I'm back! Again! Woot! Sorry about being gone so long, but come on, it was summer. Okay, so that wasn't the best excuse, but whatever. Anyway, for a lot of the past, what, month and a half, I haven't had internet access anyway. But anyway, here's Fopular, courtesy of the Fop.

Chapter XIV: Fopular

"Your very first masquerade EVER?" Squealed de Chagny as he shoved me into the dorm.

"No."

"Oh..." This concept obviously hadn't occurred to him. "Whatever… Hey, wait, I know! Let's tell each other a secret!"

"Why?" I asked, genuinely wanting to know what the point would be in that.

"Because I'm bored. And because I want to rub it in that Christine and I are getting married."

"WHAT!" I demanded. "She… you… WHAT?"

"Oh, she doesn't know yet," he answered casually. "Now you get to tell me a secret!"

"I'll pass."

"But… but… Pweeeeeese?" He begged, attempting (and failing) at puppy eyes.

"Eh… no."

"Oh, come on."

"Why and what do you want to know?"

"I dunno… Oh, and by the way: Call me Vicky."

"Why?" I asked again.

"It's short for 'Vicomte!' "

"I'll just stick to calling you de Chagny."

"Aw, c'mon Erik… Now that we're dorm mates, it's really not necessary to call me by my last name. Anyway, I've been calling you Erik ever since I met you."

"That's because you don't know my last name."

"Oh, yah. Oh well! Also, now that we're dorm mates-,"

"We've been dorm mates this entire time," I pointed out.

"Fine," he pouted. "Erik, now that I have founded the religion of Foppism, I've decided to make you my new project."

"Do that, and I Punjab you." I said, fingering the rope menacingly. He glared at me, and I glared back.

Suddenly, another teenager ran into our room, wearing one of those blue sticky nametags that say, "Hello, my name is (insert blank here)." Only, hers said, "Hello, my name is Ravensmyst."

"NO!" She screamed rather loudly right into my ear. "DON'T PUNJAB HIM! THEN HE'LL TURN INTO A GHOST AND WALK THROUGH WALLS AND-,"

"Hey, can you do me a favor?" I interrupted.

"Sure."

"Go help Ali Lynn make the sea monkeys give me my money back."

"Okay."

She turned and left. I glanced at the fop. He looked slightly bewildered, to say the least. Actually, he was starting to develop something very similar to Christine's usual Dear-in-the-headlights expression. I waved my hand in front of his face. Nothing happened. I started poking him on the shoulder. Still nothing. I poked him harder. He tipped over. I poked him on the hair. He screamed girlishly, but was immediately back to normal. I cursed.

"I know. But I'm a missionary, so I have to convert you. You see, whenever I see someone less fortunate than I (and let's face it; who ISN'T less fortunate than I?)"

"Well, let's see," I began sarcastically. "You're a fop, you're somewhat immature and you can't sing. I'm sure there's NO ONE less fortunate than you."

He paused. "That's exactly what I'm saying." I had the urge to slap my forehead at his inability to pick up on my sarcasm. "My tender eyes tend to start to burn."

"Um, thank you?"

He continued. "And when someone needs to change beliefs, I simply have to make them think I know I know exactly what they need. And even in YOUR case, though it's the toughest case I've yet to face-,"

"I'm glad you realize you can't convert me," I said, trying to end the convo then and there. Unfortunately, he wasn't finished.

"Don't worry, I'm- well, I'll try to succeed… Follow my lead, and yes, probably, you will be… fopular! You're gonna be fopu-U-lar-,"

"Does it disturb anyone else that de Chagny is capable of Chenoweth's very feminine yodeling thing?" I asked the general public.

"I'll teach you the right techniques of what gossip to leak; little tricks to get your way (Bribes!)"

At this point, I started a vain attempt to inch towards the door. Unfortunately, he was still quite alert, and pushed me into my desk chair, draping my cloak across me, and tying me down with my Punjab. Soon he began painting globs of thick, cold, vile-smelling junk onto my head.

"What are you doing?" I spat.

"You'll see," he smiled happily. "I'll show you what masks to wear, how to curl your hair, and all the signature styles to be fopular. I'll help you be fopu-U-lar! You'll hang with all the right guys, you'll have a social life, you won't murder anymore. Now, what do you think?"

He spun me around in my swivel chair so I could face the mirror. "You… Made… Me… BLONDE!" I stared at myself. "You got BLONDE JUNK on my mask!" I struggle to get out of the rope, but the knots were too tight. Curses. "PLEASE tell me it's not permanent!"

"Oh, please. Like I'd make you a blonde. You look HORRIBLE blonde. I only bleached your hair so that I can put a better color on top. Because nothing's gonna show up on your old black hair."

I wasn't sure if I should be thankful that I wasn't going to stay blonde, or freaked out that he was going to dye my hair some color other than black.

"So let's start," he continued, "Cuz you've got a REALLY long way to go. Don't be- Actually, go ahead and be offended at your rank of foppishness." He pulled out a huge thermometer labeled "Fop-o-Meter." It was at 1.4 out of 10. "It is there to show how far to complete foppishness."

"You just rhymed foppishness with itself," I pointed out.

"Well, how many words do YOU know of that rhyme with 'foppishness'?" He challenged me.

"It's YOUR word."

"Yah, well-," He paused, trying to think of a comeback. "It doesn't matter. Anyway, now that I've chosen to become a pal, a roommate and dictator, there's nobody greater. Not when it comes to fopular! I know about fopu-U-lar, and with lots of help from me to force you to be different from who you were, well are… There's nothing that can stop you from be coming fopuler. Lar.

"Blah, blah, blah, blah," I replied under my breath.

"We're gonna make you fop-u-lar. When I see these social rejects, with organs-,"

"Do you have something against organs?" I demanded.

"Yes. -And facial defects, I suggest to them to possibly think of celebrated rich Vicomtes,"

"You're not narcissistic AT ALL…"

"And specially great- Hey, what rhymes with Vicomte?"

"Idiot," I said automatically.

"Oh yah, forgot about that one… Did they have brains or knowledge?"

"Not on YOUR life," I replied.

He glared at me. "Don't point and laugh."

"Too late," I said.

Deciding to ignore my last comment, he continued: "They were fopular! PLEASE, it's all about fopu-U-lar! Don't matter if you can sing, it's the way you're seen, so it's very cool to be very, very, fopu-U-lar, like me."

He stepped in front of me and surveyed my hair. "Erik, you're- Well, we've made progress."

He spun my chair.

Cautiously, I looked into the mirror. My hair was a very bright…

"MAGENTA!" I demanded as he started untying me. I leapt out of the chair, and began pulling him towards the door. "Okay, YOU have got to go." I proceeded to dropkick him to China.

If I was lucky, it'd take him a couple of weeks to figure out where he was and how to get back. I paused, reflecting on the events of the night. It had definitely not gone as planned. I was interrupted by the ringing of the dorm phone. I picked up, and heard the fop's voice, much to my dismay.

"Hey, guess what! I'm flying through the air en route to China! So now I can call you and finish my song! And though you protest your disinterest, I know eventually… You're gonna learn to bear it, your newfound fopularity! La, la, la, la… You'll be fopular! Just not quite as fopular…. As… MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

That last note was extremely painful. I was about to comment on it, when I heard a very sickening crack from de Chagny's end of the phone. Shrugging, I hung up and took off my magenta wig, replacing it with another black one. Only a fop would fail to notice that his roommate wears a wig.

Alright, I'm cool. Hopefully this chapter at least somewhat met your expectations. If you have any constructive crit, review it at me, and I'll do what I can to improve it. And if you don't have any constructive crit, review anyway. No, I'm not obsessed with reviews… :sarcasm and shifty eyes as I try to figure out how to shoplift reviews: Anyway, right! Thanks so much to everyone who sent me all those hyper reviews; they made me happy! And thanks to you all for reading! Okay, review replies you know the drill.

TruPhan: Unfortunately, I haven't seen Spamalot yet. I do, however, own the Spamalot soundtrack and the DVD of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and happen to think that Monty Python is one of the funniest things ever. Patsy and Lance rock:D

Ravensmyst: I hope you don't mind my inserting you into the phic, I just found your review so amusing. I tried a different approch to writing the lyrics this time, involving notebooks, ballpoint pens, and a sailboat. And has your armadillo arrived yet?

Graceful Lee: Thanks so much for your review! I haven't been through my inbox in awhile. I shall take a look at your phic as soon as I can:D Sounds highly amusing

Alli Lynn: Yo. Javert IS awesome, isn't he? And he has a cool death scene. Les Mis is coming to my city soon, and I can't wait to see it!
Graceful Lee: Wait, you and Alli Lynn know each other? Cool! And yes, I was always under the impression that Snape was really cool, but then... :Shuts up before everyone yells at me for putting out spoilers:
Callie: Of course everyone's fond of my phic, it IS the best E/E ever... Right people:silence:crickets chirp: Never mind. But I hope you like it!
Jen: The world of fanfiction/phanphiction truly is an odd one...

Naasjia: Sorry it took me so long to get back to you, but yo! Thanks for the review:D And I agree, scalopatia do need to die. THEY ARE EVIL! (No, I swear I haven't had an unhealthy amout of sugar today) :sarcasm, woot:

Readers, you rock! Reviewers, you rock even more! And Readers who Review rock the most! Yay! And yes, I'll be updating as soon as I possibly can. Which should be in a few days.