I am putting a little bit of a story line in these next few chapters. Just like I did for the Erik/Gerry chapters. It is all leading up to a big show down sometime in the near future (I never did say what I did with Gerry)(Heh, heh, heh.). I will put reviewers in for a chapter or two because I need people to be in the army. If any of you want to be in it, just put your appearance, personality, and a weapon in your review.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed these past few months! There has been a question of an Erik vs. Harry chapter. I might do it – I am not sure but if I have the time I will definitely do my best to come up with something.

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: A Gerry Sandwich

The Authoress ran through the tunnels blindly. Afraid of being pursued she zigzagged in and out, down and around, until finally she realized that Erik was not coming after her. Slowing down with a sigh of relief she tried to see where she was through the darkness, but realized that she had no clue as to what part of the cellar she was in.

Carefully, she navigated her way through the musty labyrinth. Following the damp wall with one hand she went up and down staircases, through a huge chamber with at least a dozen doorways, across a small manmade stream, and then finally down a particularly moldy passageway. It was there, while she was concentrating on not getting her hand stuck in any of the fungus that was on the walls, that she suddenly caught her leg on something and tripped.

Falling to the ground with an "Uf!" she laid where she fell, stunned.

Then, suddenly, something by her feet let out a low moan.

The Authoress stiffened but did not move as she tried to figure out what was behind her. After a few seconds of silence she felt something slowly creeping up her foot. It inched up to her ankle and then abruptly, without warning, it latched on and dragged her whole leg up into the air.

"Oooooooo! It's a sub-marine! Whizzz…whizzzzzzz…whump!"

Her foot hit the wall.

"Wait! You imposter! I shall kill you!"

She felt the hand let go, but before she could feel relieved a giant mound of flesh barreled into her and pinned her down.

"Argh!" she flailed around as it twisted her into a wrestling hold.

"How do you like that, Mr. Fancy Phantom, or should I say, IMPOSTER!" It lifted her into the air and flipped her around so that she was over its head.

"Gerry?" The Authoress choked out.

"I am THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA!" he snorted and then made as if to throw her.

"Wait, er…Mr. Phantom, I beg of you do not be hasty!" She grabbed onto his arms for dear life. "Put me down! Pleeeeease put me down! I swear to God I am not this 'imposter'!"

He hesitated and then,

"Alright."

She was roughly dumped onto the ground. As she flailed around, trying to keep from toppling over into the mold on the wall next to her, she bumped into something and sent it flying. Gerry gave a shout and dived for it but it was too late. She could hear glass breaking and then liquid spilling onto the stone.

"Ah, now why did you have to go and do that for?" She could her him rustling around and then with a grunt he knocked into the wall and slid down next to her. "It took me days to find that!"

The Authoress stared at where she thought he was in the darkness. Hesitantly, she questioned, "Find…what…exactly?"

Gerry emitted an agonized groan and then slurred out, "Wine! The best the kitchens had!" He motioned over to where the broken bottle was, his arm a black blur in the darkness.

"That was the last of the crate. It was mightily…deliciously…ungh…"

Gerry trailed off and slumped over onto the Authoress.

Unprepared, she almost toppled over. Quickly catching herself, she hefted him up and into a sitting position.

"God, you are heavy!"

Taking a deep, calming breath, she cautiously felt her way up to his face and then gave him a little slap, "Come on! Gerry, wake up!"

He started and then slowly straightened. "Ugh…what do you want?"

The Authoress thought fast. "Uh…do you by any chance have someplace to stay down here?"

"Yeeessss..." he purred and then made as if to slouch back down, "but I do not want to go to bed…I am too sleepy." He reached over and patted her shoulder, "You…are…so…comfy…"

The Authoress cringed as he leaned his full weight against her again. "Okay…Gerry, does this place you have down here have any…supplies…like candles…and…weapons of mass destruction?"

She felt him nod yes.

"Alright, well, can you tell me where it is?"

Compliantly he lifted his arm across them and over to the right. "Over that way. Just …keep…following…the…mold."

His arm collapsed over the Authoress and he passed out completely.

A few minutes went by. Once the Authoress was sure that Gerry was sleeping like a baby she carefully clawed her way out of his 'embrace'. Silently, she pushed herself up and took a few steps in the direction that he had pointed. Then, as she stepped down her foot knocked in to a discarded wine bottle and sent it rolling.

It banged noisily down the corridor, finally rolling to a stop somewhere in the distance. The Authoress froze, but she could already hear Gerry moving.

He craned his head towards her and desperately whispered, "Do not leave me!"

The Authoress hesitated, silently cursed her bad luck, and turned back to the drunken "Phantom".

As soon as she was in range he snatched up her hand and then tried to drag her back down next to him. The Authoress, not wanting to be part of a Gerry sandwich again, stubbornly remained standing.

"Oh, no! Gerry, you are coming with me or I am going to leave you here!" She tugged on her captured appendage.

Gerry clung tenaciously.

"Please. I am sure you have a nice, comfy bed waiting for you back…wherever your new 'lair' is."

"NO!"

He pulled again.

The Authoress held her position.

"GERRY, I MEAN IT! GET UP. RIGHT NOW!"

Taken aback at the sheer volume of her last two words, he scrambled up and stood at attention in front of her.

"That is better. Now, since I cannot see very well, would you mind being a gentleman and leading?"

Grunting in response, he moved in front of her. Realizing that Gerry still had a vice-like grip on her arm and her hand was starting to tingle uncomfortably she requested,

"Er…Gerry, would you mind letting go of my arm? You are cutting off the circulation."

"Oh."

He dropped her arm and started off.

Stumbling in the direction that he went she worriedly shouted,

"Hey! I cannot see where you are going!"

"Humph…here take this…"

He thrust the end of his cloak in front of her and she quickly grabbed it.

With Gerry leading and the Authoress clinging to his cloak, they hiked through the tunnels until finally they came upon a lighted corridor.

The Authoress stared at the armed candelabras with recognition. This looks just like the movie. Oh boy. This cannot be good.

Suddenly, Gerry turned and with a flourish whipped the cape out of her hands. He glowered at her and then swiveled around again, muttering, "Evil woman…I was comfortable back there."

Striding forward he growled over his shoulder, "I am sure you can follow me without assistance now."

The Authoress hurried after him.

They reached the end of the passageway and Gerry ducked into an alcove and then into a door that was set back into the stone wall.

Afraid of being left outside, the Authoress dashed in after him. Catching sight of the room beyond, however, she stopped dead in her tracks.

The entire chamber was made up to resemble the lair from the movie. It was slightly different, though, since there was, obviously, no lake and the furnishings were a bit more…rustic. The Authoress chalked it up to Gerry only being in the cellars for a few chapters.

The most disturbing, frightening, and downright creepy thing was that almost every surface that she could see was covered not in Christine paraphernalia, but in shiny sliver utensils.

And they were moving.

As soon as they caught sight of her they scattered like cockroaches into and under the various objects in the room.

Needless to say, the Authoress stood there, backed against the door jamb, twitching and muttering, "and the bells, bells, bells…and the jingling and the tingling of the bells, bells, bells…"

Gerry, completely ignoring the mass migration of silver around the room, dragged himself over to a mound of velvet blankets and plopped himself down on top of them. Instantly, he was asleep.

The Authoress, still frozen by the door, watched as one by one, spoons, knives, forks, and other kitchen appliances slowly crawled out of their hiding places and curiously inched towards her.

WINNER: Gerry, I guess.

LOSER: The Authoress