'DEPENDANT PERSONALITY DISORDER: THE MUSICAL'

We open in 1919 at the Opera Populaire, a crumbling old wreck of a theater in Paris.

Auctioneer: A monkey music box- sold for thirty francs to the Vicompoop de Chagny. Sucker. Now, Lot 666: a chandelier shattered into a million tiny pieces- still in working order!

The Vicompoop de Chagny: Yeah, right.

Auctioneer: No, really! It totally works, honest! And what's more, it was involved in the strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera.

Old Madame Giry (smiling reminisciently): Ah, ze Phantom of ze Opera. Ze highest-grossing muzical of all time. It 'ad zis really great overture. It goes like...

Loud organ music plays.

The Chandelier: Mmph, that's my cue. (Lights up and starts to rise toward ceiling).

Auctioneer: Wait, it works?

They are swept away as we are transported back in time and the Opera Populaire is slowly restored to its former glory. We end up in 1870's Paris (which was in the middle of a gigantic, all-consuming war at the time, but no one seems bothered by that- the opera must go on, dammit! You can't let a little bloodshed and starvation get in the way!)

The old owner: Everyone, allow me to introduce the two suckers I just fobbed this s***show off on... er, I mean, the two esteemed gentlemen who now own the illustrious Opera Populaire.

Firmin: What?

The old owner (quickly): Check out our production of Chalumeau's Hannibal… The scantily clad dancing girls are a new feature.

The diversion works.

Firmin: Ooh, check out the blonde.

Younger Madame Giry, preening: She is my daughter. See ze resemblance?

Andre: …And that exceptional beauty…

Madame Giry: …I conzider her a daughter as well! Must be why she eez so good-looking.

Enter MUCH younger Raoul. Much more younger than Madame Giry.

Audience: Huh?

Raoul: Botox, baby.

Andre and Firmin: Everybody look over here! New patron! Really rich, so kiss his aristocratic butt! Thank you!

Raoul: Meh. My parents forced me to be here. Opera sucks.

La Carlotta: Everybodya movea! Diva ina thea housea!

Carlotta shoves the four of them outa ofa hera waya.

Meanwhile

Christine (to Meg): Raoul de Chagny and I were childhood sweethearts.

Meg: How does that make any sense? That man is like fifteen years older than you.

Christine: Oh, yeah, now that you mention it, I guess he is…

Meg: That's f-in creepy!

Raoul: I'm really busy being rich and stuff, so I gotta go.

He turns to leave. He bumps into Christine and looks right at her.

Raoul: Outta my way, lowly ballet rat. (Exits.)

Christine: He wouldn't recognize me.

Meg: Maybe because you're not seven years old anymore?

Carlotta: Everybodya geta ready. I singa nowa.

Phantom: All that throat spray I whipped up for her does is make her wiggle her posterior in a most comical fashion. I'll have to think of something better…

Piano music.

Carlotta wiggles her posterior in a most comical fashion. The backstage workers stuff cotton into their ears in preparation for what is to come.

Phantom: (undetected from above) Cotton is for wusses. I have better ways of dealing with this. (He unfastens a backdrop which falls and pins Carlotta to the stage.)

A toad hops past.

Phantom: Say! I have an idea for a throat spray! (He leaves)

Piangi frees the sobbing Carlotta.

Lefabre: Bouquet! What's going on!

Andre: What's a bouquet got to do with it?

Lefabre: No, Joseph Bouquet, our stage manager.

Joseph Bouquet: Wasn't me! I was too busy being a creepy-ass pervert, remember?

Lefabre: Oh, that's true.

Bouquet: Must be a ghost! Whoo!

Meg: It'sthe Phantom of the Opera!

Phantom: (from lair, listening through speaking tube) Actually, sugar pie, I left three minutes ago.

Carlotta: I hate zis madhouse so much. Bring that muff I made out of my doggy… (She storms off)

Madame Giry: Zis eez what 'appens when you piss off ze Opera Ghost. LeFabre, zis eez all your fault.

LeFabre: Good luck, everybody! If you need me, I'll be orbiting Pluto. Which always has been and always will be a planet, by the way!

Firmin: What made you choose Pluto? That's like, as far away from here as it's possible to be.

LeFabre: Er- it's lovely this time of year. (Leaves hastily.)

Firmin: I smell a rat.

Andre: It's fine. He's just being artistic.

Firmin: Right…

Mme Giry: The Ghost commands that you continue to leaves Box Five empty for 'iz use…

Andre: What's so special about Box Five?

Firmin: (Dryly) Apart from the fact that it has nude gold female statuettes around it?

Andre: Dummy, all the boxes have nude gold female statuettes.

Firmin: Don't you love this opera house?

Andre: Why do you think we bought it?

Mme Giry: …Ahem. M. LeFabre used to give 'im twenty thousand francs a month.

Firmin: (Grabs letter) Twenty thousand francs? (Blowtorches letter) We can't make any francs without a diva!

Mme Giry: Maybe… Christine Daaé could sing it.

Meg: She can sing?

Christine: I can sing?

Andre and Firmin: The hot dancing girl?

Firmin: Let her have a go.

Christine starts the aria three steps lower than it was originally sung. No one seems to mind. Or notice.

Christine: Thi-

Andre and Firmin: You'll do just fine!

That night

Christine: -ink… a-ahhhhhhhhhhhhh- AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH… Oooooof meeeeee!

Some champagne glasses: *Shatter*

Christine: Wow, I can sing!

The audience, looking at their glasses: Dang. (They begin applauding wildly and throwing flowers.)

Raoul wakes up and sees Christine.

Raoul (turning to a friend): Would you look at that? The glamorous celebrity is my long-lost girlfriend!

He runs out of the box, singing to himself, although where he was running to (or what he was running away from) is a mystery never fully explained.

Cut to the Chapelle of the Opera Populaire, where Christine is lighting a candle to honor her father's memory. Aw.

Phantom (unseen): Bravissima! (Unlike Raoul, he actually praises Christine in the correct Italian gender.)

Christine looks wildly around.

Meg comes in.

Meg: Where the heck did that come from? You can sing opera?

Christine: Oh, yeah, that.

Meg: You used to suck at singing.

Christine: My father sent an angel of music to teach me.

Meg: You've seen an angel?

Christine: No. But somehow I know he's always with me, he, the unseen genius!

Meg: ...Right. Chris, I worry about you. You keep talking about unseen voices.

Meg: Chris, your face is all white and you know, your hands are really cold…

Phantom: No, I'm wearing gloves. My hands are perfectly comfortable, thanks.

Meg: I was talking to Christine, you idi-

Christine and Meg exchange anxious glances.

Phantom: Oops.

Meg: Omg, there is a voice. Something's going on.

Christine: Ooh, what?

Christine and Meg hurry out of the room. Meg suddenly freezes.

Meg: Your singing teacher is a voice that hides in the walls. The guy who keeps threatening us all is a voice that hides in the walls. Could it be the same person?

Christine: No way! That's just crazy!

They start back to Christine's dressing room. We see Joseph Bouquet watching them in a deeply creepy way.

Cut to Christine's dressing room

Raoul: (coming through the door, carrying someone else's bouquet of flowers) Little Lottie thought of…

Christine: It's you! Hey, didn't I see Andre carrying that bouquet earlier?

Raoul: What? No. (Hides flowers behind back.) Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing. Little Lotte thought, am I fonder of dolls (tosses bouquet across the room) or of shoes… or riddles, or frocks… or *dark* stories of the North? (makes "spooky hands") Anyway, what I mean to say is, Christine, I'm the little boy who went into the sea to rescue your scarf.

Christine: Yeah. I know. I was wondering when you'd recognize me.

Raoul: Cool. We're going to dinner. So much, uh, catching up to do. Yeah. 'Catching up'. See you in two minutes.

Christine: What? No, I have to practice and stuff. You don't wake up one day and hit a perfect C6.

Raoul: Bye!

He exits.

Christine: Great.

She goes behind her dressing screen (which, if you look, is positioned so that the mirror cannot see behind it, by the way) and changes into a very transparent dressing gown.

Madame Giry looks the door to Christine's dressing room, presumably to keep Raoul out, because one hopes that she wouldn't lock her daughter into a room with a deranged lunatic.

Phantom (singing from somewhere out of sight): Insolent boy, who knows nothing about fashion! Basking in your bikini! Ignorant fool, and opera-house polluter- expecting a girl to get dressed in two minutes!

Christine: Angel, forgive me! Enter at last!

Phantom: You can count on it. (Appears in the mirror) I am your angel…

Christine: Finally! (Looks him up and down) Wow! Here I was expecting to find a chubby-cheeked Raphael cherub, and instead… wow. Wait, why are you in evening wear? I thought angels were supposed to wear robes.

Phantom: Er... It's my day off. You know what, just go with it, okay?

Christine: Eh... okay!

Raoul: (From outside, rattling doorknob) Whose is that voice?

Phantom: Nobody's.

Raoul: Oh, okay then. Goodnight, nobody! *leaves*

Christine: Peace out! (turns to the Phantom) Okay, now what?

Phantom: I'm gonna need you to walk through the mirror.

Christine: Say what now?

Phantom: Just try it.

Christine walks through the mirror.

Christine: Well, that was trippy. What the heck just happened?

Phantom: You'll get used to it. I have. Let's sing!

Christine: Okay! The Phaaaaantom of the Opera is there...

Phantom: Wait, how did you find out?

Christine: Find out what?

Phantom: Never mind. Go on.

Christine: Thooooose whoooo have seeeeeen your faaaaace draw baaaack in feeeear…

Phantom: (throws torch into the air, terrified.) WAIT! You're not supposed to know about that for at least another ten minutes!

Christine (blankly): Know about what?

Phantom: Oh. Never mind. (He shakily picks up the torch) Continue…

Christine: (Shrugs). Eh, okay. I am the mask you wear… (At end of song) The Phaaantom of the Operaaaa- ah A-ah A-ah A-ah! A-ah! A-ah! (etc) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!

Phantom: That was a bit unnecessary, wasn't it? My ears are ringing.

Christine: Sorry, I saw a spider. Are we almost there?

Phantom: Right around the corner. Look, here we are.

Christine: Ooh, pretty! It's so atmospheric! So many candles! They're so shiny! I want to touch them!

Phantom: Youuuuu haaaave coooome heeeeere for one purpose and one alone!

Christine (leaning forward): Ooh, goody!

Phantom: Since the moment I first heard you sing I have needed you with me to sing...

Christine: Oh. Singing. Right. (Sits back.)

Phantom: And look what I made for you!

Christine: This may be just the atmosphere talking, but that looks an awful lot like me in a wedding dress.

Phantom (beaming delightedly): Uh-huh!

Christine: That's horrifying.

Phantom: It is? Aw, crap. I was going for romantic. I guess maybe this wasn't a first-date revelation.

Christine: You're not an angel. Wait- are you the opera ghost?

Phantom: Yeah. I thought we'd already established that.

Christine (weakly): I guess I had a bit of trouble connecting the dots.

Phantom: That's fine. Just so long as everything's clear now. Why, is it a problem?

Christine: *Faints*

Phantom: Erik, you sly dog you, the women are just falling at your feet. Okay, Christine, that was funny. You can get up now.

Silence.

He bends down and taps her cheek. She is breathing, but doesn't respond.

Phantom: Oh, well, that's unfortunate. (He grabs Christine by the ankles and hauls her over to his weird swan bed)

The audience: Omg wtf? What is this movie rated?

Phantom: Geez, get your minds out of the gutter! I'm just gonna let her sleep it off. I already told ya, I only brought her here to sing. It's not like I'm Joseph Bouquet.

Cut back to the outside of Christine's dressing room

Meg unlocks the dressing room and opens the door. Audience can't help wondering just HOW MANY PEOPLE have keys to Christine's dressing room, and hope that Bouquet is not among them.

Meg: Someone's gotta get to the bottom of this s***. (Sees the Alice in Wonderland miirror) What the heck is this? (Slides it open and steps through) That crazy kid my mom rescued has to be behind this. According to Mom, he killed somebody when he was like eight, and he could be hiding in the next shadow, just waiting to jump out at me with a knife. Oh well! *keeps going*

Rat: *squeak*

Meg: (Screams) Rats? That does it. I'm outta here.

Cut to the ballet dormitories at the Opera Populaire, where Bouquet is generally being pervy, and idk why anyone let him in there in the first place

Bouquet: His skin is yellowish!

Ballet rats: He has a sallow complexion- oh the horror!

Bouquet: You must be always on your guard, or he-

Madame Giry: -No, you must stop being a pervert, especially to his crush, or will burn you with the heat of his eyes! (she slaps him in the face) Although come to think of it, the rest of him is pretty hot, too.

Buquet: …He's a horribly disfigured sociopath.

Meg: So what? He's probably still hotter than you.

Buquet: See? They won't look my way when the Phantom's around! How else could I get their attention?

Back down to the lair again. The next morning.

Christine dreamily wakes up. Her stockings are gone.

Audience: Wtf?

Christine: Relax, they just got itchy. Nothing's happened. (She smiles.) Yet.

She walks down to where the Phantom is composing music at his organ- any ideas for how he might've gotten that thing down into the cave, anybody?

Christine: Leaving aside that whole wedding dress thing, I've decided I think you're awesome. You write me pretty music, and you're astonishingly good-looking, especially considering you're supposed to be deformed.

Phantom: ?…?

Christine: Maybe I'll make out with you.

Phantom: !

Christine: (tenderly caresses his face) I'm leaning toward you… But you know what? People in masks cannot be trusted. So I'm going to rip your mask off your face instead. HOLY CRAP, THAT IS ONE NASTY SUNBURN! Haven't you ever heard of Coppertone?

Phantom: !$#%*&%# PRYING PANDORA %!#$%* LYING DELILAH *%&*$*%&$*% Now we can never be together!

Christine: Wait, why?

Phantom: We just can't. (He holds out his hand.)

Christine: Whatever. (Hands him the mask.) Fine, you can have your stupid sunburn shield back already.

Phantom: (Puts it on) Come, we must rrrrrrrrreturrrrrrrrn. Get in the boat.

Christine: Wait, are you Scottish? I thought you were supposed to be French.

Phantom: You're supposed to be Swedish and you have a blatant upper-class-New-York accent, and I don't hear anyone complaining.

Christine: Yeah, but-

Phantom: Chrrrrristine, get in the boat.

Christine: Do you stay down here in the dark so you won't get sunburned anymore?

Phantom: Boat! Now! I'm on a tight schedule!

Christine: Why, do you have other sopranos to seduce?

Phantom: …Maybe.

(They get in the boat and shove off. We hear Chrrrrrrrrrrristine's voice drift back through the darkness.)

Christine: The next time you go to the beach, you should really remember to reapply every two hours.

Cut to the grand foyer of the Opera Populaire, which, like the boxes and the stage, is decorated with many naked gold female statues.

Andre: I got a threatening note asking for money.

Firmin: Me too! I wonder if it's anything to do with this Opera Ghost dude who's been threatening us and asking us for money.

Andre: Nahh. It's probably the Vicomte playing pranks.

Andre and Firmin: These are both signed O.G.… what could that possibly stand for?

A+F think for several minutes. Crickets begin to chirp. Wind swirls and a tumbleweed rolls by. Finally…

Andre: Off guard?

Firmin: Omelette greens?

Andre and Firmin (grabbing each other): Opera Ghost!

Phantom: (Meanwhile, listening through speaking tube): Opera Ghost? Opera Ghost? Do they really think the Omnipotent Genius can't come up with anything better than that?

Raoul: (storms into foyer): Where's Christine?

Firmin: Well, how should we know? …Nice pinstripes.

Raoul: Why, thank you! Ann Taylor loft was having a sale!

Carlotta: (storms in, followed by her posse) Foppy sent me a nasty lett-air!

Raoul: … What is it that I'm meant to have wrote? (He takes it and begins to read)

Car-little-lotte, your days at the Opera Populaire are numbered.

Raoul, keep away from my fiancée, or you'll be dismembered.

Phanty's voice takes over, and the scene changes to him in his lair, writing the note

I'll stop now, cuz I'm running out of stationery.

To hell with this useless rhyming dictionary!

Phantom hurls the rhyming dictionary across the room.

Cut back to the Grand Foyer

Raoul: (finishing reading) I remain, Gentlemen, your obedient servant, P.O.

Phantom: Well. That did not come out the way I intended it to…

Raoul (to Firmin), Firmin (to Andre), and Carlotta (to Raoul): If you didn't write it, then who did?

Carlotta: I'ma leavinga!

A+F: But, but, butbutbut… We want you in the lead! So do all those people out there!

All those people out there: Chri-stine! Chri-stine! Chri-stine!

Firmin: See? Your public needs you!

Andre: We'll let you sing the lead!

Carlotta: Noa!

Andre: We'll get you a new muff, and a new puppy!

Carlotta: Noa!

Firmin: We'll carry you down the corridor!

Carlotta: Noa!

Andre: We'll drink champagne from your shoes!

Carlotta: You 'ave mah attention.

Firmin: We'll paint a poster of you holding Andrew Lloyd Webber's severed head on a plate!

Carlotta: Done!

All those people out there: Drat. Well, don't count on us coming!

Andre: Screw you, we don't need an audience!

Firmin: Actually, yes, we kind of do...

Cut to the auditorium of the Opera Populaire, filled with a massive audience of people who have apparently been paid to be there

Carlotta's posterior-wiggling throat spray is sitting on a tray in the wings. The Phantom slips in, replaces it with a different throat spray, puts the old one in his pocket, and leaves with his hands folded villainously. No one seems to think anything's amiss.

The curtain rises on Il Muto, an amazingly stupid but heavily symbolic 'opera' about a beautiful girl who hates her vocally talented but overbearing lord and master and wants to run off with a rather drippy but handsome youth. Obviously, this does nothing for the Phantom's fragile state of mind.

Carlotta: Serafimo, away with this pretence!

Christine-afimo flings aside her skirt to reveal her "manly breeches", which do not look very manly, which may have something to do with the fact that she is, um, a woman. The audience is too drunk to feel confused.

Phantom: Did I not instruct that Box Five was to be kept *empty*! (His voice reverberates around the room.)

Christine: Yeah, he's definitely Scottish.

Audience: Nice special effects!

Raoul: Oh, box 5? I thought you meant Box 2. Sorry, I'm a bit dyslexic.

Carlotta: (she sprays her throat spray) *Croak!*

Someone pulls her offstage with a shepherd's crook. The Phantom shoves Christine on instead and then disappears.

The managers bring out the ballet to entertain the audience, but it's a farce, because apparently sheep get stage fright too.

Up in his perch in the ceiling, the Phantom suddenly gets an insightful idea for how to win Christine back.

Phantom: I'll murder a guy for her! Bitches love murder!*

*I see no other explanation for how he could have come to the conclusion that this would be in any way helpful in fixing things with Christine.

The Phantom strangles Joseph Buquet and drops his body into the middle of the stage.

Christine: That's it, I'm outta here!

Audience: Wait, there's bodies? This opera's getting weird now! Oh, well.

Firmin and Andre: (from center stage) It was an accident! Simply an accident!

Christine: Oh, right!

The audience: Wait, that wasn't part of the opera?

Firmin: Shit.

Chaos.

Christine: I'm getting the hell of Dodge. Raoul, wanna come with?

Raoul: You betcha!

Cut to the roof of the Opera Populaire

Raoul: Why have you brought me up here?

Christine: Um, I don't know actually. The Phantom's up here, and we're supposed to be running away from him… Why are we up here?

Raoul: I'm pretty convinced there's actually no Phantom. Just because someone is murdered by a guy in a mask and black cloak and dropped onto the stage under incredibly suspicious circumstances doesn't mean there's foul play at work. Let's not jump to conclusions. Also, can we talk about where the heck you've been this past few weeks?

Christine: But Raoul, I've seen him! I can never escape from that less than 25% of a face, so severely sunburned, it was hardly a less than 25% of a face in that darkness… darkness…

Raoul: Did you take your meds today?

Christine: I'm not on medication, you ass! It was real!

Raoul: I have an idea to get your mind off things. Let's make out.

Christine: Hmm... You'd be reasonably good-looking if you cut your hair, so okay!

Phantom: *peeks out from behind statue* *gets really angry*

Christine (to Raoul): Alright, that's enough. I need to go ice my lips.

Raoul: You pretty and kiss good. Will you marry me?

Christine: What exactly gave you the idea that this would be a good time for a proposal? Is it the fact that a guy just died? Or the fact that I'm standing in the snow in my underwear? Actually, on second thought, don't answer that.

Raoul: Well, putting all those things aside for the moment... Come on, it'll be fun! We can hang out a lot and have sleepovers every night.

Christine: Will you protect me from the murderous sociopath?

Raoul: From the murderous sociopath who doesn't exist? Sure, babe. Whatever you say. I'll be brave and manly and protect you from him.

Christine: Hm, I still don't know. Can we discuss your benefits package?

Raoul: Actually, we offer a pretty competitive one. You'd be the Vicomtesse de Chagny.

Christine: What would that mean?

Raoul: Among other things, it means you get all the booby dresses you could ever want.

Christine: Done!

Raoul: Cool.

Christine: Can I have six bridesmaids?

Raoul: Six? That's insane. How am I supposed to pay for that many dresses?

Christine: But I want to invite all my ballet friends! Maybe as a cost-cutting measure, they could just wear their slutty dance outfits!

Raoul: I was thinking ten bridesmaids...

Off they go, chattering happily.

Phantom: Yooooouuuuuuuuu will curse the day you met that foppyyyyyy!

Cut to the Grand Foyer of the Opera Populaire, where a New Years' Eve 1871 masquerade ball is being held.

Andre: Ram-y!

Firmin: Rooster-man!

They hug.

Fast-forward several months to a New Years' party. The partygoers sing Masquerade, an amazingly stupid but heavily symbolic song. Much to Andre and Firmin's chagrin, they are by no means the most ridiculously attired people there. Partygoers are wearing costumes featuring, among other things, a Furby, a fairy, Zorro, clocks, and lots and lots of cotton balls. Everything is black, silver, gold, or white. Gold men have been strategically placed in the corners of the staircase for no apparent reason.

Gold man to naked gold female statue: How's it goin', hunny?

Enter Christine and Raoul. Christine is celebrating their secret engagement by wearing her engagement ring in perhaps the only place where it would be more conspicuous than on her finger… around her neck where everyone can see it. Suddenly, the Phantom appears at the top of the stairs, carrying a musical score.

Partygoers: (Gasp!) Omg! The world is coming to an end- He's wearing red at a black, silver, gold and white party!

Phantom: Didn't you hear? Red is the new gold. Oh, by the way… My managers are no good with the arts, Piangi, you're too fat to play a decent role, Carlotta, you can't sing, dance, or act, and Christine has much still to learn if she ever wants to be any good. So… I've selected you guys to perform my masterpiece!

Andre and Firmin: That checks out.

Andre: Anything suspicious about this?

Firmin: Nah, it makes total sense.

Andre and Firmin: We'll do it!

The Phantom: Cool. See you in November. I've gotta go sew myself more tight pants.

(For once, the Phantom does not ask for his usual box, which oddly enough does not get anyone's attention. You almost can't blame him for haunting people when they make it so incredibly easy.)

The Phantom throws the Don Juan score to the floor, rips the ring from around Christine's neck, bursts into flames and disappears into a hole that inexplicably appears in the floor.

Raoul: Well, he was interesting. Who was that?

Christine smacks herself in the forehead.

Somewhere beneath the opera house

Phantom: (blowing himself out) My goodness, I am simply too *puff* hot for my own *puff* good *puff, puff*. I must be more careful next time. Lighter fluid clearly wasn't necessary.

Back upstairs

Raoul: (Grabs the score and leaps into the hole) Sir, wait! You forgot your briefcase! Sir? Where did you go? Hey, this is just like the fitting room at Hollister! (Ecstatically) I can see a million of myself at the same time!

Mme Giry: You've got to get out of here. This is a hellish torture chamber designed to make victims go mad.

Raoul (Looking at all his reflections): More like heavenly!

Madame Giry: Come on.

Raoul: Wait! Due to a massive flaw in the script, I am now suddenly aware that you know something that may or may not be marginally relevant to the plot!

Mme Giry: ...

Raoul: You have got to tell me! You've just got to!

Madame Giry: Why?

Raoul: Uh... Idk. Another flaw in the script, I guess.

Mme Giry: Oh, whatever. It was years ago. There was a traveling fair in ze town. The Phantom-

Raoul: Who is this Phantom guy?

Madame Giry: Christine's hot friend who she's probably sleeping with.

Christine's fiancée: Okay, him.

Madame Giry: Zese scary-ass people were beating him a had 'im caged up as a freak. 'E was only a leetle boy. Eet was really depressing, and quite inconsistent weeth ze tone of ze rest of zis movie. What? Why do you 'ave zat ridiculous look on your face?

Raoul: I get it now! He's deformed!

Madame Giry: (nods slowly) Yes, Raoul.

Raoul: And why is this of any relevance to the plot whatsoever?

Madame Giry: Ah don't know. You were ze one who asked me. Now go away. Ah need to practice mah French accent.

Cut to a cemetery near the Opera Populaire

Christine: Here I am, Dad, fulfilling my promise to come sing opera to your grave every year. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!

A corpse: Mmph! Whatsa big idea? I was sleeping here!

Gravekeeper: Stares.

Phantom: Hey, Chris!

Christine: Go away. Why should I want to talk to you? You killed a guy. Besides, I'm engaged to Raoul.

Phantom: Uh… because… (Breathing slowly and heavily) Christine, I am your father. And I told you not to date guys with long hair, remember?

Christine: You're totally not my dad, you liar. You wanted to make out with me earlier. That's just weird!

Phantom: Then… I am your Angel of Music.

Christine: Wait, really? It's actually you this time? Finally!

Phantom: I was just kidding, but wow, are you gullible.

Raoul rides up on a white horse he stole from the set of Cinderella, breaking Christine's concentration.

Phantom: I almost had her!

The Phantom leaps at Raoul, sword drawn.

Christine: Raoul, look out!

Raoul (standing there, arms crossed): It's fine. He's not real, remember?

The Phantom nicks his arm.

Raoul: Aggghh! He is real!

Christine: Raoul! Draw your sword! You promised you'd be brave and manly and protect me!

Raoul: Yeah, but I didn't think-

-The Phantom nicks Raoul's face.

Raoul: My face! My beautiful face! Now this is personal! (Draws his sword and attacks.)

It is a dirty fight.

Raoul: You are very good. I admit it, you are better than I am.

Phantom: Then why are you smiling?

Raoul: Because I am not left-handed!

He switches sides and slowly gains the upper hand, finally knocking the Phantom to the ground.

Phantom (groaning): I just remembered I am not left-handed either.

Raoul: Too late!

He and Christine leap onto the horse.

Christine: Awesome! We're bustin' outta here, right? Where are we going? We're fleeing the country, I hope? Or possibly going to the police?

Raoul: Nope! I know the perfect place to go!

Christine: Where?

Raoul: Back to that death trap of an opera house! That's cool with you, right?

Christine: I don't believe this.

Raoul and Christine ride away. The Phantom slowly stands up.

Prince Charming (running up): Hey, what's going on? I want my horse back!

The Phantom sticks out a fist and knocks him over.

Cut to a corridor in the Opera Populaire

Raoul is wearing a bomber jacket… in 1871. I have nothing more to say.

Andre, Firmin and Raoul, arm in arm, singing: We're off to kill the Phantom! The horrible Phantom of Op! Because, because, because, because, because of the horrible things he does!

Phantom: (falling into step beside them) Hey. So… how do you plan to do this exactly?

Raoul: Hey! Okay, so we're gonna perform your opera, using Christine as bait you can't resist…

Phantom: Uh-oh. That is kind of my kryptonite.

Andre: You're using your fiance as bait to catch a murderous lunatic? That's kind of a douchey move, bro.

Raoul: Shut up. (Turns back to the Phantom.) Once that's set up, we're gonna march umpteen heavily armed and uniformed policemen right through the main entrance of the Opera Populaire while everyone is watching (that way no one will notice), and right as they have their guns trained on you…

Phantom winces…

Raoul: I'll change my mind and tell them not to shoot!

Phantom relaxes.

Raoul (beaming): It's foolproof! I was up all night planning it.

Phantom: Well, I'll be here tonight for sure, then! (He leaves)

Raoul: We look forward to having you he-

Raoul looks at Firmin, Firmin looks at Andre, and Andre looks at Raoul.

The three amigos: Uh-oh.

Exeunt.

Cut to the Chapelle of the Opera Populaire

Christine: Raoul, I'm frightened. I don't want to be in this opera. It's creepy. Don Juan Triumphant… doesn't that sound a bit concerning to you?

Raoul: Nah. It's probably about Don Juan's completely platonic friendship with an impressionable young virgin. Christine, it's okay. I totally care, and the fate of the known universe rests squarely on your shoulders, so you totally don't have to be worried.

Christine: You really know how to comfort a woman whose heart is hurting. Anyway, how exactly does the fate of the known universe rest on my shoulders?

Raoul: The Phantom will definitely come if you're there. So once he appears, we're going to… throw the Phantom in prison. Just in prison. We're definitely not going to shoot him or anything like that. But you have to keep him onstage long enough for us to do that. Imprison him, I mean.

Christine (sensing foul play): I dunno how I feel about this.

Raoul: I hate to do this to you, but you might have to make out with him or something.

Christine: What time is the show?

The Phantom's opera, Don Juan Triumphant

The Phantom swiftly dispatches poor old Piangi and comes out onto the stage.

Christine: Are you wearing leggings?

Phantom: They're workout tights!

Christine: Hey, I'm not judging. The look works for you. Wait… You're not Piangi.

Phantom: What tipped you off? Was it the lack of a beard or the fact that I don't weigh five hundred pounds?

Christine: (Groans) Are you the Phantom?

Phantom: Yeah. No offense, but you're really slow to pick up on things.

Christine: Seriously? This again?

Raoul: Aha we have you now!

Policemen: Ready, aim, fire!

Most of the women and some of the men in the movie theatre: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

This movie isn't worth watching without Gerald Butler!

Including Christine: Noooo! Raoul, you promised! (Thinking quickly, she rips off the Phantom's mask). Aw, everybody look how badly this poor guy's been sunburned! And, wait, it's been there for over six months. This can only mean one thing…

Phantom: What? Go on, tell me!

Christine: You went back to the beach and you still didn't use any sunscreen like I told you! Do you never learn?

Audience: Oh my god, he's a hideously disfigured freak of nature!

Phantom: Oh my god, it's an overreactive audience with unnaturally keen eyesight!

He cuts the rope that holds up the chandelier.

Christine rips his wig off too

Phantom: Okay, that's just mean.

Ashamed of his scraggly hair, he dives off the stage in embarrassment, dragging Christine along with him.

Christine: Whoooo! This is like the Tower of Terror! Wait, how long is this drop?

Phantom (calling up to her): Like five stories.

Christine: So you included a parachute or something in the costume, right?

Phantom: Nah.

Christine: Shit.

Five stories beneath the opera house

Christine (landing): Oof! What is going on? Did you drop a chandelier? You can't go around dropping people's chandeliers!

Phantom: (Grabbing her) Ahahahaha! I have you now and I will never let you go, you lying little witch!

Christine: You're mad at me?

Phantom: Yes! You pulled my mask off in front of a bunch of people! Why did you do it? Why? Why? Why? Why? Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?

Christine: I honestly have no idea.

The auditorium

Mme Giry: Raoul! Raoul! I know how to get to the Phantom's lair even though I've never seen this entrance before.

Raoul: What- how?

Madame Giry (innocently): Oh, those darn little flaws in the script.

Raoul: Cool. Should we take some backup or something? Or weapons?

Madame Giry: No, ah do not see how backup or weapons could be een any way helpful or reassuring when dealing weeth a murderous lunatic.

Raoul: Yeah, you're right! Let's go.

They wend their way through an increasingly creepy series of tunnels. Raoul doesn't seem bothered.

Madame Giry: (a few minutes later) Zis is as far as I dare go.

Raoul: Why?

Madame Giry: Uh... Oh, shoot, ah just remembered ah left ze stove on!

Raoul: I'm sorry to hear that. Better go take care of that.

Madame Giry: You okay to take things from here?

Raoul: Sure. (Runs down a couple flights of stairs.) (Runs right into in a hole and falls thirty feet into an explicable pool of water.)

Madame Giry: *Snicker* Moron. (Leaves)

Raoul: Glug glug gurgle gurgle gurgle. (Sees a release mechanism). Thank God! (He hauls himself out of the water.) Well, that was close. But I still have no idea where the Phantom's lair is. Oh, good, here comes a flaw in the script. Now I magically know exactly where it is! (Heads that way. Storms into the lair.)

Phantom: Hey, care to join us? We were just gonna open up a bottle of wine and-

Raoul: Unhand her, foul schemer!

Phantom: Actually, I was just kidding. There's a solid iron porticullis between us, so it's hopeless. Bye now.

Christine falls on the porticullis lever and it slowly rises.

Phantom: Nice going, ditz!

Raoul: Chris, you're a genius!

Phantom: Come on in. Mi casa es su casa.

Raoul: Danke schön! See, I know Spanish too. Okay, so can I take Christine and go?

Phantom: Sure. I just need to take care of one thing first.

Raoul: Okay.

The Phantom ties Raoul up.

Raoul: Hey!

The Phantom pulls the rope taught around Raoul's neck and begins to suffocate him. A large blob of snot oozes out of Raoul's nose and dribbles down the front of his face.

This is not a joke.

This is not artistic innovation.

It actually happens toward the end of the film- watch carefully, though it's pretty difficult to miss: it looks approximately like a big green caterpillar.

Christine: Ew. Why are you tying him up, exactly?

Phantom: I'll make this easy to remember: If you stay with me, I'll kill him!

Christine: Ah, man! ... Wait, no... that doesn't make sense.

Phantom: Wait, no, that's not it. Give me a second. I've had a busy day.

Raoul: Sure, take your time.

Phantom: If you kill him, you have to stay with me!

Christine: *blinks*

Raoul: No, that's not it either.

Phantom: Yeah, you're right... Bear with me. I've almost got this.

Christine: You really would not make a good supervillain.

Phantom: Yes, I totally would! Just give me a moment. Haha, I've got it now: Either you stay with me or I kill him!

Raoul: Shoot, that does make sense...

Christine (to the Phantom): What? That's completely barbaric! Your rippling muscles and scintillating green eyes no longer hold any charms for me. None whatsoever.

Phantom: The clock is ticking.

Christine: You really think you can force people to love you? What kind of life have you had? That's actually really depressing. What can I do to help? Hmm... I know! (She kisses him. A moment later...) Hey, this is actually pretty nice.

The Phantom's brain: GIRL PROXIMITY ALERT! GIRL PROXIMITY ALERT! ERROR! SYSTEMS OVERLOAD!

Christine: *Kiss, kiss, kiss*

Phantom: (sobbing) Go! Be free! You're too beautiful and innocent to stay with the likes of me.

Raoul: You're right, I am. (frees himself from the ropes) Well, thanks for everything. We'll send you a wedding invitation. Maybe we'll see you at the opera ball next year?

Phantom: I wouldn't count on it. I gotta run on account of that whole murder thing- mmph. (His words are cut off as Christine keeps kissing him.)

Raoul: Christine, we're going. Ahem.

Christine (still making out): Eh?

Raoul: You can't seriously be thinking of staying with that lunatic.

Christine: But he's such a good kisser.

Raoul: Christine, the 'Vicomtesse de Chagny' train is leaving the station, and if you don't get on it right now, it's not coming back!

Christine: Oh, fine, whatever. (Leaves the Phantom)

Phantom: Wait, stay with me!

Christine: It's tempting, but you know, I don't think I'm gonna take you up on that.

Phantom: Why? Because I'm deformed? It's because I'm deformed!

Christine: No, it's because I'm still a bit hung up about the whole wedding-dress-statue thing. And the fact that you lied to me and pretended to be the Angel of Music. And the forced-marriage bit, too. Oh, and the fact that you murdered two people!

Raoul: Wait, I thought it was because you liked me...

Phantom: You mean you don't hate me because of my face? You mean if I hadn't killed those people and gone on this furious rampage you might still like me?

Christine: Yeah.

Phantom: WELL, WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THIS TWO HOURS AGO?

Christine: Did you think killing people would make me like you more?

Phantom: GO NOW AND LEAVE ME!

Christine (slogging away): Shame. He has nice pecs.

Raoul: Hey, I have muscles too!

Christine: You try.

A few minutes later, outside Madame Giry's flat

Mme Giry: YOU LET HER GO? You let her run off with that inbred little twit? I made up stories about you; I locked her in her dressing room for you, I was the one who told Raoul to style his hair like that, just to turn Christine off him… I even dumped him into a hole full of water, and you tell me you let her go?

Phantom: It's a long story, Rosalinde… *

Mme Giry: I don't know why I even bother.

*Leroux never tells us Madame Giry's first name

FIN.