Phantom of the Opera 1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Hair-ibal/Think of Mane/Angel of Hairstyles/Little Lottery/Phantom of the Blow-Dryer.**

Hello, I am Christine Daae's excellent, chocolate brown hair. Aren't I pretty and silky and—oh! Look! There's Carlotta's hair! Hi Carlotta's hair!

Carlotta (singing in full Hannibal garb, about to get the scenery dropped on top of her): Thiiink of Meeeee, think of me foooondly when we've said GOOOOOOOOOOOOD BYYYEE!

Yeah, I feel very bad for poor Carlotta's hair, always suffocating under those ugly, uncomfortable wigs. Imagine wearing a corset that is two sizes too small, size FIVE shoes, and a push up braw that you wore before hitting puberty…then you can multiply that by six and then you shall have some idea of what that woman's hair has had to put up with.

Anyway…I am thankful not to be on that evil head. I am here, in Christine's nice and empty one. Plenty of room, occasionally she'll make me catch fire, which is very unpleasant—note to the readers, be careful when lighting candles in a very dimly lit chapel, especially when having near-orgasms with the "Angel of Music."

So yeah, I'm just waiting here for Christine to finish rehearsal, I really don't like this gold thingy that she—hey wait! She's singing! Cool! She sinks perdy…

Christine: Think of me…think of me fondly when we've said…COUGH COUGH COUGH! GAG! COUGH!

Oops…sorry Christine, I kinda got tied up in your throat there,…I'll just…inch myself out. There you go. Good as new…The managers don't seem to mind, they're smiling. Ew, that guy's weird Mohawk wing is really ugly! Ok. Now, they're drooling over that Meg girl…she has nice hair, for extensions. Oh come now, what did you think? Please, those tresses aren't real!

Me, on the other hand…well I'm all natural, baby!

---Hannial debut, Gala night!---

Oh, this is SO cool! Look at all those people in the audience. These stars are a bit uncomfortable though. I've got to remind Christine to stop using that nasty gel thing, it burns in these theater lights. Oh well, could be worse, I could be all flowy and foppish like the guy who came in during rehearsals the other day. Raoul was it? I don't remember him as a "childhood sweetheart." She's making that up. Whatever, I'm tired, I want to go to the dressing room. Bye-bye

(hair jumps off of Christine's head, she runs off stage in a hustle trying to catch up with it.)

Christine: Oh my goodness! (running to catch up with hair, finally grabs it while standing in the Chapel with her father's memorial candle). There you are! (takes hair, fixes it tightly on head) STAY!

Hair: Yeah, yeah, easy for you to say! YOU weren't getting seared by hot lights! Oh! Blondie! Hi miss extensions!

Meg's hair: Hey! Who are you calling extensions (proudly) I've been growing for years! Naturally!

Christine's hair: Sure, that's what they all say!

Christine: (morosely) Meg, my father said that he would send the angel of music to guard and guide me after his death.

CH: (frustrated groan) This girl really needs to let her brain in on what her mouth is doing. Ahem…just so no one gets confused here, _I_ have not, nor do I plan on, looking for Angels of music in the near future. Thanks.

MH: Good, 'cause your girl is loony (makes crazy face with Meg's curls)

Christine: Meg, I think your hair is making fun of me.

Meg: (worried) O…k…maybe I should get mother, you seem…disturbed.

Christine: (eye twitch) What? Disturbed….? You believe me right?

Meg: (backs away slowly) Sure….(runs the other way screaming) Mom!

Giry: (coming from seemingly no where) Come with me Christine.

Christine: (shocked) Where'd you come from?

Giry: er...uh…inside your mind?

Christine: (innocently) OK. (smile blankly)

Meg: (whispers to Giry before breaking into a panicked run once more) She's…uh…talking about Angels of Hairstyles…

Giry: (blinks) What? (continues with some puzzlement, shrugs off Meg's paranoid statement, ushers Christine to Carlotta's dressing room). Here you are dear, enjoy! (hands Christine rose)

CH: (exhausted) ARG! What now? Oh no! It's Foppy McFoppfop! Now, he's talking about…who the Hell is Little Lottery? Oh! Speaking of, I heard the jackpot is up to twenty million francs! (takes out lottery ticket) Oh, I hope this wins…I'll buy a nice piece of real estate on Reyer's head, I hear the place is up for sale, the current owners are already starting to move out.

Christine: Raoul, I can't the Angel of Music is very strict.

CH: (gasps) Again with the doggone Angel! Get a life girl! He's a freaking guy! A regular man, perhaps with voyeuristic tendencies…possibly pedophilia,…and all. But still a regular, red-blooded HUMAN MAN! Even _I_ know that…and I'm only DEAD PROTEIN CELLS! (starts to fume with rage)

Raoul: (confused) er…uh…Christine—

Christine: (determined) Raoul, I just can't go out with you. Please don't ask again.

Raoul: (pointing at Christine's head) No, it's just—

Christine: (interrupting him again…smoke coming from head) I'm sorry, but my Angel—

Raoul: (finally tilts her head to mirror…sees her hair is steaming) You're smoking!

Christine: (still not seeing mirror) Well thank you but—(finally looks at hair on fire) ACK! WATER!

Raoul: (finds vase of roses, dumps it over Christine's head)

Christine: (soggy and irritated, glaring at Raoul) Thanks a lot, fop.

Raoul: (sheepish grin) Two minutes, little Lotte…(exits quickly)

Sorry bout that, guys, I guess that hair gel really is more of a hazard than I thought. And one can never underestimate the actual occurrence of these spontaneous combustion phenomenons. Anyway, now I'm wet and wild. WOHOO! LOOK AT ME! Now, I think I'll curl gracefully around her shoulders…give those Mary-Sue writers something to drawl on about for paragraphs on end. Luscious curls, waving locks, cascading tendrils…take your pick. I'm all of that and a bag of chips, baby!

Oo…creepy voice in dressing room.

Oo…creepy face in mirror.

Uh…Angel of whats-it?

DUN….DUN! DUN! DUN! DUN! DUN!

Oh! I LUV the electric guitar…even though they have not been invented yet. Still totally awesome though. SO COOL!

Oh…this girl is something, one minute she's all whiny…(mimics Christine) "oh poor me, my daddy's gone" then she's all "Oh my angel this, my angel that" and then she's like "take me, fop, you're so amazing" and NOW she's ga-gaa over the guy with the wicked awesome torch (yeah…I said it! SO WHAT! Phallic symbols rule::A/N: I apologize for that, Christine's hair is…_special_).

Phantom: _Sing my Angel of Music! Sing for me alone!_

Ooh…chills, I can feel my tips curling already. At least we'll have fun tonight Christine! Well, hopefully for real and not just some pseudo-erotic experience via soprano/alto duet.

**Please R&R…I'll finish Phantom of the Opera and Music of the Night next chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Phantom of The Blow Dryer (cont.)/Music of The Anti-Frizz/Magical Peroxide Bottle/I Remember There Were Wigs**

So he's going to lead her into his "mirror room" huh? Very kinky, I don't really mind. This fellow has good voice, which is not enough to get me, though Christine seems to faun for any guy who can hold an alto role.

Is she really going to have that silly look on her face the whole NIGHT? I could understand if she would have it a bit later…when they're making the uh…_Music of the Night_, so to speak (euphemisms rule too! YAY! A/N: again, it isn't me. It's Christine's hair that is the pervert).

Eww! How can she not notice all these nasty rats and spider webs! OMG! Did that candleholder just MOVE! I am SOOO getting out of her (makes to leave Christine's head, finds itself hair-pinned in place) NOOOOOO!

Well, at least I'll get to see more of this cutie-pie. That jaw-length, ebony, shining hair is just KILLING ME! Oohh…..yum… Come to MAMA! (latches on to Phantom's head with a long curl)

Phantom: Sing once aga—cough cough, choke—(peels away christine's curl which has latched onto his head) Ahem…Sing once again with me! Our strange duet, my power over you…

Christine: (stupid look on face) Gah…. Um…yeah, Those who have seen your face…

Wait? What is she talking about? "Draw back in fear"? I don't like the sound of that! Oh…electric guitar, that's so cool! We haven't even figured out how to work electric LIGHTING yet and already we have a cool guitar solo! Arg, ew, yucky, horse! Well, at least it was a short walk. OMG! What now! Where does this guy LIVE, freakin' SCOTLAND or something! (GB fans: Did she just reference Gerry? OMG:::swoon:)

Finally…we're here. This dampness is going to make me puff like one of those Carlotta "doggies." Oh well, here I go…

:hair poofs to twice its size.

Phantom: Softly…deftly…Music shall (stops mid-song) er…Christine…

Hair is now to big for christine's shoulders to support…keels over….

(PoTO fans: Wait, doesn't she faint out of shock? And isn't she suppose to wait until he finishes the song? Author: Yes, I know, but I'm too lazy to go through the entire song, sorry to the MoTN fans… oh fine, I'll let him keep singing…)

Phantom: (picks up Christine, takes her to swan bed which has a secret attachment in the shape of a hair salon chair) Nightime sharpens…heightens each sensation…and unfortunately, the dampness stirs your hair into crazy, poodle-tresses….(starts to speak like the male hairdresser from "What not to wear") Now, those tips are simply DREADFUL, full of split ends…and girlfriend (brings up forearm and relaxes wrist in the dreaded "broken wrist" syndrome) this color must GO. It is doing NOTHING for your fair complexion!

Wait, is he going to STYLE ME? OMG…YES! YES! BRING OUT THE HERBAL ESSENSES!

:hours pass:

Wait? Your skipping over the best part…he's going to blow me and style me (the hair is talking, in any other fic, that would be enough to get the NC-17 rating, but not here!)

Author: But this part isn't that important to the ALW plot…he goes on to Buquet and the Lasso scene…

Oh alright. But I'd better get extra attention during that PoNR scene…

Author: Don't worry, that is guaranteed…have you seen the movie? He virtually jams his entire face into her hair, it's quite disturbing….

Good. Ok, do the little asterisk thing…

Christine: (waking, sees new "doo" she is now a blond with straight, shoulder length hair) Phantom?

Phantom: (straightens in his seat at the organ, stops playing)

Christine: (running fingers through hair) OMG! It is so soft and swishy! How did you DO it! I can never get this much volume and it smells like LILAC!

Phantom: (doesn't turn around, letting her hand travel over his face, caressing it softly) :thinking: Hell, I may turn into the guy from WNTW when styling her hair, but I am no fool, she's hot and that feels really good!

Ohhh! I feel GOOOOODDD! Look at me! Take that Meg's hair! Blondes have more fun my ARSE! Wait, scratch that, I don't have one. Correction, _Christine's _arse! Wait, she doesn't have one either…(ALW fans: Hey! Is that a shot at Emmy! Grr..:take out pitch forks and torches…come on guys, to the author's house! Author: Guys, relax! It's not me…its christine's hair that's talking. ALWF: Ok…:settle down: Author:::snickers:)

Christine: (thinking) I remember there were wigs…

Wait? What? What is she talking about…I see no wigs around here….unless….Oh not that! Don't tell me that…! NOOOOO! It CANT BE! That's not his real hair? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! My LOVE is a fake! A mere piece of horsehair!

I have to see for myself!

Christine: (shocked expression on face as she watches a lock of her hair wrap itself around the phantom's mask and peel it off)

NOOOOOOO!

Phantom's wig: Neighs

Phantom: (fiercely) Curse you! You little prying Pandora….etc…

:Christine's hair is too overwhelmed to speak so I will have to narrate her shock at the moment:

RPH: (angrily) NOOO! You HORRIBLE tendril! You PRYING lock of hair! Now you CANNOT EVER BE _STYLED!_

Christine: (hands him back his mask) thinking: Oh sht, now I've gone and done it…

Phantom: (angrily) Come, we must return…those fools who run my theater will be missing you.

**Well, that's it, for now…tune in next time for IL MUTO and such…Did I do it justice? I really like the song PoTO, as well as MoTN, so I hope I did them justice.**


End file.

Phantom of the Opera, Humor, Parody