A long time ago in an empire

Far, far away…

In a land called Hollywood…

PHANTOM

WARS

The Evil Empire

Episode X

Written by Mishi, The EFX Mistress

It is a period of creative unrest.  Rebel Campaigners, fighting in support of Mike Solo-Singer, keeper of The Sacred Mask, strike out from their Web Base.

They have won their first battles against the evil Empire.  During the battles, the rebels managed to acquire secret plans for The Empire’s first attempt at the ultimate weapon:

The Phantom Movie Script.

Pursued by The Empire’s sinister public relations agents, Princess Daae is the custodian of the first secret plans that would have cast Mike Solo-Singer, the original Phantom, restored integrity to the future of movie musicals, and freedom from all Phantom menaces within The Empire.

It is a dark time for the rebellion…

Although The Empire’s forces have driven The Rebel Campaigners back to their growing Web Base, skirmishes continue to break out in newspapers and media all over that galaxy.

The evil Lord Darth Webber, obsessed with finding a seventeen-year-old Christine, has returned to the depths of his baleful abode and dispatches propaganda into the far reaches of media space.

The rebel forces have returned to the battle lines in an attempt to rescue the latest script from the clutches of the vile villain Habla-le-Strut, Sword Swinger and Menace of the Mediterranean, who is in league with Kepoor-Star-Stalker.

Little do they know that these two, in consort with the evil Empire, have already secretly begun plans to film the new version of the “Phantom Movie” even more destructive to the integrity of the original play than the first dreaded script.

When completed, this ultimate violation will spell certain doom for the future of the movie musical and the band of rebels struggling to restore creative justice to the movie…

-The Michael Crawford Phantom Movie Campaign

All of space was still and silent as far as the eye’s vision could reach as a giant space ship traveled among the stars.

            The ship, blue with gold trim, flat, and in the shape of a shield, bore the letters “W” and “B” in proud gold.  The vessel seemed harmless enough, but every living being knew that aboard that ship was the most feared and hated force in the entire universe:

            The Warner Empire.

            Deep within the bowels of the ship, a man stood alone.

            At first glance, anyone would have laughed at this man.  His hair was a dark ash gray and thinning…badly.  To be brutally honest, it looked like he had a dead tribble sitting atop his head.  He had facial features that resembled a little boy who had been hit in the face one too many times by the tetherball at recess.  He was relatively short, too, giving the impression that he was weak.

            To counter-act his hideous appearance, the man had taken to wearing nothing but black.  Black seemed threatening enough for him.  And just to draw attention to his status in society, he donned a long black cape.

            “Sir?…” A woman in an officer’s uniform hesitantly approached.

            “Yes, Sgt. Greaves?”

            “Sir, everything is ready.”

            “Excellent, Sgt.” The man responded.  “Return to the upper decks.  I’ll be there shortly.”

            As Sgt. Greaves left, the man turned and stared out the window.  I’ll have this universe trembling in the palm of my hand and they can’t stop me.

            He grinned an ugly Cheshire cat grin. “No-one can stop me: Lord Darth Webber!”

            A few light years away from Lord Darth Webber’s ship sat the beautiful, yet foggy, planet of Lon-Dunn.  It was a peaceful planet composed mainly of actors, actresses, writers, and other people important to making theatre the success that it was.

            One of those important people was Mike Solo-Singer.  He had won the hearts of the people of Lon-Dunn when he portrayed The Phantom in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s The Phantom of the Opera.  Mike had high hopes when plans began to develop for a film version of the musical, but the film never came to be.  The movie had died, along with Mike’s very, very bright and promising future.

            Mike tried hard not to think about it, though.  He got plenty of job offers and recording contracts and he was an intergalactic star.  The same thing would have happened if the “Phantom Movie” had been made, right?  He figured he wasn’t missing too much.  But still: to play The Phantom on the big screen instead of on a stage…

            With a sad sigh, Mike Solo-Singer looked away from the glass display case that held his Phantom mask.   No, he wouldn’t think about the movie.

            I won’t even think about work. He told himself.  I’m on my first vacation since Phantom, so I’m going to enjoy it.

            And with that, he made himself a cup of tea and proceeded to go through the day’s post.  “Bill, bill, magazine subscription, bill, credit card application, bill…”

            One by one, all of his letters found their way into the paper shredder.

            “…and another bill.”

            *zzzzrcht!*

            The only surviving piece of mail was a large, purple, Starlight Express envelope.  Curious, Mike opened it to find a black jewelry box with gold trim.  There was no return address on the envelope, and the only slip of paper, taped to the top of the box, contained the simple phrase, “Open me.”

            “I hope this isn’t a bomb…”

            Cautiously, Mike opened the jewelry box.

            He found that it wasn’t a bomb, but one of those musical jewelry boxes where, when you open it, a little ballet girl pops up and twirls around to the music.  And the music sounded eerily like “Masquerade.”

            “What?  Who sent this?!”

            “Masquerade” wound down and was replaced by a female voice.  “Hello?  Is this on?  Test, test…  Ok, it works.”

            The little ballet girl took a bow, sitting down, and that’s when Mike saw his reflection shimmer in the jewelry box mirror.  After a moment, the mirror cleared and Mike found himself staring at the image of a beautiful girl of about twenty in the mirror.

            “Help me, Mike Solo-Singer.” The girl begged.  “You’re my only hope.”

            Suddenly, the girl looked to her left in terror.  She drew a gasp and her image disappeared to be replaced by Mike’s reflection.  “Masquerade” started up again and the ballet girl stood with a bow and began to dance again.

            Mike sat there staring at the jewelry box as the music and message played over and over. 

            A pretty girl needed his help?  He was an actor, not a hero.  Besides, he didn’t know who she was.  He didn’t even know what kind of trouble she was in!

            “There must be another Mike Solo-Singer.” He decided.  “I’ll just take this back to the post office and they can deliver this to the right person.”

            So he picked up the jewelry box and headed outside and down the street.

            The fog on Lon-Dunn grew eerily thicker and this made Mike incredibly nervous.  Everywhere he looked, he thought he saw the ghostly outline of a person following him.  He began to walk a little faster.

            Mike rounded a corner and was met by a shadowy figure.  Too terrified to run, he watched as the person emerged from the fog.

            The man was tall and appeared taller in his black tuxedo.  A black cape flowed from his shoulders and his head was topped with a black fedora.  But the man only had half a face.   The left half was that of a normal, handsome man, but the right side of his face appeared to be artificial, almost smooth and metallic.

            Dread crossed Mike’s face as the man approached him.  Just before the man reached out, Mike regained his senses.

            “Ahh!  It’s The Terminator!” And he promptly turned and (accidentally) ran face first into a lamppost.

            The last thing Mike Solo-Singer saw before darkness overtook him was the man with half a face standing over him.

            When Mike Solo-Singer awoke some hours later, he thought he saw about seven little plastic ballet girls dancing around his head to a techno version of “Masquerade.”

            “Owww…” He moaned.  “My head hurts.  Wha happa?”

            “You ran into a lamppost…literally.”

            Mike turned to the owner of the voice: the man with half a face.

            In the light, Mike saw that the right side of the man’s face wasn’t metallic, but rather covered by a white half-mask.  Like the one he kept in his display case at home.

            He stared at the man, bewildered.  “I know you…don’t I?”

            “Aside from our brief meeting on Lon-Dunn, you should.”  The man removed his fedora with a bow. “My name is Erik Catwalker.  ‘Erik’ to my friends, and ‘O.G.’ to my ‘business associates.’”

            “(Oh, The Phantom!)” Mike was in awe.  “But…what do you want from me?   Where am I, anyway?”

            “Everything will be explained in the meeting room.  Come.” Erik gestured for Mike to follow him.  “We’re in dark times, my friend, and you’re the only one who can restore the light.”

            After a short trip down a corridor, the two arrived at the meeting room of the ship Mike still didn’t know anything about.  Three people, two men and one woman, were patiently awaiting their arrival.

            “Solo-Singer, these are some of my closest colleagues.” Erik introduced.  “Lt. Dale and Sgt. Vivian.”

            Sgt. Vivian was obviously flattered by meeting the Mike Solo-Singer.  “Please, call me Vi.”

            “Our main job is to plan our attacks.” Lt. Dale explained vaguely.

            Mike went slightly pale.  “‘Attacks?’”

            Erik motioned towards the third person: a handsome, blonde, twenty-two year old male. “And this, unfortunately, is Raoul the Wussie.”

            “I am not a wussie, you freak-show reject!” Raoul shot back.

            “You would be wise to hold your tongue.” Erik hissed.  “Or you’ll find too late that prudent silence is wise.”

            Mike thought he saw Erik twisting a length of rope in the folds of his cape.  He tried to change the subject.  “So, where am I and why am I here?”

            “As you know,” Sgt. Vi began, “There were plans for a movie version of The Phantom of the Opera.”

                Mike rolled his eyes.  “Don’t remind me.”

            “Two things brought the abrupt end to that project: firstly, Andrew Lloyd Webber divorced his wife Sarah, Ange de Musique.  Secondly, ALW was murdered by Lord Darth Webber.”

            “No wonder all his shows after Phantom were so bad.  But all this has to do with me how?”

            “Lord Darth Webber is going to film the Phantom movie.”

            Mike’s jaw dropped to the floor.

            “You didn’t know about this?!” Erik cried.

            “No!” Mike shook his head.  “I’ve been busy with work: I’ve had record deals, a show in Vegas, I hosted that ‘Miss Universe’ pageant -”

            Lt. Dale cut him short.  “Mike, the movie’s going on without you.”

            “What?!  But…but…I was promised…”

            Raoul shrugged.  “Eh, ya win some, ya loose some.  Tough break, pal.”

            Vi was appalled.  “Raoul!!”

            “What?!”

            Mike sank into a chair, stunned and completely numb.  “The Phantom of the Opera will be made…without me?…”

            He tightly grasped the music box.

            “Mike,” Sgt. Vi knelt in front of him, gently squeezing his hand, “For the past four years, we, The Rebel Campaigners, have been fighting for you, but we can’t do it alone anymore.  Will you help us?”

            There was a long silence.

            If Lord Darth Webber had wanted Mike Solo-Singer to reprise his role as The Phantom, he would have contacted him…wouldn’t he?  If Mike joined the rebels, why should it make a difference now?  After four years?

            Mike felt something stir deep inside him.  The beautiful girl from the music box had contacted him for help.  The rebels were fighting for him.  And the Phantom movie…would be made for them.

            Mike rose to his feet.  “I’ll help you fight.  The magic and mystery of The Phantom must be saved; but not for me or us, but for the entire cosmos.”

            With a grin, Lt. Dale patted him on the back.  “Mike, welcome aboard The WWW Phantom Movie.”

            “What do I have to do?”

            “Our first order of business,” Erik explained, “Is to board Lord Darth Webber’s ship and rescue my beloved Princess Daae.”

            “Your beloved?!” Raoul tried hard to contain his rage.  “I beg your pardon, monsieur, but Christine is in love with me!”

            “You try my patience.”  And with that, Erik leapt at the Wussie, fully intent on strangling him with the rope from his cloak.

            As Lt. Dale and Sgt. Vi attempted to separate the bickering Parisians, Mike absently opened the music box.  At the sound of “Masquerade,” the fight immediately died.

            “Where did you get that?!” Erik demanded.

            “I got it in the mail via Starlight Express.” Mike shrugged.   “I don’t know who sent it.”

            And that’s when the recorded message for help began to play, the mirror showing the girl’s terrified face.

Sgt. Vi went pale.  “It’s Princess Daae!”

            Sgt. Greaves shook her head as she ushered a young woman down a corridor in Lord Darth Webber’s ship.

            “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She murmured.  “This is insane.”

            “Then why are you doing it?” The woman asked.

            Greaves stopped short and turned to her prisoner.  Greaves thought the woman was beautiful with her long, brown, ringlet hair, her slender form, and her big blue eyes.  She was honest, kind, and innocent.  So why was Greaves holding her prisoner?

            “Because it’s my job, Princess Daae.” The Sgt. started back down the hall.  “You’re the leader of The Rebel Campaigners and that makes you my enemy…but you haven’t done anything wrong!”

            “Then let me go.” Princess Christine Daae suggested.

            “I wish I could.” Greaves sighed.  “But I’ve got my orders.  If it were up to me, there’d be no war, but it’s not my decision.”

            Christine was stunned.  “You support the rebels?”

            “Mike Solo-Singer is the only Phantom; not that menace that The Warner Empire and Lord Darth Webber want.  Oh, if I were in charge…!  But it’s not my decision…”

            Christine could sense a very powerful ally, and an unbelievably powerful insider, in Sgt. Greaves.  If the rebels could have a mole inside The Empire, and if the mole was the assistant P.A. to Lord Darth Webber!…

            The Princess’s thoughts were cut short when she was ushered into a small prison cell.

            “Ah, Princess Christine Daae.” Lord Darth Webber hissed with delight as he emerged from the shadows.  “The Leader of The Rebel Campaigners.  Forgive me if I don’t bow before you.”

            Christine was straightforward.  “What do you want with me?”

            “Information, my Dear Songbird.  And I have a small proposition for you, as well.”

            “Like the deals and promises of The Empire are any good.” The girl shot back.  “That’s what started this war!”

            “I don’t care who started this war.  I’m interested in ending it.  Where are the rebels located?”

            “I won’t tell you.”

            “I think you will.”

            “I’ll never betray the campaign!”

            “Princess Daae, you’ll tell me where your friends are,” Darth Webber hissed, “Or things will get very, very ugly.”

            Christine didn’t think anything could be uglier than Darth Webber’s face, but the threat still sent shivers down her spine.  “There’s nothing you can do to the Phantom movie that isn’t worse than not casting Mike Solo-Singer.”

            Greaves averted her eyes and Christine could sense that the officer knew there was something worse.

            “If you want to help the movie, Princess, you’ll listen to my offer.”

            The girl cautiously raised an eyebrow.  “What offer?”

            “I have selected a Phantom.” Darth Webber explained.  “But I need someone to play your part.  I want that someone to be you.”

            Princess Daae drew a breath of shock, backing away.

            “Think of it, Daae.” Darth Webber cooed.  “It would be your greatest triumph!  ‘The Phantom of the Opera’ starring Princess Christine Daae.”

            “I won’t sing unless The Phantom is Mike Solo-Singer.”

            Darth Webber was losing his patience.  “You have two options, girl: be in my movie and I’ll spare your friends.  Refuse me and you send them to their death.  This is your choice.  This is the point of no return!”

            And Darth Webber stormed out of the cell with Greaves close on his heels.

            Princess Daae sat down on the floor, trying to fight the urge to cry.   She’d been in worse situations before, right?  Singing in this movie should be no big deal.  It was just another part.

            “But this decision could be the death of my friends.”

            Christine’s thoughts turned towards Erik Catwalker.  She couldn’t turn him over to The Empire, but she couldn’t betray him, or Mike Solo-Singer, by agreeing to star in Darth Webber’s movie.

            She hung her head.  “Twisted every way…  What answer can I give?  Am I to risk my life to win the chance to live?  Can I betray the man who once inspired my voice?  Can I become Darth Webber’s slave?  Do I have any choice?  The Empire will kill without a thought.  They murder all that’s good.  I know I can’t refuse and yet, I wish I could.  Oh God, if I agree, what horrors wait for me in this: Darth Webber’s opera?”

            “Getting aboard Darth Webber’s ship is going to be difficult.” Sgt. Vi explained to the rebels.  “So this calls for an all out attack against The Empire.”

            “Do you really think that’s wise?” Raoul asked.

            “There’s no other option available.” Lt. Dale shot back.   “Now, Catwalker, Solo-Singer, and The Wussie will take The Millenium Gondola and sneak into Darth Webber’s ship via the shipping and receiving dock.  The Grinning Yellow Squadron will provide cover for The Millenium Gondola should it fall under attack.   The Spinning Red Squadron will attack The Empire in full force and from head on.”

            Vi smiled.  “The Empire isn’t expecting us to strike, so we have the element of surprise.  And remember, The Empire may be powerful, but our strength lies in our number, our endless allies, and the power of the Voice.  We will not give in until the wrongs have been righted, until the giants fall, until all Phantom menaces have been blasted from the universe!”

            The entire ship went up with a cheer.

            “Alright, Squads,” Dale waved, “Move out!”

            Erik, Raoul, and Mike boarded The Millenium Gondola and set the course for The Warner Empire.

            Raoul glared at Mike.  “How do we know you’re going to be any help to us?”

            Mike shrugged.  He honestly didn’t know.

            “Firstly,” Erik explained, “He was the original Phantom and was cast in the movie in the first place.  Secondly, my Christine believes in him.  But most importantly, he has the power of the Voice.”

            “What’s ‘the Voice?’” Mike asked.

            “The Voice is the ultimate power of The Phantom.  It is the most pure, clear, beautiful vocal quality in the entire galaxy.”  Erik hung his head. “And unfortunately, it’s a nearly extinct art form.”

            Raoul rolled his eyes.  “Looks are more important.”

            “Absolutely.” Erik retorted. “That’s why Christine fell in love with me, isn’t it?”

            He turned back to flying the ship, muttering to himself.  “(Arrogant aristocrat.)”

            “Don’t you know anything about The Phantom of the Opera?” Mike asked Raoul.  “Like, looks don’t matter?”

            The Wussie stared at him blankly.  “What do you mean?”

            “Never mind.” Mike turned towards the window and his eyes went wide as Darth Webber’s ship came into view.  “Oh…my God…”

            “Warner Empire, dead ahead.” Erik announced.

            Sgt. Vi came in over the radio.  “Don’t worry, guys.  The Yellow Squad’s got ya covered.”

            “Thanks, Vi.” Erik said.  “We’re goin’ in.”

            And The Millenium Gondola started into The Empire’s shipping and receiving dock.

            “Is this a good idea?” Raoul asked.  “Maybe I should stay here so that when you guys come back with Christine, I’ll have the ship ready to go, ok?”

            “This is why we all call him ‘Raoul the Wussie.’” Erik grinned at Mike.

            Raoul cowered behind the pilot’s seat.  “I am not a wussie!”

            “Get up.” Mike said.  “There’s not even anyone here.”

            Suddenly, a blue man appeared out of nowhere.  He was wearing a red pair of long underwear, his black hair was slicked back to a point with white hair streaking through in the form of a lightning bolt, and he had a stupid giant grin on his face.

            He tapped on the driver’s side window of the ship.

            “Hello-oo!” He waved with a really annoying voice.

            Raoul covered his head with his arms.  “Oh, God, The Empire is worse than I thought!”

            Erik rolled down his window and the blue man poked his head into The Millenium Gondola.

            “Hi, I’m Freakazoid.” He grinned.  “I have to check your cargo, ok?  I’m looking for bombs, missiles, and fruit.”

            Before anybody could say anything, Mike leaned forward.  “We’re here to audition for The Phantom of the Opera movie and we were told to park in here because the front lot is full.”

            Freakazoid slapped his forehead.  “Of course!  Auditions are today.  First right, second left, and straight on down the hall.  You can’t miss it.  Hey, do you want me to park your ship?  I just got my driver’s license.”

            “How old are you?” Mike asked.

            “I’m sixteen.  Can I drive the ship?  Please, please, please?  I’ll park it with no charge.”

            “Uh, sure.” Erik tossed him the keys.  “Just make sure we get her back in one piece.”

            “Woo-hoo!”

            Erik quickly ushered his companions down the hall, trying hard not to look back at his ship.

            “What a weirdo.” Raoul said, referring to Freakazoid. “He must not have taken his Ritalin this morning.”

            As the three rebel campaigners made their way down the hall, they noticed the line for the movie auditions was surprisingly long.  However, they also noticed that a large part of the Phantom hopefuls were cartoon characters from various shows made by The Empire.

            “This is more than just a little disturbing…” Mike commented.

            They watched as Yakko, from Animaniacs, warmed up.  The tune was “Music of the Night,” but the lyrics definitely weren’t.  “Floating, soaring…  This song is really boring…  Daa-dum, daa-dum…  The audience is snoring…*”

(*Author’s note: This actually was in Animaniacs, even though I don’t have the lyrics exactly right.  An entire 15-min. episode was dedicated to making fun of ALW and his musicals, something about how all his shows are boing and ALW blames their failure on anyone he can find.  There was also another episode like this in Pinky and The Brain, although I didn’t see that one.  Hmm, if Warner Bros. doesn’t respect ALW, as was displayed in their shows, then maybe that’s part of why Phantom is being changed?…)

Erik felt sick.  “Let’s keep moving.  We have to find Christine!”

“(Psst!)” A voice called from the shadows.  “(She’s down this way.)”

Erik approached the shadows, but found no-one.

“This could be a trap.” Raoul said, uneasy.

Mike pushed him down the dimly lit path. “Get your rich, wussie butt moving and stop complaining!”

Lord Darth Webber tried not to cringe as he listened to the Phantom hopefuls audition.  At that particular moment, he was trying to listen to Wakko, also from Animaniacs, sing “Memory” from Cats.  But, just as with Yakko, the lyrics weren’t right.

“Midnight, all the kitties are sleeping.  I sneak down to the kitchen for a small midnight

snack - ”

            Darth Webber cut him short. “Very nice.  I’ll keep you in mind.  Next!”

            One of the ship’s officers entered and whispered a message to his commander.

            Darth Webber rose to his feet, furious, his face beat red.  “What do you mean,'The rebels are here?!’"

            Princess Daae felt the ship rock violently as the Red Squadron opened fire on The Empire.  In the hallway, she heard the shouts of the surprised crewmen as they scrambled to their fighter ships in an effort to create some kind of a counter-attack.

            The ship rocked again, throwing Christine to the floor.  She landed painfully on her right side.

            Darth Webber stormed into the shipping and receiving dock to find Freakazoid playing with The Millenium Gondola like it was a brand new toy.

            “Ship goes up, ship goes down.  Ship goes up, ship goes down.  Ship goes up - …ooo!  A holder for a Big Gulp!”

            “Freakazoid!” Darth Webber fumed.  “What do you think you’re doing?!  You let the rebels aboard our ship!  Why isn’t Batman on duty?!”

            “Relax, Batman left me in charge so he could go audition.”

            Darth Webber raised an eyebrow in interest and curiosity.  “Really?  Batman wants to be The Phantom?”

            Freakazoid nodded.  “And I didn’t let any rebels on board.  Just three guys who wanted to audition.  One was all dressed up for the part, too.”

            Steam poured from Darth Webber’s ears.  He knew whom Freakazoid meant.  Erik Catwalker…

            Princess Daae tried to sit up as pain throbbed in her right side.

            There was a sharp knock on her cell door.

            “Who’s there?” She asked, worried.

            A soft voice replied, “(I’m here: The Phantom of the Opera!)”

            The Princess broke into an uncontrollable grin.  “Erik!”

            “Hold on, my Angel.  I’ll have you out of here in just a second.”

            And after a few moments, Erik successfully picked the lock on the cell door, the three rebels entering the tiny prison.

            Raoul extended his arms.  “Christine, my Darling, I was so worried about -”

            The Princess was immediately in Erik’s arms.

            “…you.”

            “Are you hurt?” Erik asked, noticing his beloved holding her side.

            Christine shook her head.  “I’ll be alright, but we have to get out of here.  Darth Webber will kill you if he finds you.”

            She turned to Mike and smiled softly at him.  “Mike Solo-Singer.  Welcome to The Phantom Movie Campaign.”

            “It’s an honour, Your Highness.” He bowed.

            Erik peered into the hall.  “It looks like the coast is clear.  Let’s go.”

            Sgt. Greaves jogged down the back passages of the abandoned lower decks, a brown package tucked safely under her arm.  She knew her actions would result in her immediate termination, but she didn’t care.  She had to get to Princess Daae and the rebels before they fled the ship!

            “The receiving dock is back down this way.” Christine led.

            The small group turned a corner and stopped short.  Waiting for them was a small army of Darth Webber’s soldiers.

            The four promptly turn and ran.

            “What are we gonna do?!” Mike cried.

            “Fight back!” Raoul responded.

            “How?!”

            “You’re Mike Solo-Singer.  Hit them with a showtune or something!!”

            A shot from a laser gun whizzed past their heads, nearly grazing Princess Daae’s ear.

            “Whatever you sing, sing it fast.” She cried.

            Only one song came to Mike’s mind.  Nervous, he began to sing it.  “Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation…”

            Darth Webber’s troops froze in their tracks, mesmerized by the beautiful tenor voice.

            “Darkness wakes, and stirs imagination…”  Mike glanced at his friends and Christine gave him an approving nod.  Filling with confidence, Mike Solo-Singer mentally stepped once more into the role of The Phantom of the Opera.  “Help me make the music of the night.*”

(*Think “The Music of the Night” as sung by Michael at the beginning of his concert.)

            Erik ushered Christine and Raoul down the hall to The Millenium Gondola.   “Raoul, take Christine on board and prepare for departure.  I’m going to go back to help Solo-Singer fight off The Empire’s troops.”

            Christine gently took hold of Erik’s arm.  “Be careful, ok?”

            “Don’t worry, my Angel.  I’ll come back to you.”  And he disappeared down the hall.

            “Lord Darth Webber, Sir,” A captain reported, “Erik Catwalker has been spotted in section B5 on the lower decks.”

            Darth Webber stormed down the hall.  “I’m going to end this intergalactic war once and for all.”

            When Erik returned to Mike, he found that the entire troop of Empire soldiers was sitting on the floor, listening to Mike with rapt attention.

            “Solo-Singer, you have to get to the ship.” Erik instructed.

            “But the troops want to hear me sing ‘On Eagle’s Wings.’”

            “After the intermission.  Now go!”

            Darth Webber stepped into the hallway.  “Your flight has just been cancelled.”

            Erik pulled the length of rope from his cloak.  “Mike, take the ship.”

            “I won’t let you fight The Empire alone.” Mike protested.

            “Forget me.  Forget all of this.”

            Darth Webber powered up his weapon: a light saber.  The soldiers rose to their feet.

            “Leave me alone.” Erik instructed.  “Forget all you’ve seen.”

            The troops began to advance on the rebels, but still Mike wouldn’t leave.

            “Go now.  Don’t let them find you.  Take the ship; leave me here.  Go now; don’t wait.”

            “But -”

            “Just take it and go, before it’s too late.” Erik pushed Mike towards the docks.  “Go.”

            Darth Webber swung at Mike, but the rebel campaigner managed to duck out of the way.

            Catwalker pointed down the hall.  “Go now!”

            Terrified, Mike took off towards the ship.

            “Go now and leave me!” Erik Catwalker’s cry echoed down the corridor, cut short only by the static of Darth Webber’s light saber striking him.

            “We’re leaving.” Raoul ordered.

            “But we can’t!” Princess Daae protested.  “We have to wait for Erik and Mike!”

            “They can find their own way back.” The Wussie snapped.

            “Why, you arrogant little shi-”

            “Princess Daae, wait!” A lone figure rushed onto the docks.

            “Sgt. Greaves!” Christine gasped.

            Breathlessly, Greaves handed her the package.

            “What’s that?” Raoul asked, suspicious.

            “There’s no time to explain.” Greaves shook her head.  “The Empire is hunting you to kill.  You have to get out of here.”

            “I don’t trust you.” Raoul stated.  “You yourself work for The Empire.”

            “I was the one who led you to your princess, and you doubt me?!”

            Princess Daae took hold of the Sgt.’s hand.  “I trust you.   Greaves, come with us.”

            “I can’t.”

            Just then, Mike burst through the doors.  “Darth Webber is on his way here!  We’ve got to go!”

            Christine looked around.  “Where’s Erik?!”

            Mike ushered her inside the ship.  “Christine, come on!

            Raoul shut the doors and Sgt. Greaves disappeared back into the shadows, opening the dock hatches as she went.

            When Darth Webber stormed onto the docks, he found it was empty and that The Millenium Gondola was already on its way to the other side of the galaxy via the hyperdrive.

Mike Solo-Singer set the ship on autopilot and retreated to the “den.”  He found that Raoul and Princess Daae were busy pouring over a manuscript that was spread out on the table.

            “I just got off the radio with Vi.” Mike turned a chair backwards and plopped down in it, his arms folded over the back.  “She and Dale are going to relocate the Web Base so The Empire can’t find us.  What are you looking at?”

            “The package Sgt. Greaves gave me.” Christine responded.   “It’s the new script for The Phantom Movie.”

            Mike started to shuffle through some papers.  “Hey!  Some of these are Darth Webber’s production notes!  Listen to this: ‘Music of the Night.  Note: Transpose down three keys.  Cut second verse, first bridge, third verse.  Shorten ending.’”

            Christine picked up another sheet.  “‘Finale.  Note: Cut Phantom’s sung part.  Replace with spoken dialogue.’”

            “‘Title song.  Note: Transpose down two keys.  Pick up tempo.’”

            “‘Phantom.  Note: must be younger actor.’"  Christine cringed, "‘Christine.  Note: Preferable age - 15 to 17.  Give role to Charlotte of Churchtown?’”

            Mike fought the urge to heave in disgust.  “These revisions suck!   Why is Darth Webber doing this?”

            “He’s probably trying to adapt the script and score to better fit his Phantom.” Christine thumbed through the manuscript.  “Help me find his casting list.”

            Raoul shook his head.  “Wait a minute.  Darth Webber already chose a Phantom?  But he was holding auditions when I came to rescue you.”

            “We.” Mike corrected.  “I bet you anything that those auditions were only to make it look fair, and not like Darth Webber was playing favourites.”

            Christine picked up a list and her face went pale.  “(Mon dieu…)”

            “What?” Mike asked.  “Princess, what’s wrong?”

            “‘The Phantom of the Opera will be played by Habla-le-Strut.’”

            Mike’s mouth dropped open.  “Habla-le-Strut?!  The guy who was in The Mask of Zorro?   The guy who was in that questionable film version of Evita with Queen Madonna of Coneyland?  That Habla-le-Strut?!”

            “‘To be directed by Kapoor-Star-Stalker.’”  Christine’s bottom lip began to tremble and she suddenly rose to her feet and bolted out of the room.

            “These revisions are good for my character.” Raoul said, obviously not taking notice of what had just transpired.

            Disgusted by The Wussie's comment, Mike followed The Princess, catching up with her on the promenade deck.  Christine was staring silently out the window.

            “This ship never ceases to amaze me.” Mike said, trying to break the tension.

            “Erik always knew how to live and travel in style.  Mike,” Christine turned to him, “What happened?”

            He took a breath, hesitant to begin.  “We were leaving for the ship when we were cut off by Darth Webber.   Erik ordered me to leave, but I refused.   I didn’t want him to fight alone.   Darth Webber swung at us.  I managed to jump away and escape down the hall, but Erik refused to follow and he…”

            Mike’s voice trailed off.

            Christine turned back to the window, her eyes filling with tears.  “He gave his life to save us…”

            With a mournful wail, The Princess threw herself into Mike’s arms and he held her as she wept.

            Mike Solo-Singer stared at the movie cast list that was still in Christine’s hand and he suddenly filled with rage and hate towards The Empire.  He glared out the window.  So, it is to be war between us.  If our demands are not met, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur!  

Finis, pour maintenant…

(End, for now…)  

This story is a work of fiction.  Nothing contained in the above story was intended to be mean, spiteful, or hateful; just artistic. 

Starlight Express, Cats, Evita, and The Phantom of the Opera and any (accurate and true) lyrics used in the above story are copyrighted and owned by Really Useful Group, LTD, and were not used with permission (I’m a thief, I know.). 

Freakazoid, Animaniacs, and Batman are copyrighted and owned by Warner Brothers and again, were not used with permission. 

Star Wars is copyrighted and owned by George Lucas (I think), and as with everything else, was not used with permission. 

The Mask of Zorro and The Terminator are copyrighted and owned by someone and were not used with permission blah, blah, blah… 

The opening spoiler is owned by The Michael Crawford Phantom Movie Campaign and was (!) used with permission (Thanx a bunch, Di.  You’re a sweetie!  >^_^< ). 

The above story was my first crossover story, not to mention the first thing that I ever wrote purposely for someone else (which meant that it actually had to be good!).  I’m sure it probably isn’t as great as it should have been/can be, so I apologize and promise that I’ll try to make the next installments better. 

The above work was intended for non-profit entertainment for The Michael Crawford Phantom Movie Campaign and was brought to you by the twisted, warped mind of “Mishi, The EFX Mistress.” 

Questions, comments, flames?  Send them to Mishi, The EFX Mistress: TheEFXMistress@hotmail.com