Welcome to chapter five of 'Things Too Big to Fit Through a Mirror'. I know, I'm dragging out, but I just have so many ideas for this stupid fic! Anyway, I own nothing. Phantom. Whipped cream. Chocolate sauce. Closet.

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Each denizen of the opera house did their best to drone out the little Giry's wailing.

Well, each one except Christine, who wasn't bothered by the sound because you needed to have a brain to notice things or feel discomfort, and had no brain to speak of.

So she just kept eating her box of cookies quite contentedly and clutching in her free hand the stuffed cat.

"Make it STOP!" the Phantom screamed, hands pressed to either side of his head "it is like the shriek of a thousand dying cats!"

"Anyone want a cookie?" Christine asked calmly, blinking innocently.

Everyone in the room was completely ready to pounce upon her and destroy her.

"I WANT MY PAPA!" Meg Giry screamed loudly, head turned to the ceiling and mouth wide open as she cried harder.

"You have no papa, bastard child!" the Phantom snapped viciously.

Big mistake.

The little Giry's dark eyes magnified with fresh tears and the screaming became shrieking, violently high pitched shrieking.

"You were my papa!" the little blonde cried, pointing to the Phantom, "Christine told me so!"

And everyone turned to the absent-minded little Daae, whose head was halfway in the box of cookies in order to seek out the crumbs. The stuffed cat lay limply in her lap as she burrowed into the cookie box.

"Foolish child…" the Phantom muttered, gesturing for the ballerinas to keep working.

The screaming was a dull roar, now, deafening everyone to the point where they no longer cared.

The ballet rats scurried about frantically, crying out "Hurry or he'll kill us!" and running to their former positions at the organ still in the doorway.

"Hey, I was there last time!" a chestnut haired girl exclaimed, shoving another ballerina out of the way.

So, to add to the sobbing and wailing of Meg Giry came the clamoring of the ballet rats, screaming at who had taken what place when they were to push the organ into the room.

"I was on the other side!" one yelled, pointing in said direction.

"You're all mad!" the Dread Pirate Erik yelled, that vein in his forehead beginning to pop again.

Everyone turned to the madman in the eye patch, snorted unbecomingly and went back to accusing each other of who went where and what went with whom.

The sobbing/wailing kept on, the arguing went on and the oblivious newly ordained soprano kept trying to eat the crumbs at the bottom of the box.

Every other member of the Opera Populaire just kept staring like a gaggle of idiots.

"ENOUGH OF THIS!" the Phantom boomed, pointing to the floor beneath him. All went silent, "TO HELL WITH ALL OF YOU! I NEED ONE EASY TASK DONE AND YOU SIMPLE-MINDED FOOLS CANNOT EVEN DO THAT! PITIFUL, YOU ARE ALL IDIOTS!"

The screaming stopped. The crying stopped. The cookie search continued.

"Everyone!" he pointed to the mirror "push that organ in there and I will do so the rest of the way!"

The quivering ballerinas pushed with all their strength (which was an odd amount for a bunch of tiny little girls) and the organ slid into the mirror's pathway with a screech.

"Good, good fools! Now, all of you, out of the way!" he pushed the chestnut haired ballerinas from her position and rammed his full body weight into the organ.

It slid into the mirror's entrance.

He rammed a second time. The mirror began to shatter at the sides and edges.

A third time and the thing slid down the dank hallway and hit the wall with a dull thud.

Successful, he grinned hugely and mentally did a victory dance.

The little Meg Giry's eyes were red-brimmed from tears and bloodshot, just as if she had been crying quite a bit.

"I am" he turned, defeated "I am sorry I am not your papa"

The words came out jumbled and stammered, being that he didn't believe he ever needed to apologize to anyway.

The small blonde sniffled and ran her arm across her eyes, the moist tear residue wiping off her face and onto her arm in a long streak.

"It's okay" she said, voice congested.

"Yes, well" he turned, smirking widely and swished his cape dramatically. Despite the fact that he had become excellent at this, he soon became entangled in the mass of black material and fell to the floor with an incredibly clumsy thud.

He writhed about for a few minutes but regained his composure, sitting up and looking very much like a butterfly in a cocoon.

"I shall" he managed to his feet, arms bound to his sides as he hopped through the mirror's "RETURN!"

A maniacal laugh rang through the air and he stopped, closing his teeth around the side of the mirror and pushing with all his might.

The mirror slid closed and, slightly humiliated, the 'all powerful' Phantom of the opera limped away, encased tightly in the vast sea of material that was his cape.

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Heh, Erik's such a jackass…getting himself in so much trouble like that….stupid hot tool of a Phantom.