Phantomly duties
Doctor Shakespeare
Back Of Stage
(OOC - I realise that for the first bit of the first scene, I don't
appear, but I've not posted for a while (due to reasons beyond my
control *hisses at yahoo*) and so I felt I should make more of a
contribution, anyone feel free to post the bit before this.)
Shakespeare stood behind the red curtain watchign the other actors
and actresses do their parts. He glanced over his makeshift copy of
the script (written on the back of an inflight magazine) and looked at
his lines once more, blinking hard and desparetely trying to relax.
It had been far too long since his last proper performance, and this
was just a rehearsal, what would he be like on the main day?
"Focus, William, just focus. Thou cans't do anyrhing when thy mind
sets in formation."
'Unless it's this,' his mind replied. He scowled, and walked over
to the prop's bucket. Pulling out his mask and cowl, he slipped them
on and walked back to the area of the curtain where he was due to
appear. He watched as Keto, as Raoul tried to charm Christine to
having dinner with her. "Christine replies in the negative,"
Shakespeare murmurred, getting ready. "She is alone, and then that's
my cue."
Shakespeare slowly walked out onto the stage. At once, as had
happened during the audition, the world shapesfited around him. The
faces of Stewie and Tara disappeared and his view altered.
He was now standing on the opera stage, facing Christine. He felt
as the Phantom felt, thought as the Phantom thought. He WAS the Phantom.
He slowly walked towrads Chrsitine, who looked at him witha mixture
of both happiness, and apprehensiveness.
"Oh, Dumas, you're here," she said to him.
The Phantom stopped, and looked upwards into the air, before looking
back at Christine, a look of jealousy across his face.
"Who would that have been?"
Chrsiitne turned to look at where Raoul had left the opera's stage.
"He? He was just an admirer. No one special," she lied, her heart
already beating a different way when she thought of the young man who
had tried to serenade her.
"Are you to teach me some more today, Phantom?" she asked, clasping
her hands together, and walking closer to him.
The Phantom retreated back a few steps and turned away from Christine.
"Yes, we must continue with your lessons. You are good, but not as
good as you could be. Your voice still falls flat on certain notes,
notes that should invoke passion and love," he said, turning back to
face her halfway trhough his sentence. Christine looked down,
slightly hurt by his words.
"Come Child, we practice at my hideaway," he said, extending out a hand.
She carefully took it, and the Phantom lead her down off the opera
stage and into the back.
Christine and the Phantom walked through passageway after passageway
into the bowels of the opera house.
"The length we have travelled," Christine began, "We must surely be
one hundred miles under Paris, Phantom."
The Phantom stopped and turned to Christine, who was trying to duck
and get away from the dank and moudly walls of the tunnels.
"Nay, my dear, for we are only but in the lesser known areas of the
Opera house."
They walked a few feet more until they entered an opening with a
large room tunnelled into the earth. Chrsitine stared in awe at it.
There was a large organ at one end, and a small pile of sheets next to
it. On the other side she could see a painting of a familiar woman in
a bridal dress.
"This," said the Phantom, sweeping his arms around in oen motion,
"is my home."
Christine closed her mouth and walked forward slowly, trying to get
a better look at the paiting. She stopped and gasped, her mouth
falling open aagin, when she could see the face clearly. It was her.
Her eyes closed and she dropped to the floor, fainted.
The Phantom cursed and stepped forwrad takign her shoulders in his
hands and running his ahnd through her hair.
"Excellent! Excellent Shakespeare," called Stewie. The Phantom
shook his head, and the scene dissolved. His charcter slipped away,
and Shakespeare knelt in it's place, holding Tara's head in his hands.
He looked down to see Tara opening her eyes. He pulled her to her
feet and looked around at the stage he now stood on. The organ had
become a collection of eight stacked cardboard boxes, the bed was a
pile fo old curtains, and the painting was a memorial picture of
Captain Cannon and his rat, Bobo.
Shakespeare looked back down to see Stewie standing in the audience
alone, with his hands on his hips and a large smile on his face.
"That was excellent guys and gals," he said.
"Thank thee, sir," said Shakespeare. He sighed. He'd really gone
into character that time, it had felt almost as if he was the Phantom.
He made a small mental note to get checked with the ship's
psychiatrist, before remembering there wasn't one.
Then, he turned and walked into the backstage area once more to find
the next part of his script.
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Toaster: This is cruel, just cruel.
Dave Lister: I'm busy!
Toaster: Oh, you're not busy eating toast, are ya?
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