Disclaimer: I don't own POTO.

A/N: The wardrobe flew open and out blew Misty Breyer, silver cloak billowing behind her. The Gerry started from his nap on a lumpy red couch. Stale gold fishes and lint-speckled gummy worms scattered to the floor as he staggered to his feet.

"You're getting fat," Misty observed coolly.

The Gerry blinked at her, trying to bring his eyes into focus. He subconsciously covered his developing beer belly with his black silk robe.

"Where the hell have you been?" he growled.

"Up to my neck in life, school, work, boyfriend…not that I mind that part."

The Gerry blinked again. "You have a boyfriend?"

A blushing Misty giggled, "Yes."

"Wonderful."

"Hey, I'm sure plenty of the minions will be lined up to have you."

The Gerry shuddered.

Misty poked around her dusty desk, gingerly pulling out the massive stack of reviews crammed into her mailbox. She flipped through them.

"I see I've been missed," she muttered.

"Phantom Companions is over a year old now," the Gerry informed her.

Misty glanced at her calendar. "So it is. Imagine that." Just then Captain Marianne appeared in the doorway of the den.

"OMG! Where have you been?" the Captain shrieked. She flew at the Authoress and enveloped her in a massive hug. After nearly strangling the Authoress, Captain Marianne stepped back and said: "You haven't written anything in months!"

Misty wigged out.

"I'VE BEEN WRITING MY GUTS OUT!"

Captain Marianne squeaked and ran behind the Gerry.

Misty ranted on, "Do you know how difficult it is to churn out just one third of a screenplay? Well, it's hard."

The Gerry calmly wiped spit from his mask and replied, "Well, then I suppose we can expect your talents to have improved."

Misty glared at her muse, plopped down in her swivel chair, and got to work on a blipic….

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

BUT FIRST! It would behoove me to tell you about the notice that later appeared on the bulletin board of Minion HQ.

The notice read as follows:

Dear Minions and Readers,

My sincerest apologies for the long hiatus, but rest assured that I am not dead. I am simply swamped with life. New school, more homework, new friends, and the lot; I'm sure you will all understand.

After debating with myself for some time, I have decided that it would be good for me to finish what I've started here with Phantom Companions. However, I will not be able to work on it until school lets out. So it will be another month or so before the installments start popping up again.

Also, I have decided to cut out any major integration of minions. I lost the list when I switched computers and I don't have the time to redo it. It's more than I can handle. Terribly sorry, but such is life, still we love it. Therefore, I shall be placing a halt on any further sign ups. That means no more minion applications!

Thank you so much for your patience. And now here is a brief blipic, inspired by Marianne Brandon.

Your obedient servant,

M.B.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

THE STRANGER

In the Batcave…

Erik left the master bedroom headed for the surface for his usual pre-dawn amble through the streets of Paris. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a strange man standing in the sitting room.

If possible, the stranger looked more out of place in the beautiful, pink room than Erik did in his traditional black suit. The stranger wore a filthy black trench coat and a tattered fedora. His hair was stringy and his face scruffy. And his person was decorated with various weapons, all of an especially violent nature.

Erik jumped back in surprise. He was so surprised that he forgot to Punjab the stranger on the spot.

"Who the hell are you?" Erik snarled.

The intruder didn't answer. He stood a moment, sizing Erik up. Finally, he spoke in a deep, gravely voice.

"Are you the Phantom of the Opera?"

"Yes, what do you want?"

"To kill you."

Erik's sunken eyes bulged. He barely had time to utter a shocked "What!" when the stranger flew at him, wielding a blaring buzz saw. Without thinking, Erik screamed and ran in back into the master bedroom.

He had just slammed the door and locked it when the robed cousins assaulted him. They stared up at him with wide eyes, their hair bedraggled.

"Erik, what's happening?" Anna asked.

"It sounds like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre out there!" Brooke exclaimed.

Just then the buzz saw rammed through the wall next to Erik's head. The girls shrieked. Erik grabbed their flailing wrists and shot across the room to the hidden door, which led to the Louis-Phillipe room. The Louis-Phillipe room provided temporary sanctuary. Anna and Brooke huddled close to Erik.

"Who was that?" Anna wailed.

"I don't know. I just walked out the door and there he was. I demanded to know who he was and what he wanted, but all he said was the he wanted to kill me. Then he made good on his threat," Erik explained in a shaky voice.

That was what frightened the girls most of all: the quiver in Erik's normally calm, steady voice. In all circumstances, no matter how harrowing, Erik always managed to maintain a veneer of absolute control, if not of the circumstances themselves, then at least of himself. Now he was shaking like a leaf.

That's when the temporary part of their safety came into play. In one moment, the stranger had demolished the door and charged into the room, buzz saws screaming. He stopped short when he saw the trembling girls clinging to the Phantom. Anna gasped. She recognized him at once.

"Holy crap! It's Van Helsing!" she exclaimed. The stranger halted and turned off the buzz saw. He glared at Anna as though trying to read her mind.

Brooke peered at the stranger. "OMG, you're right, Anna. Ugh, he reeks like a Parisian sewage line."

Erik stared at the girls, though keeping Van Helsing (for that is who it was) in his peripheral vision. "How do you know him?"

"He's a monster hunter."

"From a movie."

"Except in the book, he's an old man."

"In the movie he's…" Brooke stopped. She slapped a palm to her forehead and moaned, "He can't really be Gabriel, can he?"

"The angel?" Anna gasped.

Erik glanced over the stunned stranger. If he had had a nose he would have wrinkled it in disgust as he said, "If that's an angel, I'd hate to see what a demon looks like."

Brooke quirked an eyebrow at Van Helsing. "I still say he stole that look from Aragorn."

Erik nodded, "I can definitely see the influence."

Anna added, "Good thing you can't smell it, too."

At last Van Helsing spoke for himself, or rather to himself. "They said nothing about any damsels other than the soprano."

"What was that?" Erik snapped.

Van Helsing ignored him and addressed the cousins, "Don't be afraid. I've come to rescue you from this monster."

Anna bristled, "He isn't a monster!"

"Well, he's on my list. That makes him a monster." Van Helsing reached into a pocket and produced a grimy parchment roll. He held it out for Anna and Brooke to see. They snatched it up and read the following (in very poor handwriting):

Mr. Hyde

Dracula

Frankenstein : )

Werewolf

Phantom of the Opera

Creature from the Black Lagoon

The Blob

Shrek

"You can't kill Shrek!" Anna shrieked, her shrill voice nearly shattering any glass in the room.

"He's an ogre isn't he?" Van Helsing said.

"But he's a cool ogre!" Anna argued. Meanwhile, Brooke had found a pen and was scribbling away like mad on the parchment.

"Stop that!" Van Helsing shouted. He lunged towards her, but she jumped out of the way.

"You forgot a few people. Just helping you out. See?"

She held out the updated list:

Mr. Hyde

Dracula

Frankenstein : )

Werewolf

Phantom of the Opera ; )

Creature from the Black Lagoon

The Blob

Shrek ; )

Son of Dracula

Bride of Frankenstein

Darth Vader

Darth Maul

Lord Voldemort

Anna grabbed the list. She giggled and handed it over to Van Helsing. His eyes bulged.

"Since when does Dracula have a son?"

"Since Universal started making sequels."

"And I can't kill Frank's bride."

"Why not?"

"Because…"

"Because you made an exception for him?"

"Yes."

"Well, then you can make an exception for Erik."

"Who is Erik?"

The girls pointed to Erik who stood behind them, confused, wary, and amused all at once.

"I have no record of his having a name," Van Helsing declared.

"Then you must mean the Lloyd Webber version. Better luck next time," Brooke quipped. She pushed Van Helsing toward the door. All at once the monster hunter grabbed her, shoved her behind him, then reached for Anna. The redhead screamed bloody murder.

"This is for your own good," Van Helsing roared. "Can't you see he's brain-washed you?"

Anna put up quite a fight, but not for long. No sooner had Van Helsing began to win the game of tug-o-war when Erik fairly ripped Anna from his grasp.

The Phantom's blue eyes burned with rage. His magnificent voice echoed through the room like thunder, "DO NOT TOUCH HER!"

And that's when stuff hit the fan.

Van Helsing whipped out a pistol, which looked more like a fancy hair dryer, and fired a shot at Erik. The bullet grazed the Phantom's left shoulder. Erik shouted in pain, clutching his wound. Anna screamed. She gathered her senses in time to catch Erik as he staggered backwards.

Brooke did what she did best: she became violent. She whacked Van Helsing upside the head with one of Christine's high-heeled slippers. Then she threw Ayesha at him. The cat spat and clawed the scruffy man's face to shreds. Van Helsing's screeches reached volume levels that Christine's singing couldn't reach on a good day.

While Van Helsing jerked about like a schizophrenic chicken Erik got back on his feet. He drew his Punjab lasso out of his pocket. The little string of cat's gut snaked through the air and wrapped around Van Helsing's dirty neck. Ayesha abandoned ship. Erik tightened his grip. Van Helsing fell to his knees, gagging and gasping.

"You barbarian," Van Helsing wheezed at Erik. "You attack a defenseless opponent?"

"I'd hardly call you defenseless, dear sir," Erik said.

"You're a…monster."

Erik shrugged one gaunt shoulder. "That's not much incentive for me to fight fair, now is it?"

The Phantom pulled harder. Beneath a permanent five o'clock shadow, Van Helsing began to turn a sickly shade of blue. Anna felt that this was all a bit much and she gently pried Erik's fingers away from the lasso. Van Helsing collapsed, his thick chest heaving as he sucked in precious oxygen.

"ARE YOU CRAZY?" Erik and Brooke both shouted at Anna.

She shook her red head. "No, I just think there is a better way to go about this." From behind her, she magically produced the Poppins Bag. "Bag, could we have a porthole?"

To where?

Anna whispered to the Bag.

Heheh...that's a good one. Here you go.

Anna reached into the Bag and withdrew what looked like a circular piece of black cloth. She stuck the cloth as far up on a wall as she could and then stretched the black cloth till it touched the carpet. It created a porthole just big enough for a man of Van Helsing's size to walk through. Or to be tossed through, which is actually what happened.

"Well, I'm glad that's over," Brooke said. "Brilliant idea, Anna."

"Thank you. Erik, let's go to the lab and get you fixed up." She spoke as she dismantled the porthole.

Erik reluctantly followed her. Brooke tagged along.

"Can we go haunting after this?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

On the other side of the porthole…

Van Helsing found himself sitting in the middle of Minion HQ. Normally, most of the minions would have been thrilled to see him, but, as he had just shot Erik, they were a few leers short of hospitable. But they weren't going to kill him…not yet anyway.