))
(Heh, heh, heh. Just kidding!)
(But it is seriously tempting.)
He threw everything but the pants onto the floor and, noticing that the lasso was still around his neck, threw that into the coffin, too.
He then donned his new outfit and fitted the dog collar around his neck, tightening it so that if he was lassoed again he would not be strangled a second time.
Walking up to a mirror, he eyed his reflection, and deemed the image perfect for his planned revenge.
The only things that he needed were his tools and a mask and he would be practically invisible.
He went back to the coffin and emptied the items in his pants into his pockets and a small drawstring bag that he tied to his lasso.
He cinched the lasso around his waist and headed for a chest next to the mirror.
Flipping open the lid, he grabbed smokescreen pellets, snapdragons, a reed, chloroform, a cloth, and a shiny, black leather whip.
Stuffing these items into other various pockets he rose and swiftly crossed the room, unlocked the door, and slipped quietly and determinedly out into the hall.
The music had stopped.
He poked his head into the parlor and found that the "imposter" had fallen asleep at the piano, head resting on the keys and arms hanging down at his sides.
The Phantom approached and took out the chloroform and the cloth.
Hesitating for only a second as the aura of cuteness from Gerry's sleeping form washed over him, he gently placed the cloth over his mouth and nose and held it there until he felt the sleeper relax even more.
He then hefted the knocked out and slightly snoring Gerry over his shoulder and toted him out of the parlor and then out of his house.
WINNER: Wait and see
LOSER: Undecided (Although is does look bad for Gerry, doesn't it?)
Can anyone guess what Erik's outfit is?
