Setting: Underground lair. One year after the Opera House fire. The Phantom, unmasked, is sitting before a mirror, as is his custom during his free time. He has, of course, nothing but free time, which contributes to the household problems.)
Christine: (picking up laundry) Phanny, I have told you a hundred times not to fling your cape near the sewer. The tide sweeps it out, and it gets covered in, well, let’s call it “goo.”
Phantom: (paying no attention; absorbed by his reflection) Christine, do you think I’m handsome in a ghastly, gruesome sort of way?
Christine: If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, beauty is on the inside. Stop asking me that question. I’ve become an enabler!
Phantom: You have to admit that my face is interesting. It’s not your usual, everyday face.
(Christine sighs and goes about her housework.)
Phantom: It’s striking, is it not?
Christine: If I give you an answer, will you promise to look for a job today? I’m tired of retrieving food remnants from the sewer. I’m not even sure it’s food. (Mutters to self:) I’m going to break all those d*mn mirrors.
Phantom: Which eye do you like better: the standard, run-of-the-mill eye or the creepy one?
Christine: What does it matter what I think? Raoul wouldn’t have crucified me like this! You’re so needy! No wonder your counselor refused to give you another appointment. Remember, YOU have to take the first step toward self-acceptance.
Phantom: Should I go back to wearing a mask, or at least an eye patch? An eye patch would be kinda sexy. Y'know, like a pirate.
(Christine ignores him and throws a fishing line into the sewer.)
Phantom: Gee, I feel kinda feverish. Maybe I have typhoid fever again. I should really go tuck myself in. (Grabs a hand mirror from his vanity table, hops into bed, and muses.) Possibly malaria. I don’t think you hung up enough pest strips, Christine.
Christine: I saved one to strangle you with, should the need arise.
Phantom: Really, I’m quite an attractive man, aside from my hideous features. Wine, Christine! Bring me a glass of wine! Better yet, the whole bottle. And the rest of the opium. Where’s my black velvet dressing gown? While you’re at it, my silk nightcap. It must be in the single digits down here! Brrrrr! Christine?
(Christine has left the lair and bounded as fast as she can toward Raoul’s Paris apartment. The Phantom picks up the hand mirror and examines his face again.)
Phantom: Not bad, for a monster.
Christine: (picking up laundry) Phanny, I have told you a hundred times not to fling your cape near the sewer. The tide sweeps it out, and it gets covered in, well, let’s call it “goo.”
Phantom: (paying no attention; absorbed by his reflection) Christine, do you think I’m handsome in a ghastly, gruesome sort of way?
Christine: If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, beauty is on the inside. Stop asking me that question. I’ve become an enabler!
Phantom: You have to admit that my face is interesting. It’s not your usual, everyday face.
(Christine sighs and goes about her housework.)
Phantom: It’s striking, is it not?
Christine: If I give you an answer, will you promise to look for a job today? I’m tired of retrieving food remnants from the sewer. I’m not even sure it’s food. (Mutters to self:) I’m going to break all those d*mn mirrors.
Phantom: Which eye do you like better: the standard, run-of-the-mill eye or the creepy one?
Christine: What does it matter what I think? Raoul wouldn’t have crucified me like this! You’re so needy! No wonder your counselor refused to give you another appointment. Remember, YOU have to take the first step toward self-acceptance.
Phantom: Should I go back to wearing a mask, or at least an eye patch? An eye patch would be kinda sexy. Y'know, like a pirate.
(Christine ignores him and throws a fishing line into the sewer.)
Phantom: Gee, I feel kinda feverish. Maybe I have typhoid fever again. I should really go tuck myself in. (Grabs a hand mirror from his vanity table, hops into bed, and muses.) Possibly malaria. I don’t think you hung up enough pest strips, Christine.
Christine: I saved one to strangle you with, should the need arise.
Phantom: Really, I’m quite an attractive man, aside from my hideous features. Wine, Christine! Bring me a glass of wine! Better yet, the whole bottle. And the rest of the opium. Where’s my black velvet dressing gown? While you’re at it, my silk nightcap. It must be in the single digits down here! Brrrrr! Christine?
(Christine has left the lair and bounded as fast as she can toward Raoul’s Paris apartment. The Phantom picks up the hand mirror and examines his face again.)
Phantom: Not bad, for a monster.