A/N: Yes, I am still alive! I did not contract a mysterious disease akin to leprosy/kill anyone and go on the run/spend several weeks thinking I was a llama/attempt to eat a very important document/fight with my duvet and lose. Of course not. That would just be silly. He he. nervous laughter
Chapter Five
SO...Way back when, we left our jolly old heroes in a bit of a pickle, didn't we?
It went something like this...
Christian moved Satine onto the bed, landing on top of her.
Just then, for the second time that night, who should walk in but...
Dun dun dun!!!
THE DUKE!
"Sorry, I forgot my socks," he explained, before noticing Christian and Satine, in a VERY compromising position. "Foul play?" he asked cheerfully, in the same manner one might ask, "Another drink?" or "Is this your ostrich?"
"Um...no..." Christian replied nervously.
Satine woke up, wondering what the hell this Randall was doing on top of her. "Not foul play, dearest Duke...it's a...um..."
"Rehearsal!" supplied Christian helpfully.
"Rehearsal!?" hissed Satine.
"I don't think well under pressure," he muttered.
"Oh, ha ha ha," snorted the Duke rather ungracefully. "And who is this?"
"The writer," said Satine, at exactly the same moment as Christian said, "The hooker."
The Duke raised his eyebrows. "Really, you expect me to believe, that inside a hippo, in the arms of another man, on a Tuesday night for Godssakes, you were rehearsing?!"
There was a long pause. Eventually Christian ventured, "Um, what does the fact that it's Tuesday have to do with anything?"
The Duke shrugged. "Question 'em, make 'em slip up," he mumbled to himself.
Satine and Christian started to back away slowly.
"Fine, fine," he said. "Anyway, aren't some random Bohemians meant to turn up about now?"
Christian looked at his watch. "They're always late," he explained. "They should be here right about...now..."
Right on cue, the door burst open and four Mad Bohemians came bursting in cheerfully.
"Hello," said Toulouse. The Duke waved nervously.
"I do hope the harmonica's in tune!" said Lightbulbhead, hitting the piano. Toulouse whispered something to him, and he smiled nervously and said, "Piano, of course, yes! I knew it was a piano!" He laughed nervously.
"So, if you're rehearsing, where's that scary dude? The one with bad hair and too much makeup?" asked the Duke interrogatively.
"What, you? You're here!" said Christian, not really helping the situation.
"There's no need to bother Harold," said Satine, who was slightly brighter than Christian.
At that point Zidler fell through the window.
"Bloody hell!" said the Duke. Everyone turned and looked at him. "What?!"
"You're English aristocracy, you're not allowed to swear!" said Christian, scandalised.
"Well, I'm going to, and you can't stop me! Nyah nyah nyah!" said the Duke, before coughing rather embarrassedly. "Uh...sorry..."
"Forget about it, dear Duke," said Zidler affably.
"Consider it forgotten," replied the Duke.
Christian sighed. "I'm bored." (A/N: Me too! Wow! We have so much in common!)
"We should have another song," suggested Zidler.
"But we can't just break randomly into song and expect everyone to know the words and the dance moves!" said Satine.
There was a long silence. Everyone stared at her. She blushed. "Oh yeah..."
"Anyway, about this play..." prompted the Duke.
"What play?" asked Toulouse, after another excruciating silence.
"You know, the one that's crucial to the entire plot of the film and therefore is meant to follow it almost exactly?" the Duke replied.
"Oh, yeah!" said Zidler. "Tell us what it's about, Christian."
There was yet another silence, broken only by the intermittent humming of Lightbulbhead. Then Christian burst out, "It's about Santa!"
"Santa?" questioned the Duke, mockingly. Everyone else just stared at Christian.
"What? I like Santa. If you don't you won't get any presents," he said defensively. "It's about Santa not being able to deliver the presents."
"And it's set in the North Pole!" shrieked Toulouse excitedly.
"The North Pole?" questioned the Duke, mockingly.
"Will you please stop doing that?!" said Satine.
"Sorry."
"IT'S SET IN INDIA!" bellowed Christian. They all turned to look at him. "Else I'm not playing."
"Isn't India a bit hot?" said Argy.
"No," pouted Christian sulkily, "it's perfect. There's an elf," here he looked lovingly at Satine, "the shortest elf in all the world. But the presents are destroyed by an evil...uh...present-destroying-machine," (he glared at the Duke) "and the elf has to switch off the evil machine! But on the morning of the switchy-offy-thingy, she meets a present-making-machine, and she falls in love with it!"
A stunned silence greeted this story. "Christian," said Zidler slowly, "she falls in love with a machine?!"
"Yes," said Christian. "And I'll tell my mummy if you're nasty about it."
"Well, we...um...won't be nasty..." said Zidler.
"How's about that song?" asked Satine in a desperate attempt to inject some cheer into the forlorn party. Unfortunately Zidler had to sing...however, he DID try his best.
"Craptacular, Craptacular,
No words that can be printed here
Can describe this travesty
Of artistic literacy!
And don't bring your whole family
There's things the kids don't want to see
And on top of free ice cream..."
They all joined in...
"You'll get to sleep with Miss Satine!
"So inviting
Invites will be sent to all
So happening
Come along, you'll have a ball!
So inviting
Invites will be sent to all
So happening
Come along, you'll have a ball!"
Various Randalls sung the next few lines, interspersed with actions...
"Christmas trees!"
"The First Noel!"
"Santa Claus!"
"A Christmas bell!"
"Fairy lights!"
"and tinsel chains!"
"Pretty elves!"
"Present machines!"
They all joined in again:
"Drunken uncles, drunken aunts,
Drunken father's drunken dance,
Turkey sprouts and Christmas pud...
"Oh, the ingeniousity!
"So inviting
Invites will be sent to all
So happening
Come along, you'll have a ball!
So inviting
Invites will be sent to all
So happening
Come along, you'll have a ball!
"Craptacular, Craptacular
No words that can be printed here
Can describe this travesty
Of artistic literacy!
"There's a worm at the bottom of the garden...
"So inviting
Invites will be sent to all
So happening
Come along, you'll have a ball!
So inviting
Invites will be sent to all
So happening
Come along, you'll have a ball!"
The Duke interrupted. "What happens in the end?"
"The end?" said Christian, confused.
"You know, what happens after the beginning..."
The Bohemians ran off and set up a stage remarkably quickly, ready for Christian to sing...
"The elf and present-making-thing
Are pulled apart by a piece of string
But in the end she hears its clank
And is attracted to a tank..."
"It's a little bit crappy,
this odd-looking bong..."
sang the Duke.
There was a prolonged, silent, "Right....", before the Bohemians once more burst into song.
"So inviting
Invites will be sent to all
So happening
Come along, you'll have a ball!"
Christian came back, soloing once more...
"The present-maker's secret clank
Helps them find the sexy tank
Though the destroyer kills some quails
It is all to no avail..."
"I am the evil present-destroyer...You will not escape!" said Zidler threateningly.
"Nor will your presents!" supplied Satine.
"Exactly..."
"So inviting,
Will make them scream, will make them yell
So happening..."
"And in the end, we ring a bell?" suggested the Duke. His idea was met with another prolonged silence.
"So inviting
Invites will be sent to all
So happening
Come along, you'll have a ball!" ended the Bohemians.
There was a long pause. "Well, what do you think?" said Zidler.
"Well...I think it's rubbish," said the Duke, "but I can see we'll get nowhere unless I say I like it."
They all took this in, then hugged ole Dukie like he'd never been hugged before!
A/N: So, what d'you think? Bad, I know. Pity me, I have lost my muse! He's not in any of his usual haunts...I even checked the airing cupboard...nothing.
Oh well. Next one WILL be up soon, I promise! Promise, promise, promise!
Now, you know what to do, don'tcha? That's it...review...review...review!