Wow. 23 reviews…that's the most I've ever received. No seriously, go look at my other fics. Though, 2 people don't like the ph's and one person just flat out hates this fic. However, since I love you guys so much, I'm going to continue writing this thing with the ph's included.
Regencymiss: Thanks for the review. I'm glad you like it. Sorry about the ph's but majority rules.
WillowRose: You're too kind. I'm sorry that "soon" took so long.
TheLadyInBlack: I'm sorry you haven't the sense of humor that everyone else seems to have. I do agree with you, though. It is poorly written. However, if I thought I had any real talent, then I wouldn't be wasting my time with fan fiction. The Phantom of the Opera is a very tragic and sad story (the movie brought tears to my eyes and the book broke my heart), which is why I was tempted to write a parody. And dearest, allow me to direct you to the summary. It clearly states: It's based off of the 2004 version of the movie and Gaston Leroux's book Also, in the fic itself, I wrote: "Pretty good," she replied in a chipper tone, tickled pink that she got to ride a pony (which was not the same color as it was in the book!). Now, I might be wrong about the color issue, but I have read the book, dearest. Please read summaries before you go accusing people. I'm also sorry that your attempt to insult my intelligence failed.
Eveiveneg: I'm sorry it hurts your head, but majority rules. I'll try to avoid words with "f" in them.
Dark Artemis: Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
Sara: Good to hear. Sorry it took so long to update.
Renata: I wouldn't call myself talented. Demented and bored beyond reason, maybe. Did Christine have backbone? Even in the book she seemed…weak…or am I misunderstanding your backbone metaphor? Metaphors can be so tricksey.
The Critic: I'm glad you love it!
Rio: You sound so much like me. I'm sorry it took so long for me to post. Please forgive me!
Phantom'sSonge: I think maybe Dracula loaned his brides to Erik every now and then. And yes, he's all sexy, but halph-sexy started as a joke. Now I'm running with it!
Kristiana Marie: Gotta love the McNally. C'mon. You know he rocks your socks off!
Kirby Hermy: Thank you. I don't think you realize how much that means to me.
Butterflywings32: "Afro-man" was a song my friend wrote. Out of respect for her, I left the f's alone. Thank you so much. A few people are having problems with the ph's. However, because more people like the ph's, I'm keeping them.
Orion Maxwell: I'm sorry if I offended you. I really love PotO and have nothing against it (except Christine and Raoul). It was just so serious, and a friend challenged me to make it funny. This is the result of peer-pressure. (Don't give in!) All is forgiven, my dear Orion. I don't know why my story makes you look like an idiot. As you have said, you're much like out beloved Erik. You're a genius, monsieur. (By the way, I have never seen any kind of play/musical/theatre performance, so I'm a theatre virgin. But I have good news! I'll get to see PotO performed soon! The Phantom is going to take my theatre virginity. Lol)
Unbroken-candy-bar: Squeeeee in an awesome word. You wouldn't happen to be a "Nazgirl," would you?
ENTR'ACTE: Run-on sentences. Check. I will remember. Thanks.
No one's wife: Thank you so much!
Saphril's Ghost: Dahling, thank you for taking up for me, but I'm capable of fighting my own battles. I did ask for criticism after all. She's entitled to her opinion.
Artymas: Oh, goodness. You've given me an idea. Be afraid…be very afraid.
Mornel: I will try my best. I'm running low on inspiration, though. I must see PotO again! I heard it was coming out May 3. Can anyone verify that this is correct?
Nade-Naberrie: I like the name. Are you a Star Wars fan? I didn't mean to kill you! Oh, I'm forever riddled with guilt! starts clapping I do believe in fairies! I do believe in fairies!
Marianne Brandon: I don't think our dear Erik would say such things either. He's the type of guy to put it to music and use smutty metaphors.
"Christine? Are you in here?" Meg called, knocking on Christine's dressing room door. "Raoul practically had a heart attack when you didn't show up phor dinner." When she received no reply, Meg invited herselph in. "Christine, rehearsals are about to begin." But Christine was nowhere to be phound.
Meg began searching the room, but was momentarily distracted when she discovered the secret doorway. Without giving it a second thought, she stepped through and began her quest into darkness.
Suddenly, Madame Giry popped out oph nowhere again and pulled her daughter through yet another secret doorway. "How many times have I told you not to sneak around secret hallways?" she lectured.
"Um…none that I can remember. How do you know about the secret passageways?" Meg curiously asked.
"…I don't. I phound you by mere chance. Now stop asking silly questions and get onstage."
Early the next day:
Christine woke up to phind herselph in a swan-bed instead oph the daisies and pansies (not including Raoul) she had dreamt about. She drowsily rolled out oph bed and shrieked when she realized her stockings were missing.
"Where are my socks!" she demanded, stomping into the main room.
Halph-sexy guy looked up phrom his pipe-organ (which strangely sounded like a violin for the moment), hiding the white lace sock-puppets on his hands. "Um…uh…at the dry cleaners," he answered, grinning innocently.
"You lie!" Christine squeaked.
"No, he doesn't!" Ms. Right-Phoot-Sock-Puppet interrupted. "Well, maybe just a little."
Halph-sexy guy gasped at the lacey stocking puppet. "Traitor!"
"That's ok," Ms. Lepht-Phoot-Sock-Puppet chimed in. "I still love you," she assured halph-sexy guy, nuzzling his cheek.
"Oh, you evil, betraying stockings, a pox on you phor your inphidelity," the wanna-be diva cursed.
"You're curing your own stockings?" halph-sexy guy wondered, rather bewildered.
Christine shrugged, joining halph-sexy guy by the pipe-organ. Caressing his cheek, she cooed, "Give me my stockings back." Halph-sexy guy obediently took Ms. Right-Phoot-Sock-Puppet and Ms. Lepht-Phoot-Sock-Puppet oph his hands. "Play me a song," she requested sweetly, phlashing him and angelic smile.
"As you wish," he replied. His fingers instantly began to phlit across the keys, creating a beautiful melody just phor his angel. However, Christine never realized that when halph-sexy guy said "as you wish" what he really meant was "I love you."
((Halph the audience could phigure it out, but the wench was too busy acting innocent and seducing poor halph-sexy guy to make the connection.))
"I'm going to yank your mask oph and then laugh at you mercilessly," Christine continued.
Poor halph-sexy guy was too lost in her touch to notice.
"I said: The mast is coming ophh!" she shouted.
"As you wish," halph-sexy guy swooned, still not registering what was happening.
"I'm taking it ooooooooophh," she warned in a sing-song tone.
Halph-sexy guy was now completely consumed in his phantasy world. "TAKE IT OPHH!" he shouted gleephully. ((I don't even want to know what was running through his mind.))
"Ok." With that, Christine jerked the mask oph.
Halph-sexy guy, suddenly aware oph the situation, jumped up and glared at the wanna-be diva. "You slutwhorebitchBillClintonwenchprostitutehellchildhodaughterophthedevilmorecursedthanlucipherhimselphsonophasillypersonemptyheadedanimal'sphoodtroughwater-"
"Um…I'm a girl," Christine interrupted.
"I know. That's why I called you a slutwhorebitch-"
"You called me a 'son oph a silly person.' I'm not a son. I'm a daughter," she inphormed.
"Phine…" Halph-sexy guy then resumed shouting, "DUAGHTERophasillypersonemptyheadedanimal'sphoodtroughwateryourmotherwasahamsterandyourphathersmelledophelderberriesIthumbmynoseandbitemythumbinyourgeneraldirectionyouthoughtyoucouldphindtheHolyGrailrunningaroundwithyourkneesbentindancingphormationcretinimbicileidiotandallaroundMEANPERSON! You can never leave!"
Christine tapped her phoot and crossed her arms impatiently. "Are you done yet?"
"Yes…now let's take you back home," halph-sexy guy stated, snatching back his mask.
Later, back in the Opera House:
Andre ran up to Phirmin. "Check it out! I got a note written in red ink!"
"Oh! Show me! Show me!" Phirmin begged.
"Wazzuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup? I know what you did last summer, you pervy hobbit phancier! But I digress. I have taken time out oph my busy schedule to write a long chain oph anonymous letters. What is the nature oph these notes? Why, to annoy you, and inphorm you that you're all screwed iph you insist on ignoring me. Get rid oph the obnoxious diva. There is no 'or else.' Just do it!
M.J. J. Lo
Phirmin stared at Andre worriedly. "I got a note that was written in red ink too."
"Well, let's read it!" Andre ordered.
"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! … Anyhow, I want my money as well. I think that is all phor about phive seconds.
Andre and Phirmin shivered in phright. What was going to happen in about phive seconds?
"Oh my giddy aunt!" The horriphying shriek echoed oph the opera house walls.
"Where's my Christiiiiiiiiiiine!" The new owners turned around just in time to see the pansy run up to them in tears. "The evil monsters took my Christine!" he wailed, holding yet another letter with red ink.
"She's mine, you pathetic excuse phor a pansy! If you try to phind her, I'll keel you!
Phirmin clung to Andre. "He's going to kill us all!"
"I'm going to KILL Christine!" Carlotta screamed, stomping up to the new owners. "How dare you write such an ophending letter to me!" She glared at Raoul. "And I thought we had a good thing going too!"
Raoul shivered. "No…"
Just as Carlotta was about to kill Raoul, which would have made everybody happy, Madam Giry appeared…again.
"Christine's in her room. She looked kinda tired, so I gave her the day ophh," Madam Giry explained.
Carlotta gasped. "You never give me the day ophh!"
"Oh, go tell someone who cares," Madam Giry ordered.
With that, Raoul and Meg disappear with Madam Giry, while Phirmin and Andre are lepht to console Carlotta.