Disclaimer: I own Erik.
Alright my little buddies, how are you doing today? I am fine, except for the fact I have laryngitis (And strep. Yay me), and I cannot speak. At all. When I do, I sound worse then froggy Carlotta.
This is going to be a very special phic. This is going to be a collection of BTR bonus stories, so I can go ahead and scratch off all the questions on my list that I can't make into really long stories!
I must apologize, though. Thanks to Kloolk, I finally realize that I've been spelling Mrs. Gerard Butler's name wrong. It isn't Gerald, as I thought before. It is Gerard. I am a turnip brain, so please forgive me.
Uhh…I wrote a new oneshot parody?
Uhhh…I wrote a new parody with Supergirrl?
And now I thank reviewers.
PhantomoftheBasket: I am mucho happy that I made you happy. My point in life is to make people happy.
Gerikslover: Ha. You make all the fans jealous. DEATH TO CHANNEL ONE!! DEATH TO MEKA NICHOLES AND CALI SOMETHING!!
Moriko Csove Doyle: I have the uncanny ability to get my fangirls (Ha! I have fangirls! xD) cameo's pretty close to the real thing.
Ooooh, new question, added to the list! Maybe it'll be in today's thingy.
Pawfoot: You seem like the klutzy one. ;3 Just kidding!
Mrs. Gerard Butler: Awww, poor Meggy! And you no longer like Erik? Does that mean you're joining the great and powerful .3 Anti-Phans, death to Erik?!
LostBluePhantom: Blue…that was the nickname my other friend had…oh well, it's a fun name! Alright Blue (Wow that's going to freak me out for a while), that is your new name!
Did you enjoy yelling at Erik? I hoped you would. And I love all three questions, they're going on the list!
Supergirrl: Yes, yes, I know I'm funny. I'm amazing. xD Just kidding guys! I'm not bragging!
Bad Dominique! –Whacks- Be a good girl! You have to learn to be nice if your going to be dealing with new writers!
Angel of Music lover: I don't mind if you're a phangirl. As long as you don't put me on your hitlist.
Did you know I'm on a bunch of phangirls hitlists?
Awwww, thank you for loving the story! Your question is going on the list.
Songstressgirl07: You're not leaving! None of you are! Don't worry.
Oh, nice about the love triangle thing. My class used to say that Cali and the loser guy that was there last year but left (or died) would make-out as soon as the camera turned off.
Serey: Chocolate ice-cream's sweet.
FemmeLoki: Ha! When you write this, you just have the automatic assumption that all the phangirls are under 18.
Oohh, you want your whip back? Here, I'll give it back during the story. And I'll work on the autograph thing.
Nanotech: Ha! Don't die! I'd be sad. And nice on the corset thing; I've sure they suck.
Luckii.Jinx: Aww, I'm sorry! Don't soil yourself! xD
Aright. Writing, writing! This is going to be a very long chapter.
0o0o0o0o
"Come on people, this is a very special chapter!" Rose yelled, scampering around the conducting pit. She glanced up at the closed curtains, and heard nervous pacing behind it and quiet talking.
"Phangirls! Curtain rise in three, get into your order and get your questions ready!"
Meg, who was helping the three Anti-Phans get everything together (Madame Giry was backstage with the phangirls) shot a look to Veng, who nodded.
"Shrimpett, calm down. This is just like any other chapter!"
"No it isn't!" she cried shrilly. "This is a different kind of chapter. What if people hate it? What if they flame? What if no one wants to read the stories anymore?"
Veng, for the sake of everyone in here, beckoned to Insane. Insane smacked Rose with the mallet.
"You have 154 reviews, Rose. Calm down."
Meg was just staring at them. Is this what my mother always has to go through?
There was the sound of a cane smacking something hollow (probably a phangirl's head), and Rose looked up again.
"Why does Ms. Giry even, like, have the cane? She's not a cripple," Insane asked Meg.
"She uses it to keep time with the music, and to discipline ballet brats. She doesn't actually need it."
Rose was currently playing with the conductor's baton, then the monkey clapper next to her started chiming to the masquerade song.
"You stole Erik's monkey?" Veng asked quietly.
Rose ignored her friend, clicking the baton against the bottom of the stage. "Question number one, come on!"
The curtains pulled apart, and the first phangirl pranced onto stage. Two of the anti-phans and Meg burst out laughing.
"I hate you," Angel of Music Lover hissed down to the Authoress. She adjusted the frilly ballerina outfit she was wearing (Long pale-blue tutu with matching ribbon tied in her hair), and stood posed like a dancer for Swan Lake. After growling to the new conductor, she straightened up and smiled to the non-existent audience (which would also be the readers).
"Hello! My name is Angel of Music Lover, but you can just call me Angel. I am hosting this question due from random selection. Our little mini question is…. If Meg is Christine's BFF, how come they're barely in any scene together? Forbidden Questions Inc. would like to apologize for the fact this is a mini question. Thank you, and enjoy." Angel bowed deeply, receiving applause from the three Anti-Phans and a reassuring grin from Meg. The curtains closed again, and the mini question began.
----
Meg Giry sat on the edge of the bank, crossing her legs and resting her feet in the water. They were bleeding just a tiny bit. Madame Giry was a very cruel instructor.
"Tell me, Monsieur….why am I here again?" she turned her head slightly, glancing back at the phantom who was currently playing the organ. He was scribbling onto a music sheet.
"Hmm?"
"Why do you keep me down here? I mean, every scene where neither of us are in it, I'm stuck down here. Can I have an explanation?"
"Your mother doesn't trust you," he replied quiet simply, shifting his papers around to check his Death To The Fop plan. Meg didn't exactly take it as easy.
"She what!?"
Erik tried waving her exclamation off, going back to writing his song. But without warning, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he slowly turned around.
Meg was standing about an inch behind his organ bench, arms crossed and glaring at him.
The sheer shock of her moving so quickly made Erik let out a yell, and he toppled backwards off his bench, nearly hitting Meg.
"I scared you?" she asked suspiciously. He glared at her.
"Ghosts make more noise then you."
Meg ignored him, rolling her eyes. "Now, what were you saying about my ma not trusting me?"
"Uhhh, nothing."
The ballet brat didn't take this as an answer. Very quickly, she moved to the side of the bench and tipped it over with one foot. Erik let out a very satisfying yelp as the bench fell on him. She put one foot on top of the bench, keeping it down.
"Answer the question."
"I…thought…you…were….some….little….harmless…ballet…girl!" Erik choked out, lacking oxygen. Meg pressed down on the bench harder.
"Answer the question."
Erik took a few gasps of air until the uncovered part of his face turned as blue as Angel's tutu. It was then that Meg realized if she'd continue, she'd kill him.
But also, you must remember, I really don't like Erik.
"Don't you event think about it, Rose!"
Meg, and the suffocating Erik looked up towards the ceiling as it opened and Angel slowly floated down, frowning.
"I'm the narrator of this question, and I can't let the Authoress kill Erik. Meg, please step off the bench so he may answer your demand."
Meg seemed unhappy as she removed her foot from the bench. Erik's face went back down to it's normal shade, and Angel seemed happy. She vanished again.
"So, what were we talking about?" Erik mumbled quietly, pushing the bench off of him and setting it back down.
"I was trying to kill you because you wouldn't tell me why my Ma doesn't trust me."
"Oh, yeah, that's right."
Erik was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then he remembered.
"She expects you to run off with some skank."
Meg's jaw dropped, and she just stared at him.
"She what?"
"Well, first of all, have you even seen what you wear? I mean, the only thing that looked mildly innocent was that white dress you wore when you sang your song. But all your other costumes; really! That Hannibal costume? And the Don Juan? And shall we bring up your flashy Masquerade? Plus the actor that plays you is like, a porn star."
Meg was horribly ashamed of herself, and instantly began blaming Antonio for designing her costumes.
"Wow. I never knew that I looked so slut- hey, what's that?" She pointed towards a giant vat of bubbling black liquid, hidden by a bunch of candles. Erik turned his head.
"Oh. That's my tar. After waxing my toupee, I dunk it in there. How else do you expect it to get so black?"
Meg was severely disturbed.
----
Rose snickered, ignoring the large bump on her head where Angel hit her with a shoe for trying, once again, to kill Erik. She quickly scribbled both the car-wash theory and the mini question off her list, then went straight to the next one.
Tapping the baton against the stage, she yelled for the next phangirl.
The curtains opened again, and a very, very, very furious-looking FemmeLoki stood in a hot pink tutu with matching ribbon, looking down at Rose with an expression that simply stated: I'm going to kill you when you're sleeping.
"My name is FemmeLoki, and due to random selection, I will be hosting the next mini question. It's actually four: Why is Raoul hanging in front of Christine's door when she goes to the graveyard, how does Erik play the organ in the lair without anyone noticing, why does everyone portray Raoul as a fop, and how does Meg get her pants magically dry in that last lake scene. Thank you." The phangirl bowed, and the curtains closed once more.
---
It was not a good day for the PotO males. Well, it wasn't a good day for Erik and Raoul.
Erik had been victim to countless phangirl attacks, including an all-out dogpile, Luckii.Jinx trying to take his mask, and Songstress attempting to rip his cape off his shoulders and hug it.
And then, of course, there were the Anti-Phans and Authoress, doing absolutely nothing to help him.
Raoul, on the other hand, had been more tormented. The phangirls had dumped a strawberry milkshake on him, then glued him to the seat outside the ballet girl room, then dumped pink streamers, then dyed feathers, and wrote the word 'FOP' across his forehead.
It was going to take a lot of make-up from those movie people to hide it for the next scene, when Christine went to the graveyard.
"This sucks!" he growled, yanking off his wig (OMFG) and shaking his head, fixing his naturally blonde and short hair.
Mrs. Gerard Butler, who had been spying on Raoul, holding a tub of maple syrup, dropped her jaw.
"That…long, foppish hair of yours is fake?"
Raoul stared at her, then the ruined toupee in his hands. "Well, duh. I'm not actually some gay wimp that only gets his butt kicked by the Phantom. Actually, I win in the upcoming Graveyard scene."
Mrs. Gerard Butler passed out from shock of Raoul not actually being a true fop.
Erik, who was down in his lair, let out a loud scream of fury. His lair had been ransacked, and a lot of his possessions had been taken.
"Darn those phangirls," he snarled, plopping down on his piano bench. He began belting out his feelings of raw hatred, but he noticed something very quickly.
His organ was nearly silent.
Lifting his head slowly, he noticed that the upper parts of the organ pipes had been bent. Scratched into the three middle pipes were the initials 'R, I, V'.
He slammed his fists into the keys (which made little sound), and screamed again.
"Having an off day, Ghosty?"
Erik turned slowly to see a smirking Veng, twirling a small dagger on her pinkie. Sitting next to her in the thin air were Rose and Insane.
The Phantom of the Opera, having had the last straw snapped, pulled out his Punjab and advanced on the three of them. Insane just grinned harder, nudging Rose.
The Authoress took out her pencil and Erik froze. She quickly scribbled something, and he heard electricty crackle behind him.
"Why don't you just…take a seat," Veng said smoothly, and Rose continued writing. Erik abruptly went into the air, and he turned his head to see the electric chair behind him.
But before the three Anti-Phans could enjoy watching the Opera Ghost fry…
"DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!"
FemmeLoki came out of no where and tackled the three AP out of the air. There was a rather violent struggle between her and the Authoress, but FemmeLoki finally managed to wrestle Rose's precious pencil away from her.
She stood and backed up rapidly, holding the pencil with both hands, poised to snap it.
Rose, of course, looked horrified.
"Don't. Do it," she said slowly, taking a step towards the phangirl. FemmeLoki's grip tightened.
"What happens if I break this pencil in two? Will the world collapse?"
Rose shook her head, ignoring the loud argument between Insane, Veng, and Erik in the background.
"No! We aren't going to help you win Christine! You lose! Deal with it, you stupid 35-year-old man!"
"I just lose all my power over the PotO cast, and you guys," Rose admitted slowly. FemmeLoki smirked, her grip becoming so taut that the pencil cracked a little. Rose paled.
"I'll give you anything you want; just give the pencil back."
FemmeLoki thought about it. Then she looked back at Erik, who was currently trying to kill the two Anti-Phans via candle nun-chucks.
"I want my whip back. And I want it signed. By Erik. With love."
Rose considered the possibility of this happening. But then again, she liked it when odds were against her.
"Alright. Just stop straining my pencil."
The phangirl obeyed, and the Authoress slowly turned around and looked over at Erik.
"Hey stupid!"
Erik, Insane, and Veng all looked over at Rose. She blinked.
"The tall one."
Insane looked away.
"The tall male one."
Veng looked away, and Erik seemed curious.
"You remember FemmeLoki, right?" She gestured behind her to the phangirl who at the moment, was staring at the pencil. Then she wrote something, and a giant chicken fell on Insane.
Erik nodded. "Didn't she lead a cuddling plot against me?"
"Uh…if I say yes, will you be mad?"
"Yes."
"Then no. She didn't. Anyway, you stole her whip a chapter back. I need it back."
The Opera Ghost blinked a few times (at least I think he blinked. He might be crying because I'm taking the whip away.) and pulled a punjab out of his cape pocket.
Rose seemed annoyed. FemmeLoki, who was still scribbling intensely, created a small army of walking Snicker-Doodles, which were currently trying to maul Insane and Veng.
The Authoress ignored them, of course.
"Not a punjab. Her whip."
"It is her whip, you insolent fool," Erik snapped, losing his patience.
"Fine. Just sign it."
Erik rolled his eyes (at least we think), and pulled his pen out of his other pocket, then scribbled a small message to FemmeLoki.
"Happy, you ignorant child?"
Feeling a song coming on, Rose just snatched the punjab away. And it was FemmeLoki's whip, just twisted every way to be turned into a Punjab. And the engraving read:
Dearest…Phangirl FemmeLoki.
I will be forever in debt to you if you kill the three Anti-Phans, and Raoul. I am apparently being forced to compliment you. Uck. Let's see…you're very pretty?
O.G.
While Rose spent seventeen minutes unraveling the whip, FemmeLoki was attacking the two Anti-Phans with mini Giry's. They started beating Insane and Veng with their canes.
"There! Finished!"
The phangirl looked up from her assault via wind-up parrots. Rose skipped over, back to her much-too-happy state of mind. She extended the whip.
"Pencil."
"Whip."
"You guys are defiantly great talkers," groaned Veng, who was currently supporting three black eyes (Don't ask), and varies bruises on her feet, before she swooned and fainted.
FemmeLoki reached out one hand, palm-up, and Rose mimicked.
But then, without any warning at all, the Authoress struck out and took her pencil, then cracked the whip. It went flashing over and knocked over a candle (And Insane. And Erik). Instantly, a giant jet of air forced its way to the surface beneath FemmeLoki. Due to the fact it was on full-power, it sent her flying.
Laughing evilly (it was very creepy), Rose tossed the whip into the air torrent, returning it to her.
"That is why you do not mess with me!"
Erik looked ticked. "Don't play with my emergency drying machine! That's how I make all my clothing dry after I rant around in the lake and stupidly release Christine!"
Rose turned to him for a second.
"Christine is your sister."
She grinned and ran off as Erik momentarily died.
-----
"Are you on crack or something?" Meg whispered down to the Authoress. She decided not to reply.
Click click click.
"Question Three, on stage!"
The curtains opened. LostBluePhantom pranced on stage wearing a lavender tutu with matching ribbon, sending death glares to the Authoress.
"Hello everyone!"
Crickets.
"My name is LostBluePhantom, but call me Blue. I am here to host the final mini question. Why do we never see Christine in regular clothes, is there a reason the managers don't do much, except freaking complain, what the heck is with that weird dancing guy with the fans in the Masquerade scene. Please enjoy!"
She bowed, and the curtains closed once more.
----
"Ma'am, you realize that having all your clothes stolen and replaced with this floozy ensemble is not a crime?" Luckii.Jinx-turned-police-woman said boredly, pretending to write down the "crime".
"My Angel has replaced my ordinary attire! You must help me!"
Jinx looked up at her, not actually paying attention. She secretly had an iPod earphone in, and was silently jamming to Wind It Up (It's stuck in my head. Forgive me!).
"Look lady, you're already an idiot for choosing the wrong guy. Don't go blaming the much-more-sexy-then-Raoul Erik for the lack of your clothing."
Christine, the ditzy soprano, was silenced by logic.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"I have a theory that the managers are robots. That's why they worked in the junk- excuse me, scrap metal industry. It allowed them to be close to their family."
Nanotech looked over Serey, who just said that.
"You're crazy, you know that?"
"You're the one sneaking around with me, trying to prove my theory wrong!" Serey retorted.
"But how does being robots explain why they complain?" Nanotech challenged.
"Their programmed to complain."
Nanotech sighed, knowing she wasn't going to get much more out of her friend (All phangirls are friends!).
"Fine then, Miss Know-It-All. We'll wait here, and see if Andre is a robot, or if he's just an annoying manager."
The two phangirls were silent as they lay on their stomachs, side-by-side, peaking out of the air vent, spying on Andre.
The old, short, and frizzy-haired Andre walked around his office, humming softly.
"I think he's just gay," Nanotech continued, but she was shhed by Serey.
After two hours of lying in a stuffy air vent, and being half-asleep, Nanotech grew bored.
"Let's just leave. Apparently he just likes complaining."
Serey nodded, rubbing her eyes. They were about to crawl backwards out of there when suddenly there was sound.
Clink clank, whirr, reeeee.
They both immediately looked back to Andre, who suddenly stopped moving and was hunched over. Firmin poked his head in.
"Darn. Forgot to wind him up."
He walked over and wound up the giant key on Andre's back while the two phangirls stared with open jaws.
"How did we miss that giant key?"
"Don't ask."
Both of them, completely scarred for life, crawled backwards, promising to tell what they saw to no one.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"What's with him?" Pawfoot whispered to Brita, who shrugged. The two phangirls were in the Masquerade, Pawfoot dressed as a red fox, and Brita dressed as an Arabian.
The two phangirls watched Masquerade Dancer #5 spin around on the center of the stairs, dancing complicatedly.
"Should we ask someone?" Brita mumbled to Pawfoot quietly, scanning the room for someone to ask.
"Well, we have two choices," Pawfoot said suddenly. The other girl looked at her.
"Who?"
"Well, we could ask them," Pawfoot pointed over to one group of Masquerade-ers. It consisted of Supergirrl, Kloolk, Rose, Veng, and Insane.
"Or we ask Carlotta."
Brita seemed repulsed at the idea of asking Carlotta for help. Two two walked over to the cheerfully-talking group of non-PotO cast.
"And then, of course, I heard that the poor thing fainted from shock. Who knew that Raoul had a toupee?" Supergirrl laughed, supporting a wine glass filled with sparkling grape juice. None of them were allowed alcoholic beverages, for obvious reasons. She was dressed as a humming bird, complete with wings.
"I know! That poor Mrs. Gerard Butler. But then again, she shouldn't have been spying on Raoul. It could have been much worse," Kloolk smiled, her costume being a slim white feline.
"Like catching Raoul having a mirror-make-out session?" Rose offered, getting receiving laughter from the rest of the group. She and her two friends were dressed as a lion (Veng), a lamb (Insane), and a mouse (Rose.)
"Eww. Dude, I would be, like, totally scarred for life," Insane said, and Veng nodded, eyeing her drink.
"I don't think you should drink that, In. You're already much too hyper."
"Excuse me!"
The group of five turned to see the two phangirls. They all smiled.
"Hey Brita/Pawfoot!" they all chimed happily.
"Hey," Pawfoot responded, then pointed up towards the dancing man. "We were wondering who that was."
"It's Erik."
Everyone stared towards Veng, who raised her eyebrow.
"What? It's so obvious that it's Erik, who, while trying to remain secretive, decided it would be smart to dance around doing the old-timed Robot."
There were no other comments.
------
Down in the conductor bit, Songstress was grinning evilly, holding the stolen baton. She leapt onto the stage and turned to face the audience.
"We had a lot of fun today. But we decided that since us phangirls had to suffer, we decided to end the chapter with some festive singing to get us in the mood for the Christmas spirit. Please enjoy the singing styles of the three Anti-Phans and Phangirls!"
Songstress bowed and quickly snuck into the curtain before it opened, revealing three very uncomfortable females in silver tutus.
Behind them were all the phangirls.
Then the Anti-Phans began singing, with Mme. Giry on the piano.
(To the tune of Deck The Halls)
"Deck the lair with gas-o-line!"
The phangirls in the back did the background music. "Fa-la-la-la-laaa, la-la-la-la!"
"Light- a candle and watch it gleeaamm!"
"Fa-la-la-la-laaa, la-la-la-la!"
"Burn, the Opera House down to ash-es!"
"Fa-la-la-la-laaa, la-la-la-la!"
"Aren't- you glad you played, with, match-es!"
"FA-LA-LA-LA-LAAAA, LA-LA…LA…LA!
The curtains closed, and the chapter ended.
0o0o0o0o0o
A/N: Wow. I'm crazy. I think I managed to use every single reviewer that reviewed the last chapter. And I have a lot of apologizing to do.
To the Phangirls: I am sorry if I made you out to be cruel, uncaring, or mentally insane. This, in no way, reflects the way I think of you guys.
To anyone that isn't Christian: I am sorry if my Deck The Halls song offended you. I do not mean to offend anyone, ever, so if you don't celebrate Christmas, feel free to attack me via small rabid chinchillas.
To anyone that didn't think this chapter was funny: Sorry. I was just trying to scratch off the questions I couldn't make really long, and I do admit that some of my stuff isn't exactly very kind.
Yeah. That's about it. And the random selection thing was me pulling up my e-mail, and clicking a review. If it was for the last FQ chapter, then I made you host the mini question. In no way, shape, or form, did I use favorism.
Ha. See. I'm afraid people won't like my story. That's what always goes through my mind before I write a chapter.
Did I just defend Raoul? Wow. I must be sick.
Please review, guys. I won't be able to update for a while (I've been sick since Thursday, and I have the feeling I'll have a lot of make-up work).
And reviewer number 200 gets something very, very special.
Peace,
BTR.