Cait Interviews the Phantom of the Opera (and lives)

Good evening, and welcome to another episode of “Cait does weird things in weird places.” Tonight, I’m in the cellars of the Palais Garnier in Paris, holding my hand at the level of my eyes. I am here to find and interview the infamous Phantom of the Opera.

*swish-jerk-gakh*

*gasp* Thank goodness I had my hand at the level of my eyes! That Punjab Lasso would have been a little tight otherwise. Oh, hey! Look who’s here! Erik, my man! How you doin’?

POTO: You just had to come and see where the monster lived, didn’t you? Your curiosity couldn’t be helped, I suppose. Well, now, I’m going to help you…DIE!

Cait: Wait, whoa, dude. I’m just here to help you get some good press. You know that you have a LOT of fans, or rather Phans out there.

POTO: *smacks head* All I wanted was some peace and quiet. That’s why I live underground. I don’t want to be bothered. Now, it’s like every day, I have some new group of teenage girls who are rehearsing the Phantom of the Opera for their high school musical and get transported back in time accidentally and come around here, wanting to save me. I DO NOT NEED SAVING.

Cait: No saving. Got it.

POTO: Also, I would like to say just for the record that I never endorsed “Love Never Dies.” Honestly, Coney Island? A carnival of freaks? Good lord! Just because I asked for a modest cut from The Phantom of the Opera – I mean, after all, I did inspire the thing – he has to go and try to recoup his losses with this monstrosity of a musical. A man gets hit for a measly few hundred million dollars and runs to put out the first crap that comes to mind? Bah!

Cait: So…what did happen to you after the end of the musical? I mean, according to the book, you died and were buried in the cellars.

POTO: Do I look like I’m dead? *glares*

Cait: Exactly! I mean, no, no you don’t. Right?

POTO: I expect if you are truly curious, you can read the true story of what happened to me in “Angel Hands.” Despite the oddly sentimental title, it is quite accurate.

Cait: I don’t think it’s oddly sentimental. I think it’s rather a good title.

POTO: You would.

Cait: That’s right, because I came up with it!

POTO: And didn’t even know what it meant until you were almost done with it!

Cait: Details, details.

POTO: I believe I have reached my limit of friendliness for the day. You can stay, but I expect you won’t live long if you do.

Cait: Right, then. I’ll be off. Like your mask.

POTO: Wait, what? What? Where did it go? It was just here! Oh, damn that cat! Come back here, you son of a three-pawed fleabag!

 

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