Sir Percy Blakeney was enjoying a pleasant evening in his home with his dear and quite pleasant friend, Lord Antony Dewhurst, who was seated opposite him in a pleasantly large armchair. Also in the room, and also enjoying the pleasant evening, was Sir Andrew Ffoulkes. They were all enjoying a pleasant evening, reveling in the pleasant conversation. The pleasant evening was indeed pleasant, as the stars were shining bright and all was quite... uh... what’s the word I’m looking for...

Anyway, as they sat there enjoying the evening, Sir Percy was started by a large BOOM! He sat up in his chair and looked about.

“What the deuce was that?!”

Lord Tony and Sir Andrew looked at each other suspiciously.

“Uh... Sir Philip... practicing his... backhand?”

Percy looked confused. Andrew stood, making his way to the door.

“Perhaps I better... go check on...” he paused a moment, thinking over the name, “Philip...”

But before Sir Andrew could reach the door, a man turned black from soot and smoking all over ran into the room.

“Emergency! Emergency!” He paused as he saw Sir Percy and smiled a greeting. “How do you do, sir. Don’t believe we’ve met.”

Sir Percy shook his hand. “Sir Percy Blakeney, baronet.”

“A pleasure.” This introduction done with, the man turned back to Lord Tony.

“Emergency! Emergency!”

Tony helped the man into a chair as Percy strode forward for an explanation.

“Tony, who on earth is this man?”

The mysterious stranger, upon realizing the error in his ways, turned back to Percy.

“Oh, forgive me. Dr. Jekyll, at your humble service.”

Percy jumped.

“But that’s impossible! The anachronisms in such a situation...”

Dr. Jekyll interrupted him.

“Ah, but you see sir, this is a humorous fanfiction. Time and space can be distorted in all sorts of ways, with no problems.”

Sir Percy was pacified.... for a moment.

“But... what are you doing here?”

Dr. Jekyll turned to Tony, who stood.

“I suppose I shall explain. Do you remember when you, upon Lady Blakeney’s request, let Armand devise a rescue plan?”

All three shuddered at the memory.

“Unfortunately yes. However, as I recall, it came out quite well. Chauvelin seemed to, quite suddenly, go insanely mad and began murdering his own men...”

Dr. Jekyll looked exceptionally proud, indicating no further need for any explanation.

“I see. But... what the deuce is he doing in my house?!”

“Well... it was HER idea!” Sir Andrew shouted, quite childlike, pointing to the author. Out of nowhere, a large rock seemed to sail through the window and knock Sir Andrew out of his senses. As such a thing was quite common, the characters continued.

“Well, now that it’s all explained, I see it was a lovely plan.”

“Yes, quite smashing,” said Tony, deftly stepping over Andrew’s body in order to get another drink. They sat in silence for another moment, until Dr. Jekyll remembered the reason for returning upstairs and, directly into Tony’s ear, screamed, “Emergency! Emergency!”

Tony rubbed his ear then, turning, screamed in Jekyll’s ear, “WE HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME!”

Percy stepped between them.

“Alright, let’s not be children here.”

Tony grumbled.

“This coming from the man who wears Barbie clothes...”

“Does someone need a frou-frou time out?”

Jekyll stepped between them.

“This is no time for fashion!”

Percy’s eyes grew wide and he felt quite faint. But Jekyll continued, choosing not to notice Percy’s fear.

“I fear I have done something quite awful! Quick, come down to my laboratory!”

They all followed him out into the hallway, including Sir Andrew who had thankfully recovered, but was staring at the author with an angry pout. Entering the library, Dr. Jekyll went straight to the skinny autobiography on the end labeled, “Ken Labey: The Side of Me That No One Knew” and started to pull it out. Halfway out, the book triggered a mechanism that opened the bookshelf to a secret passageway into the cellar. They went down several flights of twisty, cobwebby halls, filled with menacing paintings and evil looking shadows. After a few minutes of walking, Percy whispered up to Jekyll.

“I didn’t know my basement was so far under ground.”

Jekyll whispered back, “Oh no, we’re just doubling back. It makes it spookier to keep walking so long. Really sets the mood.” He waved hello to Erik, the Phantom of the Opera, as they walked by.

“How’s your new opera coming?”

Erik sighed.

“I’m thinking of doing something a bit more lighthearted. You know, maybe something about a bunch of cats? Or maybe something about a woman in Argentina who rises to power..."

“Well, good luck!”

“BREAK A LEG!” Erik screamed. “SAY BREAK A LEG OR I’LL BURN YOU WITH THE HEAT OF MY EYES!!!”

Percy was worried, but Jekyll motioned for them to continue on.

“Pay no attention to Erik. He hasn’t had his coffee yet.”

They finally descended on Jekyll’s lair and found sitting there a large, metallic machine with hundreds of buttons, switches, and pulleys. They stared in awe as the machine whirred to life, but Jekyll turned their attention away.

“Oh, never mind that. That’s my V8 machine, the fluid that runs the time machine. The problem is over here.” He pulled out an ordinary looking chair, but instructed them not to sit on it.

“You see, this is my time machine chair. I invented two of them, in the hopes that they could be put to good use. But, even this was not granted me.”

Percy posed the question.

“You said you invented two. Where’s the other?”

“That’s the problem,” Jekyll said mournfully. “A few days ago, I heard a noise and came out in time to see two people disappear via the time machine. One of them was... DUH DUH DUH!”

They all looked around in confusion, wondering where the odd bad guy music was coming from. Shrugging it off, they turned back to Jekyll.

“Citizen Chauvelin!”

Percy yawned.

“You mean Chauvelin went away to the future? Great! I won’t have to bother with him anymore.”

But Jekyll wasn’t finished.

“But Chauvelin didn’t go alone. He sent someone on ahead of him first to make sure it worked. And this person is so horrid, so twisted, so demented, he could but only destroy the future and all hope humanity had for survival.”

They stared at him in horror.

“Armand St. Just.”

An hour later, Marguerite looked up from her book.

“Percy, don’t tell me you’re leaving again.”

Percy angrily reprimanded himself for letting her hear. Turning back to his wife, he braced for the impact. A moment later, a crying mass lay clutching at his feet.

“PPLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE don’t lllllleeeeeeeeeeave me!!!! Percy, if you love me, you won’t go!”

Percy attempted to walk out into the hallway, but Margot held fast to his feet. Even bumping down the stairs did nothing to deter her.

“PLLEE-AA-EEE-AAA-EEE-EEE-SS-EEE...”

“Look, Margot,” he begged, trying to shake her off, “I really have to go. Dr. Jekyll built a time machine that was captured by Chauvelin, and so Chauvelin and your brother are somewhere in the future. And heaven only knows what they’re doing.”

Margot jumped to her feet.

“IT’S A TRAP! I KNOW IT IS! Oh, take me with you Percy!”

Percy tried to walk away, but Margot grabbed his arm.

“If you don’t take me with you, I’ll only follow you!”

He started to say something, but thought over Margot’s track record.

“Yes, I bet you would. Well... I suppose...”

Dr. Jekyll got Tony through the time machine quite easily, but Andrew proved a little more of a challenge.

“If you don’t mind, Percy, I think I shall stay here. Probably safer.”

“Safer? What on earth are you talking about?”

Andrew looked nervous.

“Well, if I don’t go, I shan’t be a crucial part of the story. Therefore, I’ll have less of a chance to get attacked by the author again.”

Percy laughed a most inane laugh.

“Oh, pish posh. Come along, Andrew.”

Andrew finally settled down and succumbed to the chair. Percy listened out of the side of his mind as Andrew went through the safety warnings.

“Keep your hands and arms inside the time machine at all times...”

Margot looked over his shoulder at the book he was reading. Percy showed her the cover of the Ken Labey biography, then shook his head in wonder.

“And I thought I was the master of disguise!”

Margot smiled, then looked wonderingly down at the book.

“But why are there no pictures of the author?”

Before Percy could answer, Dr. Jekyll spoke up.

“Alright, Sir Percy! You’re next.”

Percy landed with a thud; Margot a moment after him. As they picked themselves up, they looked about them at the booming landscape of New York. As people pushed past them, Margot grabbed Percy’s hand. He looked back to her.

“Percy, where are we?”

He looked about himself once more.

“I don’t know. But, wherever we are, there’s a shocking lack of satin! Well, better go find Andrew and Tony...”

We now move backwards in time. Well, rather forwards, but yet backwards... never mind. We leave Margot, Percy, Andrew, and Tony alone as, at this moment, they are still back at Blakeney Manor enjoying an... ahem... pleasant evening. Our attention now rests on the two Armands, who, having just time traveled themselves into the future, find themselves in an extremely large, dark room, with signs all over the walls announcing “basketball games” and something about some kind of “high school”.

Chauvelin looked around in suspicion, and discovered the two of them settled in between a lot of very excited teenagers. As the lights suddenly rose in dramatic emphasis, Chauvelin leaned over to the girl next to him.

“What’s going on? A beheading?”

The girl looked at him in amazement.

“Like, no! They’re announcing Homecoming Kings and Queens, duh.”

Chauvelin’s face bristled as the people around him clapped and girls and boys stepped forward to accept a crown and scepter. After just a moment, he leaped to his feet and jumped upon a chair.

“Citizens! How now can you stand this tyranny? These men and women will crush you beneath their feet! They will heartlessly watch you suffer and die! Join with me now!”

“And don’t come back!” The principal yelled, slamming the door on the two Armand’s. Chauvelin looked in disgust at his new partner lying on the ground, examining a piece of paper.

“What is that, Armand?”

“Some girl gave me something called a phone number.”

Chauvelin growled in annoyance and stalked away, leaving Armand on his own. Armand waited a moment, than began to walk back towards the school. About halfway there, he noticed a boy reading a copy of a book entitled “The Scarlet Pimpernel”. Grinning, Armand pointed to it.

“The Scarlet Pimpernel? A book about Percy? I MEAN...”

“Ah great!” The kid shouted, throwing the book at him. “Way to ruin it for me!”

Tony found himself, upon waking, in a large area with several people, singing and rehearsing different parts. He walked up to one of them.

“Uh... excuse me. Can you tell me where I am?”

The man with the clipboard, a rather frazzled gentleman, looked up in happiness.

“Are you the understudy? Oh, thank heavens! I was beginning to really worry. Now, get in there with costume and make-up, now.”

“But... but I don’t know what’s going on!”

“Oh, alright. I’ll send in an acting coach too. Now go!”

Tony was herded to the make-ups room.

Andrew found himself in what he assumed to be a theater. It LOOKED somewhat like the theaters he had attended in Paris with Percy. As the lights began to dim, he took a seat and enjoyed the overture. He even managed to sneak a program while waiting for the show to begin.

“WHAT?!” Tony cried, “You want me to play WHO?!?”

The acting coach settled him down.

“You’re going on in a few minutes. Just settle down. You’ll be great.”

Chauvelin snuck into a different theater, discovering it a great place to hide.

Percy must’ve followed me here... I’ll just wait for awhile for him to go back.

The curtain went up, and Chauvelin was instantly enraptured by the story.

A few hours later, Percy and Margot stood in awe at a great theater marquee in front of them.

“The Scarlet Pimpernel”.

Percy gulped, then smiled.

“Well, I do believe Tony or Andrew would’ve come here first... let’s go check it out, shall we?”

They walked quietly into the theater, until a girl walked up to them.

“Percy Blakeney, right?” she asked, rather sarcastically, eyeing his clothes. He nodded.

“Milady, I’m looking for a few of my friends...”

“Let me guess, Antony Dewhurst and Andrew Ffoulkes.”

“Right. We’re looking to... um... play a game of cricket! Yes, that’s right.”

“Sure...” she said, smiling. “Tell me, how many Frenchies did you save today?”

“What?” he asked, feigning surprise. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on. I know you’re the Scarlet Pimpernel!”

Percy grabbed the girl by the shoulders and, quite violently, shoved her up against the wall and began whispering to her. “Look, I don’t know how you know this, but it is IMPERATIVE that this information stays between you and me. Men, women, even children depend upon my identity remaining secret! Do you want the blood of children on your hands? Do you?” He paused for a moment, trying to get his voice back under control. “If you wish to remain under the protection of the Scarlet Pimpernel, you will leave this theater at once and never breathe a word of this to anyone, is that quite clear?”

The girl nodded, quite scared. He released her, and she ran from the theater like a shot.

Chauvelin, tears running down his face, stood from his chair and attempted to stop crying. He overheard word of a “stage door” where you could meet the actors, and instantly started following that party.

“Oh sir?”

Percy and Margot turned to the woman behind the front desk. She eyed them strangely for a moment, then began speaking.

“I believe I overheard you saying you were looking for one of your... party?”

“Yes!” Percy exclaimed, running to her side.

“Well...” she began quite hesitantly. “We had a gentleman come into the show and was making quite a fuss. First, during “Madame Guillotine” he tried to run up on stage to save St. Cyr. We got him back to his seat, but he continued making a fuss. He stood up and cheered loudly when Marguerite mentioned “Suzanne de Tournay”, then, for the rest of the show, insisted on shouting commands to Percy and Marguerite. In addition, he was CONSTANTLY boo-ing whenever Chauvelin came on. Finally, when Chauvelin beheaded Percy in the end...”

Percy jumped back in shock and exclaimed, quite loudly, “WHAT KIND OF SHOW IS THIS?!?”

The lady settled him down. “It’s part of the trick ending, sir. Anyway, this man, dressed rather like you are now, ran up on stage and started attacking the Chauvelin!”

Percy nodded.

“Yes, he’s probably the friend I’m looking for. Where might I find him?”

The lady gave directions and, as Percy and Marguerite started for the door, Percy paused in notice of the show poster hanging on the wall. He pointed to Doug Sills and asked, “Who is this?”

She looked up and smiled. “Doug Sills. He plays Percy.”

Percy smiled and, remarking to Marguerite, “La, I’m breathtaking!”

Marguerite’s eyes froze on the poster. “Yes. He is...”

Percy pulled her away; Marguerite going quite reluctantly.

Chauvelin poked, prodded, and pushed his way to the front of the area awaiting the stars. He hopped around in excitement, giddy as a schoolboy, until the actors finally started filing out. When Philip Quast appeared, Chauvelin ran to his side.

“Hello. I just want to say that I’m a BIG fan of yours now! Inspector Javert... oh, he just gives new meaning to what I do!”

“Thanks...” Philip said, a little uneasy.

Chauvelin thrust some paper into his face, smiling big. Philip began to sign, then actually read the paper he was signing the back of.

“What is this?”

“This? Oh, denunciation for St. Cyr. Nothing big. Did I say how wonderful you were? And all that black!”

Percy and Margot bumped around the backstage, looking for the door that held their compatriot. As they did so, Percy bumped into a well-admired figure.

“Ken Labey! I can’t believe it! This is like a dream come true! Margot, Margot come here!”

However, when his wife appeared, Ken was gone. However, all was not completely lost. Margot had found Doug Sills and was draped over his arm.

“Percy, this is Dooouuuggggg...” The syllables dripped from her lips in loving admiration, and Doug did his best to graciously pull away. No such luck though.

“So... you guys enjoy the play...?”

“Uh huh....” Margot said, gazing into his eyes.

“Yeah, well, I really should be heading to the cast party in the rec room...”

Percy had noticed something, though, and found a door behind him that opened up to a room that held Sir Andrew Ffoulkes. Smiling, he turned quickly back to his wife.

“Oh, you can go along with him to the party, dear. I’ll catch up with you in a second with Andrew.”

Margot grabbed a tighter hold on his arm and Doug, laughing nervously at the news, led her slowly down the hallway.

“Andrew! Lud love me, I finally found you!” Percy, however, stopped when he noticed that Andrew was crying. Something he never would’ve seen in the novels, what with Baroness Ortzy’s obsession with Englishmen never revealing their emotions ~ with the exception of himself, of course. He ran quickly to Andrew’s side.

“Andrew, what the deuce is the matter?”

Andrew grabbed his leader up in a big hug.

“Oh, Percy, it was horrible.”

“Yes, I heard. They pretended to chop my head off.”

“Worse than that!” Andrew exclaimed loudly. “I... I...”

“Yes, what is it?”

“I WASN’T IN IT!!!”

Marguerite and Doug were enjoying a pleasant evening at the cast party. Well, Margot was having a pleasant evening, Doug was not as enthused. Until Doug offered to introduce her to someone...

“Look Marguerite, someone new to hang on! William was sick today, so we had to call in an understudy.”

“TONY!!!” Marguerite exclaimed, throwing herself into her friend’s arms. Doug, happy at once, disappeared into the crowd. “What are you doing here?”

Tony puffed up a little taller in pride.

“I was performing in “The Scarlet Pimpernel: The Musical”.”

“How wonderful! Did you play Dewhurst?”

“Nope! I played Chauvelin! And, oh boy, I was great! You should’ve seen me, Margot! I got up on that stage and was the star of the show! You should’ve seen it. Wanna hear me sing “Falcon in the Dive”? Or “Where’s the Girl?” Please? You’ll love it!”

Philip Quast also found himself trying to lose an obsessive fan.

“Look! I’m not Javert, I never was...”

“But...”

“I don’t even like black!”

Chauvelin stepped back in pain, clutching his heart.

“You don’t...?”

“No! I hate the color. I prefer more... summery colors!”

Chauvelin stepped back in agony.

“NOooooooooooooooooo!!! Stop it!!!”

Philip ran away, leaving Chauvelin to sneak into a nearby stage door to cry piteously.

A few minutes later, Percy and an inferiority-complex-ridden Andrew stumbled into the cast party, and quickly sought out Marguerite and Tony. They exchanged pleasantries, enjoyed a few cups of punch, when SUDDENLY, Percy noticed Chauvelin weeping at the other side of the room.

“After him!” he exclaimed, the League springing into action. Margot, however, paused a moment to seek out Doug.

“Darling, I have to go now.”

“Really? How... terrible.” He said, not really all that convincing. She quickly silenced him by placing a finger over his lips.

“You mustn’t follow me. I know I shall be hard to get over, me being the most beautiful AND most witty woman in Europe, but you must forget me! I am a married woman and, as much as I may love you, our love cannot be.”

Doug tried to say something, but she threw herself into an embrace with him before he could.

“Do not speak! Our parting will not be easy, but console yourself by knowing that I shall never forget you! Au revoir, mon amie!”

And with that, she fled the room, sobbing tears of anguish.

“You shall not escape us, Chauvelin!” the League cried as they chased him down the busy street.

“Yes, I shall!” he screamed back.

“You have to come back to the past! It’s the only hope of survival!”

“NEVER!”

He finally ducked into yet another back-alley door, which the League followed him through. There they met the most horrific sight they could possibly imagine.

“Welcome to the MTV Teenage Music awards! Tonight, we are going to be honored by performances by all your favorite, to use the common name, “bubble gum pop” stars!”

Percy, Margot, Tony, and Andrew stood in fear for their very lives as they witnessed several hundred teenage girls, all quite scantily dressed, scream in answer to every word spoken, be it an announcement of their favorite stars entering or an announcement that someone’s lime green Volkswagen bug’s lights were on. Chauvelin had disappeared into the crowd, and they quickly split up to find him.

Andrew went to the right, and perhaps had a good idea to start out with. He noticed a group of guys snorting something in a dark corner, and walked over.

“Hello, my fine fellows. Have you, by chance, given any snuff to a gentleman that is rather short, dressed all in black, and is quite French.”

The guys looked around themselves, then shook their heads. They stopped him before he could walk away, though.

“Man, you looking bummed out ‘bout something.”

Not sure of the exact translation, but sure they were mentioning something about his emotional state, Andrew sat down, about to cry again, and spilled the whole story to the guys around him.

“And they didn’t even include me! Me! Percy’s best friend!”

As he began sobbing again, one of them offered him something that looked like snuff.

“Here, try some a this,” he said, snickering as he did so. “It makes all your troubles go far away...”

Tony ran into a blonde, literally. Picking her up from the floor, he tried hard not to notice the excessive lack of clothing.

“Hi!” she said in a rather bubbly voice. “I’m Britney Spears! Perhaps you have seen the tens of thousands of websites dedicated to the worship of me?”

“Uh... no,” Tony said, a little afraid. “But I am looking for a friend of mine.”

“I’m sure you are,” she said seductively, cozying up to him. “Would you like to make a new friend?”

Tony stepped back.

“Not really. I don’t think my wife would really appreciate that.”

“Oh...” she said, stepping away. Tony brightened.

“But I could sing you a really moving rendition of “Where’s the Girl?” Would you like that?”

Britney smiled in wonderment.

“I guess...”

A minute later, she was gone. Apparently, even her ears couldn’t take it anymore.

“Armand St. Just, you get away from me!”

“Ah, come on, Chauvelin! You’ll love it!”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!!!”

“No one will ever know! Besides, you can let all those susceptible youths know of your plans for French domination...”

The lights dimmed and, right on time, the teenage girls screamed deafeningly. A DJ came on and all eyes turned to the stage.

“Well, it’s time for the first act. Unfortunately, two the members of the Backstreet Boys have been detained. Fortunately, however, I have word that we have two backups, and the band is ready to go. Take it away, boys!”

The curtain lifted to reveal three normal members singing... and two extras.

“Armand!” Marguerite screamed out, running to the stage.

“Chauvelin!” Percy and Tony shouted.

Chauvelin, looking quite disgruntled in the boyband’s costume, only seemed further angered by the sound of Percy and Tony approaching. Armand, on the other hand, seemed quite comfortable and embraced his sister as she ran forward.

Chauvelin hid behind the main member of the boyband, taunting Percy as he tried to come forward.

“Just try to stop me now, Percy! This guy will protect me!”

Percy smiled.

“Chauvelin, do you know how much this guy makes a year? Go ahead, ask him!”

The boyband member told him, and Chauvelin’s ferret-like eyes flared in anger.

“I’d say that makes him an aristocrat, wouldn’t you?”

Percy’s words ignited Chauvelin’s anger and he began to beat the snot out of that particular Backstreet Boy. Wisely, Percy ran and pulled Tony, Marguerite, and Armand to the side of the stage as the assault of the teenage girls commenced.

Chairs were thrown, hair was pulled, the noise became monstrous. French mobs suddenly seemed quite gentle in comparison. Finally, police arrived and, a few hours later, they were alone on the stage: Chauvelin tied up and wincing in pain, Margot and Armand basking in pride at the other, Percy taunting Chauvelin on the state of his cravat now, and Tony once more trying to seduce someone with “Where’s the Girl?” Andrew even showed up, not quite himself...

“Look at all the pretty colors...” he said, wobbling tipsily around the room, staring at his hand as though he’d never seen such a thing before. The author, graciously, threw a chair at him and knocked him once more unconscious. Better a headache later than embarrassment now. He’ll agree with me when he comes to.

The group, once more assembled, brought forth the time travel machine. Percy, in an attempt to prevent any further problems, insisted Armand go first. Armand, however, hesitated and looked back at the Backstreet Boys, who had gathered on the side of the stage, watching.

“Actually, Percy... I was thinking of staying here.”

“REALLY?!?” Percy asked.

“Yeah, the guys offered me a position! They wanted a six member group in the first place, and they apparently liked my voice.”

Tony began to pout. “Didn’t even listen to MY voice,” he said, hunkering down into a corner.

“THAT’S WONDERFUL!” Percy said, pushing Armand towards the boyband.

“I know it’ll be real difficult for the League to be without me...”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll be fine,” Percy said, quite honestly. “Just go and have fun!”

“Maybe I can come back and visit some time. Bring the guys?”

Percy flinched at the suggestion. Gulping, he managed a “Maybe...”

The Backstreet Boys came over to meet the group, and smiled as they were introduced to Marguerite.

“So, this is your sister, Armand?”

“Yep,” he said proudly.

“Is she older or younger?”

“We better get going!” Percy exclaimed, pulling Margot away and inching away towards the time machine. “Don’t want to keep Dr. Jekyll waiting...”

Armand and Margot enjoyed a brief hug.

“Goodbye, little mother.”

“Take care of yourself, little father.”

And with that, the League, Marguerite, and Chauvelin transported back to the basement beneath Blakeney Manor to enjoy the remainder of the pleasant evening.

Percy insisted that Dr. Jekyll form a more proper laboratory above the ground. In particular, he wanted Dr. Jekyll to work on transportation of one single person: Percy himself, after all, had a lot he could learn from Mr. Labey.

Marguerite seconded the proposal, in hopes of bringing back Doug Sills as well.

Chauvelin healed, eventually, from the pain and torture inflicted by the teenage girls. However, the pain of rejection from Philip Quast never fully left him. The rejection left him sad and lonely and, after Victor Hugo published “Les Miserables”, Chauvelin went insane and was sent to a mental institution. Around this time, Percy picked up a new occupation: psychology. *bwu-ha-ha!*

Andrew also seemed a changed man upon returning. He became very quiet and very dependent upon the approval of others. Every day, he asked Percy if he was TRULY Percy’s best friend. Suzanne also became quite annoyed with him, but this rather because Andrew became a drug addict from his encounter at the festival. In the course of his lifetime, he had several chairs bounce off his head from yours truly.

Tony was still convinced of his superior singing talents, and revolutionized the theater of England. While he never amounted to much on the stage, he eventually wrote several musicals and operas by himself and became what some consider the greatest musical theater playwright in history. Nearly all of these plays were written from Tony’s new home after the time travel ~ Percy’s basement. Also, strange mention seems to fall in all of his plays as to the bad guy being named “Raoul” and the good guy “Erik”. Every showing also seemed to reserve Box 5 for, seemingly, no one.

Armand continued on with the Backstreet Boys through the rest of their 15 minutes of fame and was the saddest when the group broke up. Some attributed the breakup to the fact that Armand broke much of the group’s costumes and props and always seemed to be saying the wrong thing, but nothing can be put in stone to the positive or negative. He lived out the rest of his life singing and looking around for a time machine to take him back.

The author now spends her time writing fanfiction to annoy Chauvelin further, hanging out on messageboards with other insane people, and throwing chairs at Andrew. It’s a great way to relieve stress, after all. And they all lived pleasantly ever after.

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