The Angel of the Opera: Part Eight
by KrazyGirl
As the Angel and Buffy made their way up to the Opera House, the other ballet girls were eagerly crowded around Buquet. He held a piece of rope in a noose. "Like yellow parchment is his skin. A great black hole served as the nose that never grew!" He put his neck in the noose, and held his hand up. "Keep your hand at the level of your eyes, or he will catch you with the Punjab Lasso!" The ballet girls cried out and clapped. The shape of the Angel appeared backstage, causing the girls to panic. They ran off. As Buffy is led back to her dressing room, the Angel stares at Buquet.

Buquet is making his way back up to the Flys when Giles came. He rapped his stick on the ground and stared coldly at Buquet. "Those who speak of what they know find, too late, that prudent silence is wise. Joseph Buquet, you hold your tongue. He will burn you with the heat of his eyes!" Giles walked off towards Box 5, to prepare it for the next performance. The Angel always wanted a clean seat . . .

Meanwhile, in the manager's office, Firmin was shuffling through messy papers. He read each one quickly, and tossed it on the ground. "'Mystery after gala night.' Ha! 'A ghost is suspected, since the disappearance of Miss Buffy Daaé.' Has the whole world gone mad?" he grumbled to himself. Where on earth was Buffy Daaé? Just then, André burst through the oak doors. "Damnable! This is an outrage! Will they all walk out! This is all damnable!" Firmin quietly spoke, "André, please don't shout." André quieted down, but he didn't let up his anger. "Oh Firmin, have you seen the queue? Oh! It seems you got one, too." He picked up a letter from the Angel. He then pulled out another one from his pocket. In unison, they opened them. Andre read his:
"Dear André,
What a charming gala! Buffy enjoyed a great success! We were hardly bereft when Carlotta left. Otherwise, the chorus was entrancing, but the dancing was a lamentable mess!"

Firmin began to read his own letter:

"Dear Firmin,
Just a brief reminder. My salary has not been paid. Send it care of ghost, by return of the post. P.T.O
No one likes a debtor so it's better if my orders are obeyed!"
A brief pause passed between to two men. They both began to talk at once, in song:

Both
"Who would have the gall to sned this? SOmeone with a purile brain!"
Firmin
"They are both signed O.G."
André
"Who the hell is he?"
Both
"OPERA GHOST!"
Firmin
"It's really not amusing."
André
"He's abusing out position!"
Firmin
"In addition he wants money!"
André
"He's a funny sort of spectre . . ."
Both
". . . to expect a large retainer!
Nothing plainer- her is clearly quite insane!"

They both jumped at the souns of Xander barging in. "Where is she?" "You mean Carlotta?" asked André. "I mean Miss Daaé. Where is she?" "Well, how should we know?" demanded Firmin. Xander grew madder. "I want an answer. I take it that you sent me this note?" "Of course not!' cried Firmin. "Don't look at us." added André. "She is not with you, then?" concluded Xander. "Of course not!" repeated Firmin. "We're in the dark." said André. "Monsieur, don't argue- isn't this the letter you wrote?" Xander thrust a note out. "And what is it we're meant to have wrote?" demanded Firmin. Then he realized he really messed-up. "Written!" he added. Xander opened the letter:

"Do not fear for Miss Daaé. The Angel of Music has her saftly under his wing. Make no attempt to see her again." Xander looked up at them. "If you didn't write it, who did?" Once again, the door banged open with the force of Carlotta Giudicelli. "Where is he?!" "Ah, welcome back!" said André cheerfully. "Your prescious patron- where is he?!" "What is it now?" said Xander annoyed. "I have your letter- a letter which I rather resent." Firmin looked at Xander "And did you send it?" "Of course not!" cried Xander. "As if he would." said André under his breath. Carlotta thrust the note to Firmin. "Tell him what it is he has wrote!"

"Your days at the Opera Populaire are numbered. Buffy Daaé will be singin on your behalf tonight. Be prepared for a great misforune, should you attempt to take her place . . ."


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