A long time ago in an
empire
Far, far away…
In a land called
Hollywood…
PHANTOM
WARS
Episode XI
Written by Mishi, The EFX Mistress
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a foul movie plan, lost for aeons in hyperspace, has been sighted once again. The Rebel Campaigners have been caught off guard; their attention, hitherto, focused on the creative unrest within the evil Empire.
Now a new Phantom Menace threatens to overwhelm all artistic integrity and only the great power of The Voice stands between hope and doom for the entire universe.
A defective droid, known as O-Ben-Wanna-Be-Pee-O, was originally programmed to be a writer and comedian. But, owing to years of immersion in that dank realm of Purple Spandex, his circuits are now damp and decaying.
In his latest mission, he seeks to destroy any last hope for purity within the evil Empire's ultimate secret weapon: The Phantom Movie Script.
Bleeping continuously about being a git and a fart, he has dismissed the magnificence of the original Phantom stage play as "a ridiculous story."
Likewise, the droid claims that "the face matters," when, throughout the galaxy, it is know by all that The Voice is the ultimate power.
Having sworn allegiance to Lord Darth Webber, together they threaten to hurl The Phantom Movie Script into the far reaches of a black hole in artistic space.
Meanwhile, on the lush planet of Voh-Caljeenius, far from the battle of the rebellion, our hero, Mike Solo-Singer, continues his training as a Cred-High Knight.
Traversing often the starry reaches of space, he brings solace to the hearts of many with his mastery of the Voice, and dreams of winning artistic freedom for the future of the movie musical.
The wicked Darth Maulmeyer and his Warlord Brothers now plan their final strike against the rebellion. From the depth of their creative wormhole, they have commanded Lord Darth Webber to create a celestial speed-up on The Phantom Movie. Together, they seek a possible replacement for Kapoor Star-Stalker.
Throughout the galaxy, it is rumoured that the vile villain Habla-le-Strut, disguised as Zorrotoo, is now trapped on the notorious planet of Toobizzy.
Who, then, is destined to wear the sacred mask?
Will the evil Empire redeem itself at the eleventh hour by beaming the sacred mask to Mike Solo-Singer and bring an end to the Phantom Wars?
May The Voice be with you!
The battle continues.....
-The Michael Crawford Phantom Movie Campaign
In a far corner of the universe sat a galaxy that held one lonely planet of ice and snow. Very few lifeforms ever dared to live there due to the freezing temperatures, but three figures trudged through the knee-deep snow.
“I’m freezing!” Raoul, the Wussie whined. “It’s too bloody cold out here. Whose bright idea was it to relocate the Web Base to The Sweden Galaxy, anyway?”
“Yours!” Mike Solo-Singer and Princess Christine Daae snapped.
Christine snuggled deeper into her thick fur coat. “You said this was the perfect place. ‘It’s secluded; no-one else around.’ ‘No-one ever goes there, so we’ll be safe from The Empire.’”
She shuddered, trying to control her rage.
“Where did you get that coat?” Raoul asked. “I don’t remember seeing it before.”
“Erik gave it to me for Christmas last year.” It pained The Princess to say that.
The Phantom of the Opera, Erik Catwalker, had been murdered by The Empire in their last confrontation, and Christine was not taking it well. The last thing she needed at that moment was Raoul picking a fight, which she knew he was trying to do.
The Wussie’s eyes flashed. “Well, do you have to wear it while I’m around?!”
“Stop.” Mike Solo-Singer warned. “Raoul, leave her alone.”
“He’s always like this.” Christine explained, tears welling up in her eyes. “If he didn’t get it for me, then I’m not supposed to have it.”
“It’s not like that, Christine, and you know it!” Raoul yelled.
Mike rounded on him. “Raoul, if you don’t leave her alone, I’m going to leave you out here to freeze to death!”
The Wussie immediately backed down.
Christine turned away. She didn’t want Mike to see her so upset.
“What did she see in that side-show freak anyway?” Raoul suddenly started up again.
Mike exploded. “The gentleman that you aren’t!”
The argument died to a distant buzz in The Princess’s ears.
“Wandering child, so lost, so helpless....”
Christine looked up to find someone standing a short distance away from her. She shook her head in disbelief. It couldn’t be…could it? “(Erik!)”
“My dearest Christine.” He smiled.
The Princess ran to him, feverish with joy. “Erik! Oh, I thought you were dead!”
“Angel, you must send Mike Solo-Singer to the planet of Voh-Caljeenius in The Mus-Zeek Kwalitee Galaxy.”
Christine stopped short. That wasn’t exactly what she was expecting to hear.
“There he will be trained to be a Cred-High Knight.”
“Erik, I don’t understand.”
Mike waved. “Christine, we’re going back to the Web Base.”
She turned to him. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
Christine turned back to Erik, but stopped short, finding that he was gone.
“Christine?” Mike slowly approached her.
The girl stared at the spot where The Phantom had been. “(But he was right here…)”
“Princess?” Mike gently took hold of her arm. “Is something wrong? Did you see signs of The Empire?”
“I saw… … nothing. I saw nothing. It was just a shadow.” Christine pulled her coat around her tighter.
“Come on.” Mike smiled. “Let’s go back to the base and I’ll make you some hot chocolate to warm you up.”
Taking one last lonely look at the distant mountains, Princess Daae accepted Mike Solo-Singer’s invitation.
Lord Darth Webber slowly paced before the occupants of The Warner Empire’s ship. “It seems we have a traitor in our flock.”
Sgt. Greaves shifted nervously in her chair.
“When The Rebel Campaigners snuck aboard this ship, they not only took back Princess Daae, they escaped with all of the secret plans for The Phantom Movie. They couldn’t have done this on their own. I want to know who aided them in their little…endeavor.”
No-one said a word.
“This is a very serious situation!” Darth Webber screamed. “The entire script will now have to be re-written!”
“Sir!” Sgt. Greaves suddenly rose to her feet.
Darth Webber silently stared at her.
“We might be able to find another lyricist.” Greaves hoped her trembling wasn’t too noticeable. “Admiral Kristal Ball was speaking of a droid named O-Ben-Wanna-Be-Pee-O…”
An ugly smile spread across Darth Webber’s face.
Greaves suddenly felt that things were about to get really bad.
“Princess Daae, are you ok?” Sgt. Vi asked.
Christine looked up from her computer. “Hmm?”
Vi leaned against the desk. “You seem distracted.”
“Vi, have you ever heard of a ‘Cred-High Knight?’” The Princess asked.
The Sgt. started with a blink. “‘A Cred-High Knight?’ Sure. They were part of the old order of vocalists. You know, like Frank Sinatra, the King of the Big Apple, or Gene Kelly of the Singing Rain, or The Nobleman Nelson Eddie. I’m pretty sure that Erik Catwalker was one, too, although he never admitted to it. Why do you ask?”
Christine pointed at Mike Solo-Singer, who was yelling at Raoul about how poorly The Wussie treated The Princess. “Do you think Mike should become a Cred-High Knight? Would it help in our battle?”
Vi thought for a moment before she smiled. “It’s a good idea. Where would he go to train, though?"
“‘The planet of Voh-Caljeenius in The Mus-Zeek Kwalitee Galaxy.” And Christine rose to her feet, crossing over to Mike and Raoul. “What are you two fighting about now?”
“Christine, would you please tell Solo-Singer that you love me?” Raoul asked, exasperated.
She stared at The Wussie. “You don’t know me very well, do you?”
And with that, Christine took Mike Solo-Singer into her arms and kissed him long and full on the lips. She then proceeded to turn and stalk out of the room.
Mike and Vi tried to force back giggles as Raoul fumed in rage.
Sgt. Greaves wrung her hands nervously as she and Lord Darth Webber awaited the arrival of O-Ben-Wanna-Be-Pee-O, their new lyricist.
“He better be good,” Darth Webber warned, “Otherwise The Emperor is going to have somebody’s head for letting the original plans be taken by The Rebels.”
Greaves felt sick. She had the feeling that Darth Webber knew she was the traitor.
Just then, a golden android wearing a purple spandex bicycling outfit walked stiffly into the room.
“Greetings.” He blipped. “I am O-Ben-Wanna-Be-Pee-O, the greatest lyricist in the history of the universe. I hear that you are looking for someone to write a Phantom of the Opera script.”
Darth Webber nodded. “Yes, I am. I need a film script penned for The Warner Empire, since the only copy was stolen.”
He glared at Greaves.
“I can write a script for you.” O-Ben-Wanna-Be-Pee-O beeped, waving his arms around stupidly. “I can write anything. My credentials include a novel and its musical counter-part, both about popcorn, I have done scripts for television about a stupid British man who very rarely speaks, and I have done… I have done… What else have I done? I am sorry. I am a bit of a fart and I cannot remember things. … … … What was I talking about again?”
Darth Webber waved him silent. “Enough. You’ve got the job.”
If it’s possible for an android to smile, Be-Pee-O did. “Oh, thank you, Sir! I will not let you down, Sir! You will get the greatest script in the galaxy! Now, I was thinking, at the end of the show, let us have The Phantom get his hand stuck in a teapot and Christine has to help him get it off –”
“We’ll discuss script changes later, Be-Pee-O. You’re dismissed.”
“ –but then, of course, the teapot will have to get stuck on Raoul’s hand –”
“You can leave now, Be-Pee-O.”
“ –and then Christine decides that she wants to make a cup of tea and –”
Darth Webber turned to the Sgt. with panic shinning on his face. “(Greaves, shut it off!)”
“(I don’t know how, Sir!)” The woman was obviously terrified.
One of the computer screens blipped on to display the face of one of The Empire’s captains. “Lord Darth Webber, Sir –”
“I’m rather busy right now, Captain.” Darth Webber tried to drive Be-Pee-O back with a chair as Greaves attempted to hit the android across the back of the head with a metal pipe.
“Sir, we found something interesting in The Sweden Galaxy.”
And the captain displayed a satellite photo of a planet with a giant Phantom mask built out of ice with the phrase “Solo-Singer for Phantom” stomped out next to it in the snow.
Darth Webber dropped the chair. “The Rebels!”
“Dale, we have to do something about Christine.” Sgt. Vi said to the Lt. “The girl is majorly depressed about the death of Erik Catwalker.”
“What are we s’posed to do?” Dale asked. “Hook her up with Solo-Singer?”
Vi smiled. “Why not?”
“Here, you have a note.” The computer sang, receiving an e-mail.
Vi stared, confused. “‘DWebber@WBEmpire.com?’”
“What do they want?” Dale asked.
“‘Surprise! We found you.’”
The two officers stared at each other. “Ut-oh.”
Princess Daae stormed down the hall as alarms sounded throughout the Web Base.
“The Empire found us?!” She screamed at Vi. “How the hel- …heck could The Empire find us?!”
Mike pointed. “Because Raoul had to go all artistic and build a Phantom sculpture out in the snow!”
Christine glared at The Wussie.
“We don’t have time for a fight.” Dale ushered everyone towards The Millenium Gondola. “We have to get out of here before The Empire arrives. Vi, Raoul, inside. Christine, you’re next.”
Christine folded her arms and shook her head in protest as she glared at Raoul. “No. I won’t go with that arrogant, stuck-up, spoiled-rotten brat!”
“Christine Daae!” Raoul yelled, furious, “You get your Prima Donna rear-end on this ship or I’ll –”
“Don’t you threaten her!” Mike warned. He then turned to The Princess. “Christine, you have to get on that ship. I can’t let Darth Webber take you prisoner again. Will you go? For me?”
She stared at him in disbelief.
“Please. I can’t let anything happen to you.”
“If I leave,” Christine said, “You have to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“I have your word on that?”
Mike nodded. “You have my word.”
“Then don’t follow me.”
“Princess?”
Sgt. Vi stood on the stairs of The Millenium Gondola, silent, watching Christine and Mike.
“You’re the reason The Rebels are fighting this war.” Christine reminded. “If we get caught by The Empire, and you’re on that ship, you’ll be…”
She shook her head. “I know a place where you can hide, and if you take one of our smallest ships, The Empire won’t be able to track you with their radar.”
“Hurry up!” Dale waved. “We don’t have much time left!”
“Mike, you have to go, please.” Christine begged. “There’s a small galaxy called Mus-Zeek Kwalitee. Go there and hide out on the planet Voh-Caljeenius.”
Mike shook his head. “But I can’t leave you.”
“You promised. You gave me your word.”
Mike let out a defeated sigh. “Alright. I’ll go.”
The Princess planted a small kiss on his cheek before disappearing into The Millenium Gondola without saying goodbye.
Mike Solo-Singer stormed off towards another ship, furious and flattered at the same time. “Girls…”
Sgt. Greaves deleted the e-mail warning to The Rebels before signing off the internet under Darth Webber’s user ID. She knew that sooner of later, her acts of treason were bound to be confirmed, so she better cover her tracks the best she could.
“You’ve seen the original stage version of The Phantom of the Opera, haven’t you?” Darth Webber asked Be-Pee-O.
“Oh, absolutely.” The android blipped. “But I really do not understand what all the fuss was about. It was a ridiculous story, really. The chances of a twenty year old chorus girl falling in love with an ugly, old, deformed musician is entirely unrealistic and impossible, so why The Phantom would even bother to go after her in the first place is beyond me. I did not even find the story romantic or emotionally touching. If you ask me, Christine should have gone with Raoul in the first place and –”
My God. Darth Webber thought. It’s the thing that wouldn’t shut up!
“ -the entire thing ought to be re-written for the film.”
“Are you done, Be-Pee-O?”
“The Phantom ought to be played by a young, handsome, current mega-star. Who cares if he can sing? The face matters! Christine should be about twelve years old and –”
Darth Webber shook his head. He knew he was in for a long writing session.
Greaves walked into the room. “Sir, I hate to bother you –”
“Bother me. Please, bother me!”
“ –but you have a call on video conference line one.”
“Who is it?”
“Kapoor Star-Stalker, Sir.”
With an unenthousethed wave of his hand, Darth Webber instructed the video link to be opened.
“I quit!” Kapoor Star-Stalker snapped.
Darth Webber’s mouth dropped open in shock. “You quit?! Why?!”
“I got a better offer.”
“But…but…who will direct the movie?”
Kapoor Star-Stalker turned his nose up with a spoiled aire. “I don’t care.”
“Won’t you reconsider?”
“You weren’t offering enough money for the job. You haven’t even given me a script yet.”
“That’s because there is no script!”
The computer beeped.
“Kapoor, can you hold, please? I’ve got another call.”
The picture on the video screen shifted until half the screen was occupied by Kapoor and the other half by Habla-le-Strut, who didn’t look very happy.
“You look like a nervous wreck.” Darth Webber commented.
Habla-le-Strut was on the verge of tears. “I quit.”
“What?! You, too?!”
“I’m afraid you’ll give the part of The Phantom to Mike Solo-Singer, so I’d rather quit than be publicly humiliated.”
“I’m not giving the part to Solo-Singer.” Darth Webber tried to stay calm. “I’m giving it to you.”
“The Rebel movement is too strong. They’ll strike us down the second we make a move. I quit.”
“I second that.” Kapoor agreed.
The computer beeped again.
“Guys, hold, please. I have another call.”
The view on the video conference shifted to allow room for the call from The Emperor, Darth Maulmeyer.
“Lord Webber, I am unimpressed by your progress.” Darth Maulmeyer was straight-forward. “I need you to speed up production.”
“But I just lost the director!”
“Then replace him.”
“Hmmph! Good luck.” Kapoor scoffed.
Darth Webber snapped at him. “You hold your tongue!”
“I want a celestial speed-up on this movie, Lord Webber,” Maulmeyer repeated, “Or you will be replaced.”
“And I want a guarantee that I’ll be The Phantom,” Habla-le-Strut demanded, “Or I quit.”
A captain walked into the room. “Sir-”
“What?!” Darth Webber rounded on him. “What now?!”
“We just searched The Sweden Galaxy, Sir, and found no trace of The Rebels.”
“Great. Can things possibly get any worse?!”
“You’re spending too much time and energy in trying to catch the entire rebel fleet, when you should be focusing instead on their cause.” Maulmeyer stated.
“What do you mean?” Darth Webber, Greaves, Kapoor, and Habla-le-Strut asked.
“Stop the cause, and you stop The Rebels.”
Slowly, a sickening smiled crossed Darth Webber’s face. He knew exactly what to do.
Mike Solo-Singer slowly circled his spaceship over the planet Voh-Caljeenius. “This place is nothing but forest. Why would Princess Daae send me here?”
But he trusted The Princess and landed the ship near a small lake.
As he stood on the shore surveying his surroundings, Mike felt his stomach rumble.
“Well, I guess I’m not going anywhere until I eat something.” He sighed.
And in no time, he was cooking hot dogs and S’mores over a toasty, comforting campfire.
Mike thought about Princess Daae as he ate. I really shouldn’t have left her. If something happened, who would protect her? Certainly not Raoul, the Wussie!
Just beyond the glow of the campfire, a figure moved, snapping a twig. Mike was immediately on his feet, roasting stick in hand.
“Alright, who’s there? I have a weapon, and I’m not afraid to use it!” He warned. “Come on out, you coward!”
A man dressed all in black stepped into the pale light.
“Ahh! It’s Darth Webber!” And Mike promptly turned and (accidentally) ran into the wing of his spaceship. “Oww…”
Erik Catwalker shook his head, helping Mike to his feet. “You’re way too jumpy about things.”
“Erik!” Mike stared in shock. “But, I thought you were dead!”
“Now, why would you think that?”
“Because Darth Webber struck you with his light saber. I heard it.”
“Ahh, but did you see it?”
Mike burned red with embarrassment. “Well, no..”
Erik burst out laughing, thoroughly amused. “Darth Webber isn’t even half the swordsman he wishes he was. The only thing he struck was the Punjab Lasso I attacked him with.”
“Christine misses you, Erik.”
“I know. When I saw how her eyes shined with joy when she saw me, my heart shattered to pieces, knowing that I had to be away from her.”
“Wait. You saw her?!” Mike gaped. “When?! How?!”
“I spoke with her through a holographic projection of myself.” The Phantom smiled softly, “My beloved Christine looks stunning in the fur coat I bought her, doesn’t she?”
Solo-Singer pointed. “You’re what she was looking at when we were doing our rounds on Sweden!”
Erik nodded. “And I was the one who told her to send you here.”
“Why am I here?”
“I’m going to train you to be a Cred-High Knight.”
“A what?”
“I’m going to teach you to sing like me.”
“Oh.”
“I want off this bloody ship.” Raoul complained. “We’ve been flying around the universe for months and never once have we landed on a planet.”
“Raoul, we’ve been out here for an hour.” Vi corrected, tired of The Wussie’s complaining.
“I’ll launch him out of the air ducts if you want.” Christine offered.
Dale smiled. “Sounds good to me.”
“Christine, who’s side are you on?!” Raoul cried.
“I hope Mike got away before The Empire arrived.” Vi shook her head. “I can’t even begin to imagine what they would do if they caught him.”
“Mike’s fine.” Dale comforted. “He’s a trooper, just like Erik was.”
“Emphasis on was.” Raoul mumbled.
“Raoul, shut up!”
“We can’t worry about Mike right now.” Princess Daae instructed, ticked off by Raoul’s comment. “We’ve got to find a place to hide before The Empire finds us. And I’m sure it won’t take long for them to pick up our trail.”
A call from Sgt. Greaves suddenly came through on the video link.
“That certainly didn’t take long.” Raoul glared.
“Greaves, what’s the matter?” Christine asked.
The Sgt. hesitated. “The Empire knows where you are.”
Christine spun on The Wussie. “What did you build this time, Raoul?!”
“Nothing! Why are you always blaming me?!”
“Don’t argue about it!” Greaves snapped. “I need you to come stay with me for a few days.”
“But you work for The Empire.” Dale protested.
Vi placed her hand on his arm. “No, Dale, it’s perfect. Darth Webber would never think to look for us within The Warner Empire. I can’t think of a safer place to be.”
“Well, I’m not sure about it one hundred percent,” The Lt. hesitated, “But I guess go for it.”
“Greaves, were are you staying?” Christine asked.
“Cloud City. It’s a small mining town neutral in the war, so it’s peaceful there.” The Sgt. seemed to have to force out that last line.
Raoul eyed her suspiciously.
“We’ll meet you there.” Christine decided.
Greaves nodded in approval. “I’ll have loading dock five prepare for your arrival.”
And the video call was cancelled.
“I don’t trust.” Raoul blurted out.
Dale began to have second thoughts about the Sgt. “She seemed too nervous…like she was instructed to make that call.”
“Don’t be so paranoid.” Vi scolded. “Of course she was nervous. By helping us, she’s putting her job on the line.”
“And remember that Greaves was the one who helped you rescue me” Christine reminded. “Why would she let us go only to be caught again?”
And Princess Daae set The Millenium Gondola for Cloud City, ending the conversation.
“How did you escape from Darth Webber?” Mike asked Erik.
“The same way I escaped from the mob at The Opera Populaire in The Phantom of the Opera.” Erik removed supper from the stove. “The clever use of trap doors.”
“Figures.”
“The Red Squadron fired at The Empire, causing a brief power-outage in the hallway. Taking advantage of the darkness, I ducked through a trap door, following the small tunnel until I came across an old escape pod. I hot-wired the engine and the pod started me into space. I couldn’t find any way to control the tiny ship, so I had to be content in wandering the universe. And that’s when I landed here.”
“Well, your life is never dull, is it?” Mike smiled.
Erik pointed. “Eat your supper. I have a CD I want you to start recording when you finish.”
The Millenium Gondola flew smoothly into hanger five in Cloud City. None of the citizens paid much mind, thinking it was another cargo ship making it’s supply run, but one person eagerly awaited The Gondola’s passengers to deboard.
“Thank you for coming.” Greaves said as Princess Daae approached. “I have your rooms all prepared for you.”
“You took a great risk in offering to hide us.” Vi said.
“I’m doing what I have to.”
Dale and Raoul glanced at each other out of the corner of their eyes. Both men were starting to seriously doubt Sgt. Greaves.
“You must be tired of wearing those travel clothes. I laid out some new outfits in your living quarters.” Greaves let The Rebels to a small apartment complex. “Here are you room keys. Christine, Vi, you’re in room 5. Dale, Raoul, room 31.”
As the men headed off down the hall, Christine gently placed her hand on Greaves’s shoulder, smiling at her. “You’re a wonderful friend.”
Greaves felt sick. “Why don’t you go and soak in a bath. You look like you need a rest.”
“Not bad!” Dale grinned upon entering his and Raoul’s room.
The entire apartment was decorated with various sports memorabilia, a big screen t.v., a refrigerator, and –
“A mini-bar!” Raoul cried in delight. “C’mon, help me arrange it in alphabetical order.”
“Raoul, that will take hours.”
“Forty minutes.” The Wussie corrected. “Try it.”
Never one to pass up a challenge, Dale started towards the mini-bar. “Alright, but if you’re wrong, you have to eat all the complimentary fruit, including the kiwi.”
“Same thing to you!”
Dale pointed. “You’re on, pal!”
Pulling her hair back into a loose bun, Christine stepped into a warm bubble bath. She let out a contented sigh as she sank up to her chin in bubbles and water.
Vi tapped softly at the bathroom door. “Is it safe?”
The Princess laughed. “I’m in the bath. It’s alright to come in.”
Vi walked in carrying two crystal wine glasses. “Look. Greaves left us champaign! Want some?”
“Why not?’
As she handed Christine a glass of champaign, Vi looked about apartment in awe. Unlike the stereotypical “male dorm” Raoul and Dale had, the girls’s apartment was much more sophisticated. In the bathroom: ivory floor tiles, white marble counters and bathtub, full-length mirrors, a W.C. in a joining room. And everything was lined in gold.
“This place is unbelievable.”
Christine smiled, content. “It’s almost exactly like my quarters in Erik’s underground palace.”
“Have you seen the living room and the bedrooms yet?” Vi asked and she sipped at her champaign. “Royal purple carpets, deep red throw rugs, all the furniture is made of maple and cherrywood!”
“That sounds good enough to eat.”
“There’s a baby grand piano in the study!” Vi bounced around, excited. “And satin dresses in the wardrobe!!”
Christine slapped her a high five. “Vi, we’re livin’ in style!”
The telephone started to ring.
“I’ll get it.” Vi put down her champaign glass. “Hello?…Just a minute…Christine, it’s Raoul. He wants to know if you want to go over to his place to watch the Red Wings/Avalanche game on the big screen t.v.”
Christine shook her head, a look of disgust crossing her face.
“Raoul, she says to bugger off. Put Dale on the line…Hey, what’s up?”
A grin slowly spread across Vi’s face. She tried to force back giggles as she hung up the phone.
“What’s so funny?” Christine asked.
“Dale says that he lost a bet with Raoul and now he has to eat the complimentary kiwi.”
And although neither girl understood why, they both broke into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
Erik strolled into the recording studio, leafing through the daily mail.
“I can’t get this right.” Mike sighed as he took off his headphones.
“What’s the matter?”
He handed the sheet music to Erik, pointing out the trouble spot. “I just can’t sing this right. Somehow, it just doesn’t seem to fit with the rest of the song.”
“Let me hear… … … Don’t sing it so straight. Put more emotion into your voice and let the sound be free. That’ll fix the problem.” Erik handed Mike a lettre that was bordered in blue and gold. “It seems you’ve got one, too.”
"'Dear Mike Solo-Singer,
We are pleased and excited to inform you that you are to be honoured at a special dinner to celebrate your achievements in the musical theatre. We look forward to your anticipated participation in the formidable event, which is to take place in two days time.
Signed,
The Mayor of Cloud City'"
Mike beamed, “Erik, this is great! Maybe this’ll show those morons in The Empire that the fans know true talent when they see it!”
“Careful.” Erik warned. “Don’t go getting a big head about yourself just because you were invited to a dinner.”
But Mike was dancing around the studio, too excited to listen to The Phantom’s warning. “C’mon. We don’t have much time to get to Cloud City!”
“Alright, ok, fine. We’ll go. But don’t think that you can skip your recording session. You’ll finish your CD on the flight. It’s almost done and I want to have this album available to the public as soon as possible.” Erik instructed.
And Mike did ballet leaps out the door.
Two days passed on Cloud City, and they were two days of worryless peace and happiness for Princess Daae and her small band of close rebel friends. While Lt. Dale and Raoul, The Wussie had occasional doubts about Sgt. Greaves’s loyalty, the theory of “safety with the enemy” seemed to hold up, and the boys couldn’t help but smile at the thought. They had admit: maybe things were finally looking up for The Rebel Campaigners.
“There’s going to be a special dinner tonight.” Greaves said to her guests. “I’m hoping you all will attend?…”
“What’s the dinner for?” Vi asked.
“To eat.” Greaves shrugged, becoming more serious. “Cloud City has a small festival every year. It’s nothing big, really; just a little celebration to congratulate ourselves on being a successful mining city that’s free from The Warner Empire’s control.”
Princess Daae jumped slightly at the mention of The Empire.
“(I’m starting to get this warning bells felling that Greaves can’t be trusted.)” Dale whispered to Raoul.
The Wussie stared at him. “You’re just now getting this feeling?!”
Sgt. Greaves turned to Christine. “Should I expect you all from dinner, or would you rather have the evening to yourselves?”
The Princess smiled. “Greaves, you’ve been such a wonderful hostess. Of course we’ll attend the dinner party.”
“Christine, Darling, can I talk to you for a minute?” Raoul took hold of the girl’s arm, pulling her aside.
“Don’t touch me!” Christine snapped.
“Will you get off your royal diva high horse and just listen to me for a minute?!” Raoul begged. “We can’t go to dinner.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t trust Sgt. Greaves, and Dale doesn’t trust her, either. I can’t explain why I don’t trust her, it’s just that I don’t. I just have this…feeling that something bad is going to happen if you accept any more of her ‘hospitality.’”
The Princess shook her head. “You’re just being paranoid, Raoul. Greaves helped you save me from Darth Webber, she gave us the secret plans to The Phantom Movie, and she supports Mike Solo-Singer and The Rebel Campaign! She’s not going to lead us into a trap!”
And Christine turned and stormed back to her quarters to change, Sgt. Vi hot on her heels.
“Christine!” She cried. “Princess Daae, wait! What’s the matter?”
“Raoul’s being the traditional dominating male again!” The Princess exploded.
“Boy, are you in a mood or what?”
Christine threw open the door to the apartment. “Why does he think he has the right to order me around? Who does he think he is to order me around?! Ahhrrghh! I need to throw something.”
Vi handed her a pillow from the couch. “Raoul’s just trying to look out for you, take care of you, that’s all.”
“Yeah? Well, I can darn well take care of myself!!” And she threw the pillow at an innocent potted palm. “Ooo, if Erik were here, he’d…he’d…”
“He’d what?”
Christine sank to her knees, her defense breaking. “(He’d be telling me the same thing you are.)”
“You miss The Phantom, don’t you?” Vi asked.
The Princess tried to wipe away her tears. “I can’t believe he’s gone. I’ll never see him again.”
Vi handed her a dress from the wardrobe. “He’s not completely gone. I’m sure he’s still watching over you, wherever he is.”
“But it’s not the same.” Christine stepped behind the changing screen. “He won’t hold me when I cry. He won’t sing me to sleep when I’ve had a nightmare. Erik can’t do those things anymore.”
“He’s still your Angel of Music.” Vi tried to comfort.
Christine re-emerged from behind the changing screen, smoothing the folds of her white satin dress. “Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and I think I can see him standing in the shadows of my room. Sometimes I think I can hear him singing to me through the walls… Does this dress make me look fat?”
Vi shook her head and the two started towards Cloud City’s banquet hall.
“Vi,” The Princess turned to her friend, worried, “Am I wrong for thinking those things about Erik?”
“No! Christine, you’re grieving. It’s perfectly natural for you to miss Erik and long for him to be with you. There’s nothing wrong about it.”
The girls approached the banquet hall and were immediately greeted by an upset Wussie.
“Christine, we should leave right now! While we still have the chance!” Raoul demanded.
Dale tried to be a litter nicer than his companion was. “Vi, please? I feel like we’re not safe here anymore.”
“What are you all so worried about?” Christine asked. “We are not being led blindly into a trap.”
And she threw open the banquet doors…to find Lord Darth Webber, Habla-le-Strut, and an army of Cartoon Troopers.
“Check your eyesight lately?” Raoul asked The Princess.
“Not one word, Raoul.” She warned. “Not one word.”
“Well,” Darth Webber smiled, “This is, indeed, an unparalleled delight. I had rather hoped that you would come, and now, my wish comes true. You have truly made my night.”
“How did you find us?” Vi asked, trying to keep a front of bravery.
Darth Webber put his arm around Sgt. Greaves in a buddy-buddy sort of way. “Why, the Sgt. here only followed my orders and invited you here for me.”
Greaves twisted away from the ugly Lord. “Stop…”
“I knew she was the one behind all this!” Raoul pointed.
Christine, who had been silent since she and her friends were captured, suddenly lashed out at Greaves. “I trusted you! You helped us! You supported us! I trusted you!”
“Christine, stop!” Dale tried to hold The Princess back. “There’s no use screaming about it.”
“The Lt. is right.” Darth Webber smiled. “Save your energy for when our special guest arrives.”
Vi’s eyes went wide with terror. “(Mike!)”
Erik piloted the small spaceship into Cloud City, a look of worry on his face. “I don’t see anyone here. Are you sure this is where that ‘dinner in your honour’ is supposed to be held?”
Mike nodded, double-checking his invitation. “It says it’s to be held at Cloud City. Why don’t we just park in that ramp and ask for directions?”
“I have a bad feeling about this.”
Sgt. Vi tried to calmly assess The Rebels’s predicament, as her friends were no help at all. Princess Christine was yelling and screaming at Sgt. Greaves for the Sgt. betraying The Rebels’s trust; Raoul, the Wussie was crying and blubbering like the baby he was; and Lt. Dale was sitting cross-legged on the floor, thinking up new visually stunning protest posters as he hummed the song “Makerena.”
Ok, Vi was racking numbers in her head, We’re surrounded by Cartoon Troopers, too many for the four of us to take on by ourselves. We could try to jump Darth Webber since we easily out-number him, but then we’d be jumped by the troopers. I guess the only good thing we can do is try to stall until Mike gets here to help.
The Sgt. turned to Darth Webber, gesturing to the odd surroundings of the room they were in. “So why are you holding us captive here? Why not in a dungeon or something?”
“Dunno.” The evil lord shrugged. “I thought this room would be a good place for a showdown, I guess. There’s a metal walkway over a carbonite freezing chamber, there are cool looking electronic gizmos everywhere. It’s kinda Stars Wars: The Empire Strikes Back-ish, don’t you think?”
Vi pointed at Habla-le-Strut. “So what’s he doing here?”
Before Darth Webber had a chance to answer, Mike Solo-Singer poked his head into the room. “Excuse me. I’m looking for The Banquet Hall.”
“Down the hall and take a left.” Darth Webber assisted. “Ya can’t miss it.”
“Thanks a bunch.” And Mike started off down the hall.
Vi just stood with her jaw clear down to the floor.
“Wait a minute!” Mike rushed back into the room, pointing. “You’re Darth Webber!”
“How incredibly perceptive.” Christine fumed, crossing her arms.
“And you’re holding my friends hostage!”
“Someone give the man a prize!” Christine cheered in a sarcastic tone.
Erik followed Mike into the room. “Angel, what happened to your manners?”
“Erik Catwalker!” Everyone gasped.
Raoul went white. “But,…you’re supposed to be dead!”
Darth Webber powered up his light saber. “Hail, hail, the gang’s all here.”
“Mike, here!” Erik tossed Solo-Singer a light saber.
With a furious cry, The Rebel Campaigner lunged at Lord Darth Webber. Sparks flew everywhere as the two light sabers met with a deafening crash.
“I’ll kill you for what you’ve done to The Phantom Movie, you evil slime!” Mike roared.
Erik covered his face with his hand, embarrassed. “Ohh, I should’ve taught him to fight instead of sing!”
“I’m curious, Solo-Singer,” Darth Webber battled back, “Why do you hate me so much?”
“You killed Andrew Lloyd Webber!”
Darth Webber put the tip of his light saber into the floor and leaned against the weapon, scratching his head. “Well, that’s odd. I am Andrew Lloyd Webber.”
Everyone stared in shock, jaws hanging to the floor. “What?! When did this happen?!”
The Rebels pointed at each other in confused frenzy.
“You knew, right, Vi?”
“Christine, how was I supposed to know?!”
“Somebody knew!” Dale cried.
Everyone pointed. “Raoul?!”
The Wussie threw his hands up in defense. “Hey, I blame the writer on this one!”
(Author note: This is my fault?! Oh, wait…it is…)
“I’ll tell ya what, Solo-Singer.” Darth Webber turned off his light saber. “I’ll let you audition for The Phantom Movie.”
Mike and Habla-le-Strut both took a step forward in shock. “What?!”
“Right here. Right now.”
“You really mean that?” Mike asked, cautious.
Habla-le-Strut reached out. “You can’t really mean that!”
Darth Webber gave Habla-le-Strut a wink. “Sure I do. Mike, if you sing for me right now, I’ll tape it and send it right to The Emperor.”
Mike looked to his friends for guidance.
Christine nodded to him in approval and Vi stared at him, her eyes wide with hope.
Erik gestured for him to try. “Use The Voice, Mike.”
“Alright.” Mike agreed. “I’ll sing.”
Darth Webber turned on a small, hand-held dictation machine. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“Well, here goes something… … Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation; darkness stirs and wakes imagination. Silently, the senses abandon their defe~~nce~~s~~”
Mike’s voice cracked something fierce as Habla-le-Strut snuck up from behind and punched him in the stomach.
Darth Webber clicked the dictation machine off with a wicked and sickening laugh. “I’ve got it! The once mighty Solo-Singer has fallen! Once I play this tape for The Emperor, you’ll never play The Phantom again! Bwa-ha-ha-ha!”
“But that’s not fair!” Lt. Dale protested. “Habla-le-Strut hit him!”
Fuming with an uncontrolled rage, Mike Solo-Singer lunged at Darth Webber with his light saber. “Gimme that tape back!”
All eyes were on Solo-Singer and Darth Webber as the two battled fiercely on the narrow bridge that was suspended over the carbonite freezing vat.
“You’re not Andrew Lloyd Webber!” Mike screamed.
“And why not?!”
“He would never try to destroy his own music or harm an artist’s reputation!”
Furious, Darth Webber swung at Mike. The Rebel Campaigner ducked out of the way, lost his footing…and plummeted head-first into the carbonite pit.
“MIKE!!!!” Vi rushed forward, terror shining on her face.
Darth Webber let out a laugh. “What an unexpected turn of events! Habla, you wanted a guarantee that you would play The Phantom?”
The evil Lord pushed a button on the gigantic machine and Mike Solo-Singer was raised out of the pit only to be revealed, in his ending “Music of the Night” concert pose, frozen in a block of carbonite.
“Here’s your guarantee.” Darth Webber smiled. “Greaves, you and The Cartoon Troopers escort The Rebels back to The Warner Empire’s ship. I want them to join me for dinner.”
Greaves was silent as she led The Rebels down a corridor of the loading docks, escorted by The Cartoon Troopers. The woman had hardly said a word since Princess Daae and her friends had been captured, and she began to feel more and more guilty of her role in this tragedy with every step she took.
“Poor Mike.” Dale shook his head. “What will happen to him now?”
Vi turned away, closing her eyes to try to fight back her tears.
The small group stopped at an elevator and Greaves pushed the down button.
“Where do you think The Empire will take Mike?” Christine asked in a hallow voice.
Erik just responded by holding his beloved close.
Suddenly, Greaves snatched hold of the ray gun of the Cartoon Trooper closest to her and butted him in the stomach with it. She pushed the gun vertical, the handle catching him square in the jaw.
“Run!” The Sgt. screamed at The Rebels.
They did as instructed, but Dale stopped short, seeing the troopers ganging up on Greaves. “We have to help Greaves!”
“How do we stop a cartoon?!” Raoul asked.
Dale pulled a pencil from his pocket and twirled it triumphantly. “The way you stop any drawing: with an eraser!”
The Troopers spun around with a screech.
Dale grinned a devilish grin with a chuckle. “Make one wrong move, and I’ll erase your arm.”
Erik gathered Sgt. Greaves in his arms, and all The Cartoon Troopers could do was watch.
Vi rushed off down the corridor, beckoning for the others to follow. “C’mon, let’s get outta here!”
“Take a left after the next bend.” Greaves pointed.
“Why should we believe you?!” Christine screamed. “Last time, you led us straight to Darth Webber!”
“I had no choice!” Greaves crawled out of The Phantom’s arms and stood facing The Princess. “If I didn’t do what was instructed of me, The Emperor would have ordered a termination!”
“Of your job?! Big deal!”
“Of my life!”
Raoul leaned against the wall, munching on a bag of popcorn. “Cat fight! Rrrroww!”
Dale, ever the peace-maker, stepped between the two women. “We’re not going to get anything done by screaming at each other. At least wait until we get back to our ship.”
“Wait!” Vi cried in horror. “What about Mike?”
“Habla-le-Strut is loading him into his ship on dock fifteen.” Greaves said.
“What dock are we at now?” Erik asked.
“Three.”
Dale sighed. “I hope everyone’s in the mood for a jog.”
Habla-le-Strut laughed long and loud as Batman and Freakazoid carefully loaded the frozen Mike Solo-Singer aboard the sword swinger’s ship.
“This is too good to be true!” Habla-le-Strut cried, ecstatic, in his think Spanish accent. “I think Mr. Solo-Singer will look perfect in my study next to the tank of exotic fish.”
“Solo-Singer is coming with us!” Sgt. Vi rushed onto the loading dock, followed by Greaves and The Rebels. “We stand for music and creative justice, and on behalf of The Phantom Movie, we will punish you!”
Habla-le-Strut stared at Vi, blankly. “Who do you think you are? A Sailor Moon wanna-be?”
In keeping with the true anime style, a teardrop formed on the side of Vi’s head as confusement crossed her face. “(What did he say?)”
“(Don’t ask me.)” Dale shrugged. “(I can’t understand a word he’s saying, either.)”
“Get them.” Habla-le-Strut ordered.
With lightning reflexes, Batman threw a batarang at Vi, slicing off a small section of the Sgt.’s ponytail.
“My hair!” She gasped. “Oh, that’s it. You’re gonna pay for that, you flying rodent!”
And she proceeded to rush The Caped Crusader.
Amid the hilarious brawl between the cartoons and The Rebels, Habla-le-Strut climbed aboard his spaceship and fired up the engines.
“Oh no!” Christine screamed. “He’s getting away!”
Just then, The Millenium Gondola flew up to the dock, piloted by Raoul, the Wussie, who had run like a coward when the first signs of trouble appeared.
“C’mon!” Raoul waved. “We’ll chase him better in The Gondola!”
Christine stared. “Raoul is actually doing something brave?”
Erik and Greaves pushed her towards the ship. “Just get in!”
“Everybody buckle up.” And Raoul slammed on the gas pedal, thus beginning a high-speed chase through the cosmos.
Christine stared at The Wussie, wide-eyed. I can’t
believe it. He’s actually being brave.
This is perfect! Raoul thought, catching The Princess staring. If I can stop Habla-le-Strut, maybe that’ll prove to Christine that I’m not a chicken and then she’ll confess her love for me!
Beaming, Raoul grabbed the radio mic. “Alright, Habla-le-Strut, you can’t escape. Pull over right now or we’ll- Ahh! He’s shooting at us! What’re we gonna do?!”
“Shoot back!” And Erik shoved The Wussie out of the way and proceeded to pilot The Millenium Gondola himself.
Christine threw her arms around The Phantom. “Oh, Erik, you’re so brave! I love you.”
With a furious scream, Raoul headed off to the back of the ship to kick something.
“What was that about?” Vi stared.
Dale shrugged.
Greaves pointed at the on-coming attack by Habla-le-Strut. “Here he comes again!”
Erik maneuvered The Millenium Gondola out of the way and, as he swung the ship back onto course, fired two laser beams at Habla-le-Strut, which struck the Spaniard’s vessel just above the engines.
“Got him!” Vi beamed.
Suddenly, smoke began to pour out of Habla-le-Strut’s ship.
Dale went wide-eyed. “That’s not good…”
And the ship began to plummet down towards a sand-coloured planet.
“He’s gonna crash!” Christine screamed. “Oh, God, what’ll happen to Mike?!”
“Hold on!” Erik pointed the nose of The Gondola straight down and sped towards the planet in hopes of somehow being able to stop the enemy ship.
Greaves watched the ground rush closer. “Pull up.”
Still closer.
“Erik, pull up!”
Christine grabbed at her love’s arm, pleading. “We’re going too fast to stop! Pull up!!”
Sand was thrown into the air in the shape of a mushroom cloud as the ship slammed into the surface of the planet. Shaken, but not stirred, Habla-le-Strut stumbled out of his broken ship, pulling his undamaged cargo, the frozen Mike Solo-Singer, with him. Shaking his fist at the sky, Habla-le-Strut screamed Spanish insults at The Millenium Gondola as it sped back into space.
Darth Webber marched proudly into his throne room aboard The Warner Empire’s ship.
“Admiral,” He smiled, “Page Greaves. I want her to bring me The Rebel leaders.”
Admiral Kristal Ball nervously tapped her fingertips together. “Um, Greaves isn’t here.”
“I know that. That’s why I told you to page her.”
The woman didn’t move.
“Is there a problem, Admiral?”
Admiral Ball began to back away. “Sgt. Greaves sort of…um…joined The Rebel Campaigners…Sir.”
Darth Webber spun around, furious. “She what?!”
“Ok,” Greaves pointed at a chart of the Cloud City Galaxy that was spread across the table. “Habla-le-Strut crash landed on the planet Toobizzy. All it is is a desert planet with primitive beings, so he doesn’t stand a chance in fixing his ship. He’ll be stranded there for a while. This blue planet, Hohp, isn’t too far away. We could rest there and think up a plan to save Mike.”
“Is Hohp a friendly planet?” Dale asked.
Greaves nodded. “We’ll find a lot of allies there.”
“Cool.” Christine turned to Vi. “Why don’t we have the rest of the rebel forces continue the attack on The Empire? No point in the entire rebellion attacking Toobizzy. The six of us can take one man, right?”
Vi logged on to the internet. “Right. I’ll put out a bulletin to the campaigners.”
“Can I turn on the radio?” Raoul asked.
Everyone ignored him, focusing instead on their up-coming mission.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” And The Wussie clicked on an easy listening station.
Vi froze, immediately recognizing the song that was playing: “Tonight” from Mike’s last musical, EFX.
Don’t be sad for me.
Everything is how it had to be
Don’t be angry…
Dale noticed that the Sgt. was bothered.
…someday, someway,
We’ll be the way we were tonight…
Vi ran from the room, wailing.
“What did you do this time, Raoul?!?!” Christine screamed.
“I didn’t say a word to Vi!” Raoul defended. “Why are you always blaming me?!?!”
“Will you two stop fighting?!” Dale cried, annoyed. And he got up and went after Vi. “Wait! Come back!”
The Sgt. collapsed in the hallway floor, balling uncontrollably.
Dale approached her and gently took her into his arms. “Shh, it’s alright. You can tell me what’s wrong.”
“Mike’s gone!!”
“He’s not gone. We’ll save him.” Dale dried Vi’s eyes, smiling at her. “There are still things worth fighting for. Don’t worry. We’ll save Mike, and we’ll stop The Empire.”
“Erik Catwalker!!”
The Rebels turned towards the video screen as a call from Darth Webber came in.
“You’ll return Sgt. Greaves to my custody at once!” Darth Webber ordered.
“Bite me!” Christine responded, bitter.
“Let me handle this.” Erik said. “Greaves is staying with us, Darth Webber. If you’re trying to arrest her, you don’t stand a chance.”
“She’s a traitor! She needs to be punished!”
“Bite me!” Greaves snapped.
“Return Mike Solo-Singer.” Erik demanded.
“Not a chance!” Darth Webber shot back. “He belongs to Habla-le-Strut now.”
“Return Solo-Singer and film The Phantom of the Opera movie right.”
“Never!”
“I warn you, Darth Webber, we have over sixty-eight million supporters behind us, so the rebellion isn’t as small as you think. If you take one wrong move, we could crush you and The Warner Empire like the insects that you are.”
“So be it.” Darth Webber growled. “Now let it be war on you all!”
And the call was cancelled.
Slowly, Erik clinched his fist in rage.
“Erik?” Princess Daae was hesitant to approach him. “Are you ok?”
Letting out a furious roar, Erik slammed his fist into the table. “You will curse the day you did not do all that The Phantom asked of you!!”
(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.
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,
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.
Sailor Moon is copyrighted and owned by Naoko Takuchi and DIC and was not used with permission blah, blah, blah...
The whole mini-bar/kiwi bit was taken from Michael Crawford's "In Concert CD" (and believe me, it's much better when he does it. ;) ).
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! >^_^< ).
Admiral Kristal Ball is from Crawford Triumphant, also by TMCPMC, and she made a special appearance because I wrote her in without realizing that I forgot to ask permission from the CT authors. I'm sorry, guys. I'll never do it again!
This was my second cross-over story, so I hope that it turned out a little bit better than the first chapter, since I'm just starting to figure out what the heck I'm doing! -__- zzzz (Hey, writing a cross-over is a lot harder than it looks!)
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