#cats?

Chap. 1: Caspers Come To The Casper Ball

Danny rubs his hand down his face before glaring down at the paper again. Normally, he wouldn't really give half a shit what option won, seeing as normally he'd avoid participating in this kind of thing entirely. Unfortunetly, Danny's grades are still solidly shit, better than they used to be, but still not exactly great. His grades are just good enough that he won't get laughed out of every single college in the tristate area, but not good enough for him to actually get accepted anywhere. Considering he wants to try and get at least one college certification, he needs to get his grades up. Meaning he can't afford to miss out on extra credit... extra credit that he does actually stand a chance at getting anyways. He's not nearly brain-dead enough to try signing up for the math olympics, or whatever Jazz said it was called; he would suck so bad and just embarrass himself horrifically.

Granted... this isn't much less embarrassing. Danny knows he can do it, and do it well; he and Ember haven't gotten close for nothing after all. Sure, that was more about him not wanting to either get knocked on his ass by his wail or accidentally kill someone with said wail. He really shouldn't have been surprised that vocal training with her turned into outright singing lessons; she was a singer at the end of the day, after all. Even Danny knows he's got damn good range too, still got a little bit of his young little boy high notes and Dan's deep baritones. Is it traumatic to hear that from his own vocal cords? Yeah, just a touch. He also wouldn’t have put it past that psychopath to start singing while killing people, purely to be dramatic; meaning the act of singing doesn’t really make him feel any better about his voice, at the end of the day.

Shaking his head harshly and refocusing on the paper in front of him, right now he should just be focusing on deciding what musical he wants to vote for, and thus have to suffer through actually participating in. Rather than the most traumatic day of his entire life, only rivalled by his own literal death.

…

He was so not doing anything remotely Shakespearean purely on principle, and to annoy Lancer for all but making him do this shit. Lancer knows he needs the extra credit, and Danny knows the man knows that. If Epic the Musical was on here, he'd probably pick that one, but that's too 'new age' for Lancer's tastes. Technically, Danny could probably talk the man into it, but that would absolutely result in Lancer expecting him to be even more involved in this whole show. Hard pass.

Sighing again at the paper, you know what, though? He could be funny and mean, and vote for goddamn Cats, obviously the show would follow the original play and not the horrific movie, but making everyone wear terrible cat suits and reminding them of the movie's existence would be pretty hilarious, actually. Oh, and he'll get to mock Tucker with a bunch of furry jokes. Also he’s pretty sure that musical is about death or something? So it’s very on brand for his spooky ass. Yup, Danny's sold on his choice now. Will it win? probably not, but oh well.

Danny stares down at a nice shiny new paper, flabbers gasted, chuckling and muttering to himself, "holy shit, it actually won". He’s honestly not sure how? He could see maybe one other person voting for it as a joke.

Lindsey glares at him from her desk next to him, "oh so you're part of why that monstrosity won. ugh".

Star sighing, "you know girl, the original is actually pretty good. Just suuuuuuuper long".

Danny smirks, "I vote we do the movie version". Please let no one take him up on that.

"NO!".

Even Lancer shakes his head, "most definitely not, Daniel". Danny just shrugs, can't blame a guy for trying, especially when Danny doesn't even want to get stuck doing that version either. Lancer clearing his throat, "I'll allow you all to pick your rolls, but no one is to be taking on more than two significant character rolls, preferably only one".

Paulina huffing daintily, "I vote only people who can actually sing should be allowed more than one".

"Ms. Sancheez, there will be no bullying your classmates for their vocal prowess during this, please". Multiple people sigh, knowing that the girl absolutely will be doing that.

Todd puts up a hand, "I vote we make sure Danny has to do two, make him work for those extra credits". Danny hurls a pencil at the kid who smirks at him, "what? You're the one who actually needs it, otherwise you would absolutely be skipping". Danny hates that the guy's right. Damn him.

... Danny is so going to owe Ember a thank you gift for her past self saving him from some major singing related embarasment, isn't he? Smirking, "then I vote we all have to wear the skin tight suits, floppy tails and weird costumes". See Danny spends enough time in a skin-tight suit to not care or ever really notice, but everyone else? hell no. He's not remotely surpised almost everyone in the room starts groaning at him, groaning even louder when Lancer nods approvingly.

Emily smacking a hand on her desk, "oh Danny has to be the old cat lady who dies, 'cause we have to kill the alive Danny".

Danny making a face, "I'm not a woman, though".

"You will cross-dress and be happy about it".

Well... at least this won't be the first, or even twentieth, time he's had to cross-dress for some reason or another. Why is his life like this? "So I'm going to have to wear a ratty fur coat in heels? You suck". Or better yet, they can just make the character a guy… though fine it’s funny he’s playing the dying, or half dead already, character.

"Why do you even know her outfit off of the top of your head?".

"I'm lazy but not so lazy that I can't watch a goddamn musical movie. And if ya'll are sticking me in heels then I call dibs on that black and white Mistofo-whatever guy". Danny was down for voting for things purely for a good joke, but he did want to actually mildly know what he was signing up for. So fine, he watched the musical, sue him.

Someone muttering, "holy shit, Danny actually did work beforehand. That's got to be some kind of sign of the apocalypse". Even Lancer is giving Danny some weird looks, thoroughly embarrassing Danny.

Todd jumping in, "I'm claiming whoever the villain is". Absolutely no one is surprised by this.

Paulina putting a hand to her chest, "I'm claiming whoever’s the cutest", waving her hand at Star, “second cutest, obviously”. Star clapping her hands happily even if her smile’s just slightly pinched. Paulina turning on Emilie, “and since you actually do ballet, you can be that, hmm, white one?”.

Lancer sits back down in his seat, “yes well, you can chose your roles amongst yourselves, just try to avoid taking on more than you can handle. However, I’ll be playing jennyanyd and old deuteronomy”. Everyone either laughs at that or shakes their head, of course the ex-cheerleader drag queen of a teacher would want to be part of this whole thing.

Danny snickering, “at least you’re playing an old guy”.

Lancer hums, “remember, Daniel, someone has to play Gus and Jellylorum, the real ‘old guy’ and ‘old lady’ as you say”. Danny cringes dramatically. “And the person who plays the lead, Munkustrap, can only play that one; I hope I don’t have to explain why”. No one argues with that.

Danny grins, putting his hand up slowly, “Wes. That’s what he gets for skipping”. If Danny must suffer then he’ll absolutely take Wes down with him.

“You’re only sacrificing him to the role because of spite!”.

“Well he did skip so it’s his own fault”.

“And the guy screams and rants so much that he’s clearly got the pipes to talk sing whatever for two hours”.

Charlie tilts his head, “isn’t there a sexy guy cat that all the girls are going to have to faun over? Who’s doing that? And what about the fat one?”.

Lancer smirks, “Bustopher jones doesn’t do much, easy on the bones, I’ll do him as well. And do remeber Rum Tum Tiger, or the ‘sexy guy’ has a strong singing role; I’d rather no one embarrass themselves”.

Emile rolls her eyes, “this is sounding like an excuse for you to star in a musical. And it’s a musical, we’re all going to be embarrassed”; Lancer doesn’t deign to respond to that.

You know, Danny’s pretty sure almost no one here can actually sing decently… except maybe Lancer, Danny’s not going to claim that he knows all that man’s talents. And he supposes Paulina’s probably been trained by her folks, since that’s the type of hoity toity people they are.

Todd huffs, “I can totally do sexy and singing, I’ll do him”. Multiple people groan, that was so not going to go well. At least this saves Danny from having to possibly offer himself up for that.

Star shaking her head, “so Wes gets to be the main guy, Danny the dead girl, Emile the dancer, Paulina as Paulina, and Lancer basically every big character”, blinking, “what’s Kwan going to do?”.

Kwan shrugs, “eh there’s some hero type cat right?”. Everyone just kinda shrugs, guess Kwan’s playing the cat version of Phantom. Damn Danny shoulda called dibs on that one.

And then, of course, Wes finally shows up. Danny jumping up and slamming his hands down on his desk, “congrats! Wessy! You get to be the lead cat!”.

Wes scowls, “I hate you”.

Was it even slightly surprising that everyone wound up arguing about who had to play the two old characters that weren’t already covered? No, no it wasn’t.

Danny huffing, “I’m already playing one old character, y’all can fuck off”.

Lindsey rubbing her temples, “yeah well I can only do up so much of this screen play nonsense without knowing who plays the old fart. And I’m already doing too much to take on yet another role, I’m not going to be a one woman show”.

“Well Todd gets the sexy guy so he can also get the least sexy guy”.

“Oh hell no!”.

“Fair’s fair, shit head”.

“You wanna fight about it!”.

Charlie grumbling, “I’m pretty sure we all are already fighting”.

Todd huffing, “I’ll do that railway cat, and since he does his solo thing right after old guy, I can’t do both”.

Danny pointing at him, “say that to my face, I’m pretty sure I’m stuck doing shit constantly”.

“You’re the one who needs extra credit super bad”.

“Ugh”, Danny rolling his shoulders, “besides your ‘villain’ cat is right after your ‘railway cat’ so….”.

“Even more reason I can’t be the old guy”.

“You kids sound like you need some help here”; basically half the table jumps at the janitor butting into the conversation. “You know, I’ve done some plays in my high school days”.

Emilie throws up her hands, “fine! We’re recruiting you now. You got a wife?”.

The janitor blinks, “you’re much too young for that, dearie-”. Danny puts his head down and starts wheeze laughing.

“Oh zone no! We need an older lady to sing a duet with the older guy! EW!”.

The janitor rubbing his chin, not looking offended in the slightest, “ah yes, I suppose she could do that”.

Danny throwing his hands up in the air, “OH THANK THE ZONE!”. And claps the janitor one on the arm, “you are our saviour, my poor grades thank you”.

Paulina makes a face and mutters to herself about the gross working class, which thankfully goes ignored by everyone but Star and Lindsey.

Danny is legit seriously glad for the janitors sacrifice, since Danny absolutely would have been forced into the old man role.

Now there was only one big issue, how to get outfits that don’t look too horrifically stupid and ugly…. Tucker’s got a bunch of otter tails which could pass as cat tails, but only a handful, so at least Danny will have a tail that’s not a bunch of stitched together socks. He needs something more than that…

For once -well maybe not ‘for once’, this has happened a time or two before- a ghost actually solves Danny’s problems. How? The GhostWriter… who had angry been tapping on his window minutes ago and is now mildly ranting about ‘this play he heard about and how dare Phantom be okay with that kind of rhyming and not poetry’.

How does this guy ranting at Danny help him at all? Simple, he can bind books so he can definitely stitch clothes; Danny just… has to talk him into it. Zone he’d rather this be a fist fight.

“-I have catalogued books longer than you have been capable of disappointment, and yet somehow you have managed to invent a brand new literary crime: apparently liking musicals while hating poetry. That is like adoring cake but declaring war on flour”, pointing aggressively at Danny, “which I wouldn’t put it past you to do”, huffing, “you obviously hate poetry. Which is just plain over dramatic for someone who apparently happily watches entire casts burst into rhyming musical numbers every twelve minutes. Do you think those lyrics descend from people’s minds fully choreographed? No. They begin as lines. Metered, measured, carefully balanced lines. Poetry. Tiny, precise beautiful lines of language. Musicals just throw a bunch of unsightly glitter onto them and shout louder! Words don’t need that kind of emphasis, you brat!-”.

Danny makes a face at the man, Danny is basically the king of unnecessarily emphasizing things. Emphasizing things with his fists and wit, that is.

“-And don’t give me that face. You haven’t earned the right to make that face. Because that is the face of someone who claims poetry is boring and ‘stupid’ while memorizing every lyric to a three-hour production about emotionally volatile strangers who solve their problems through synchronized singing-”.

Bold of the man to assume that Danny’s memorized jack fuck all. Though songs were easier to remeber than most other things, and more fun too.

“-You sit there, eyes shining, heart pounding, while someone rhymes ‘fire’ with ‘desire’ for the seventeenth time, and you call it art. My scarf can create better lines! But put the same rhyme on a page, remove the spotlight, and suddenly you react like I’ve handed you a brick of anguish-”.

To be fair, this guy literally basically used books and poetry to psychologically torture Danny for a prolonged period of time. So a ‘brick of anguish’ is not inaccurate.

“-Let me make this exquisitely clear. A musical is a poem, yes poetry, that people got foolishly tired of being read quietly, so they decided to recruit a gaggle of backup dancers. That’s it. Strip away the orchestra, the costumes, the dramatic lighting, and what remains? Words. Rhythm. Rhyme. Structure. Poetry, standing there in its natural habitat, how dare you only respect it when it sings at you!”, quoting mockingly, “‘oh but musicals ‘tell stories’’. Of course they do! What do you imagine poetry has been doing for the last several thousand years? Decorating shelves? Poetry has told stories of war, love, betrayal, gods with questionable judgment, mortals making even worse decisions, entire civilizations rising and collapsing in verse. It has done all of this without a single over dramatic bow, which frankly shows remarkable restraint-”.

More like a lack of pizazz and a lack of dedication to the bit, in Danny’s opinion. All those things the ghost listed were supposed to be dramatic… though bowing after doing a war would be so horrifically insensitive; even Pariah, an actual warmonger, probably didn’t do that.

The GhostWriter scowling, “oh but ‘poetry is hard to understand’. No. Poetry requires you to meet it halfway. Musicals drag you by the collar and yell their feelings directly into your face with a full brass section for emphasis-”.

Minus the brass section, that just sounds like what ghosts do or try to do to Danny on a daily basis. He’s even got the scars and open wounds to show for it. At least they use fist and not song, if all the ghosts sang at him every single time, Danny would probably fully give up on the whole ‘wanting to still be marginally alive’ thing.

“-Poetry hands you the same emotion, distilled, sharpened, and says, ‘Here. Pay attention’. You don’t dislike poetry. You dislike having to listen without being serenaded into submission. Your rhymes spoon-fed by a chorus line-”.

Okay Danny can acknowledge a good oneliner when he hears one, he’s banking that one. Not that he thinks he’ll ever get to use ‘your rhymes spoon-fed by a chorus line’ in any kind of fight, unless he winds up fighting a musical instrument or something. Winds up fighting a wind instrument, HA.

“-It is the same skeleton, child. The same bones. Rhyme, rhythm, imagery. Musicals are simply poetry wearing a very loud costume and insisting everyone look at it, like some kind of debaucherous whore-”.

A decent insult, but potentially a little too sexist for Danny’s tastes. Calling an inanimate object a ‘debaucherous whore’? Hmmm yes very funny. Calling someone dressed skimpy a ‘debaucherous whore’? Boo bad.

“-And you have the audacity to clearly enjoy one and dismiss the other as if they are entirely unrelated species, as if one did not evolve directly out of the other like some beautifully dramatic linguistic creature discovering it has legs and deciding to sashay away-”.

Oh geez is the GhostWriter into drag??? Danny did not see that one coming.

“-I refuse to accept ‘I just don’t like poetry’ as a valid stance. You like it just fine. You crave it, in fact. You just require it to arrive with choreography and emotional overstatement. Which means your problem is not with poetry. Your problem is with silence”, and now the GhostWriter is floating there huffing very dramatically.

Danny… does actually do pretty poorly with silence, like, just in general. He’s a quipy bastard for a reason. Blinking at the wheezing ghost, “are you done assaulting my ear drums?”.

The GhostWriter scowls, “I can hardly be assaulting them any further than all the fanfare you stuff your head full with”.

Danny blinks again, “dude, I don’t actually like musicals”, pressing his hands together and pointing them at the ghost, “what I like is a bump in my gpa”, taking a deep breath, “and for the millionth time, I hated that specific poetry book because it was about Christmas, not because it was poetry. Will you let that go already”.

The GhostWriter crosses his arms and scowls, “why would an English teacher give extra credit for, of all things, music”.

Danny quirking an eyebrow, “I don’t know, maybe because music involves words”, muttering under his breath, “when there’s singing anyways, which they’re very much is in this… unfortunately”. Danny might like singing now, thanks to Ember, but he’s positive that listening to everyone else sing is going to be physically painful. Shaking his head and eyeing the ghost some more, “and because he’s really into musicals right now. Heck, Lancer’s the one you should be giving all this word vomit to, not me!”.

“He’s not my future king, you are”.

"Oh, bite me". The guy’s sadly got a point though. Damn. “And anyways, when you sing ‘save meeEEEeeEEEeeee’ it’s sounds great, when you write it, it just looks stupid. So there. I still think ninety nine point nine percent of musicals are unbearably corny though, not that I’ve seen all that many”. Danny didn’t have the time to go around watching things that he’s not solidly sure he’ll like. His free time is a pretty scarce resource. “Anyways anyways, now that you’ve used me as your personally verbal punching bag for the better part of an hour, why don’t you put those book binding skills to good use and make a bunch of dance ballet or whatever leotards. So that your princy doesn’t end up looking unbelievably stupid in front of the masses, and so that everyone else looking stupid doesn’t make him, aka me, look stupid by proxy”.

The GhostWriter glares at him, “I didn’t come to accost you, only to get turned into your handmaid”, and turns to start floating out of Danny’s window.

Danny lunging at the ghost immediately, “oh no you don’t!”, grabbing the guys scarf and yanking him to the ground. They roll around a little before Danny gets him pinned firmly enough for his liking, “you bitch at me, you be my bitch”. The GhostWriter’s head thunks into the floor.

See the thing is, the GhostWriter has just enough sense of responsibility to actually do a task well when asked, even if asked a bit forcefully, so long as he couldn’t really reasonably refuse doing it. And well… Danny was technically every ghosts sorta future boss, not that he usually ever did anything with that particular fact.

The ghost sighs, “at least give me a physical copy of the acurs-ed script you’ve deigned to use, for my library”.

Danny rolling his eyes, getting up and wiping his pants off, “yeah sure, whatever. I highly doubt anyone will want to read a Highschool revision of Cats”.

“It’ll be filed and recorded for its historical value”.

“My everyday life should not be what counts as historically valuable”.

“Then perhaps you should stop acquiring royal titles, if you feel such a way, Phantom”.

“With my luck? HA. I’ll get another by noon”. If that does actually happen Danny will stab himself, repeatedly.

Tucker shakes his head at Danny, handing off a box, “now tell me why, again, do you get your spectral deliveries sent to my house”.

“Oh maybe because your parents won’t confiscate it, and because you get ghost mail from Technus all the time already. Meaning, your folks won’t even bat an eye”. The mild friendship between those two was a little weird but not unexpected. Techno geeks gotta stick together right? Even if one was a megalomaniac.

Tucker shrugging, “point. His tech may be dated but he is still a genius with the stuff, and it’s not like it’s any different from you befriending Ember”, smirking, “minus having to deal with a jealous violent boyfriend”.

“I’d be worried about his health if he ever decided to give up on trying to taxidermy me”, shifting the box under his arm, ten bucks this thing’s bigger on the inside than the outside, “anyway, I should probably hand this stuff out before everyone makes asses of themselves by actually wearing the ugly storage closet shit they’ve likely put on”.

“Dude, you didn’t even tell them?”.

Danny’s grin is absolutely malicious, “I’m dead, I’ve earned the right to be dramatic”.

“I’m not sure you can even get more dramatic than this mess”.

Danny’s grin only gets more malicious, “watch me”.

Tucker lifts up a professional camera, “oh I, or we really, will”.

Shit. Oh well too late. Clips of this was totally going to wind up on TikTok or something, wasn’t it? Dash was going to get so much new amo to harass him with. Fuck his life.

Was basically everybody in storage junk? Yeah, what the hell else were they all gonna wear? Most people don’t exactly own cat patterned dance-safe clothing. Sure some people, mostly the girls, have animal print leggings and long sleeves but that’s basically it. Less costume and more animal themed day clothes. The sock tails and cheap half broken animals ears are really impressively ugly. And of course, Paulina’s the only one with an actually matching set.

And Danny knows Lancer’s drag queen ass has made his own outfits, meaning everyone here would look even worse by comparison. Once again, Danny to the rescue.

Danny plopping the box on a table very loudly, “sup, bitches, I brought the fashion”, glancing at Lancer as the teacher judgingly sticks his head out of a side room, “except for Lance, he rocks he’s own fashion”.

The man narrows his eyes, “whatever it is, the answer’s no, Daniel. Flattery will get you nowhere”.

Danny muttering, “it used to get me somewhere”.

“That was before I knew your ways better”.

Danny just rolls his eyes before opening up the box and lifting up a couple of leotards strategically layered with close to broadway accurate fur styles and patterns. Danny smirking at the man, “are you sure I can’t bribe you?”.

Lancer’s over in a flash, inspecting one of the suits with stars in his eyes, sounding almost breathless, “did you steal these?”.

Emilie chuckles, “I like how that’s his, and everyone else’s, first assumption. Now gimme because what I can see looks way better than a sock puppet tail and zebra print dress pants”. The pants really deserved to be set on fire.

At least the all white outfit is the easiest one to find, Danny handing it over obediently, “first off, these were acquired legally”, shrugging, “just had to pin a guy down for a little bit, pinned down nonconstentually”.

Charlie muttering, “he does realize that that’s illegal right?”.

Danny points back at him, “ghost, human law need not apply”.

“Well then you really could have stolen it and it wouldn’t be technically illegal!”.

Kwan blinking, “oh man, did you shake down a dead actor from the musical? Sick”.

Todd huffing, “stealing from a dancer can’t be that hard”.

Danny turning around and chucking the two boys their couple of outfits, “oh my zone no I did not steal anything. I asked a librarian, who’s made a hobby out of book binding his own creations, to ‘book bind’ fur to fabric instead. He’s gonna file the script for this nightmare in his library in return”, looking to Lindsey, “so it better be good, or goodish, little miss group writer”.

She sighs but walks over to find her outfits, “why am I the one who keeps getting more work piled on me”.

Paulina fiddles with her hair a little, “maybe if you were prettier you’d have better luck at getting out of it”; making the other girl flinch. Crossing her arms and huffing, “and I’ll still be doing everyone’s make up, not like any of you can be trusted to do this face right. And I am so not cool with having to look at poorly done cat face paint for, like, literal hours”.

Danny absolutely throws the Latina's suits at her face, before pulling out his sequined monstrosity of a tuxedo leotard. It’s as much of a flashy eyesore as he’d hoped it would be.

Lancer shakes his head, still looking slightly awed, “I wasn’t aware you’d befriended the GhostWriter, Daniel. And I’d prefer to wear my own creations, that I spent considerable time on”.

Danny quirking an eyebrow, “I figured, and you say that like you know the guy”.

Lancer shrugging, “we’ve done drag shows together a time or two”.

Oh holy shit the GhostWriter actually was into drag! Weird… Does drag just attract the book lovers of the world or something? Even if the GhostWriter doesn’t seem like the right kind of over dramatic for drag. Eh oh well, it’s not like Danny’s one to judge. Smirking, “win anything?”.

“I’m not nearly that good, Daniel”.

“Oh don’t sell yourself short, you’ve fooled me”.

“That’s not the compliment you think it is, nor is that the difficult task you think it is”.

Danny gives him a mock look of offence before slipping away to put his sequin feline nightmare on. Charlie shrieking, “the tails actually move! WHY!”, as the door clicks shut. Danny’s got questions about that, questions he absolutely will not be asking.

Wes slams open the door as Danny tugs on the stupid black and white sequin leotard he unfortunately agreed to. Zone he looks like a monochrome disco ball. Wes scowling, “just remember you did this to yourself, Phantom”.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny”.

Wes looking him up and down, “maybe your friends should stick sequins on that suit of yours”.

“Convince them of that and I’m going to bejewel all of your conspiracy nutjob folders”.

Wes gasps dramatically before scowling, “just give me my damn outfit”.

“What? Don’t want to wear a bedroom curtain or whatever they set aside for you”.

“No. Absolutely not”.

“Well tough shit”.

“I hate you”.

Danny rolling his eyes, “unclench that ass, I did bring you an outfit too”.

“I didn’t know you were capable of being considerate”.

“Do you want me to incinerate it while you’re wearing it?”.

“Good luck doing that with everyone's eyes on me, thanks for that by the way. You jerk”.

Danny shakes a noisy arm at the wannabe sleuth, “this thing is armed with a wrist ray, I’ll have you know. I get to be late, I have responsibilities, you do not. Anyways, let’s get this over with before Lancer gives himself an excitement induced stroke”.

Wes grimacing, “I hate that’s actually possible”.

“Yeah that man gets way too into his hobbies. Case in point, this bullshit”.

Danny walking up to the group, watching them all finish setting up while Wes is off getting changed, “I am putting in exactly zero more effort, praise me”. Lancer’s already in fat woman cat drag, practically shaking in excitement. Yeah he might actually give himself a stroke or heart attack. Thank the Ancients the man was doing lazy roles, geez.

Lancer clapping his hands together the best he can, “okay places people, and yes I know this is supposed to be fun, but do try to do well. And-”, eyeing Danny, Wes, then Todd, “-don’t intentionally make everything go pear-shaped, please”. Emile kicks Todd one for pouting like he had been planning to mess things up, then the group gets to grouping and doing this stupid literal song and dance.

Chap. 2: Casper Cats

Cats, as performed by the students of Casper High School.

Annotated by Lindsey Chanely

CAST ON STAGE:

Danny: Fentabella and Mr. Dannyoffelees

Todd: Toddavity and Rum Todd Tugger

Paulina: Paulinandra and Paulinalurita

Star: Starima and Staryany

Lindsey: Lindseymeter and Lindseyteazer

Emilie: Emilieoria and unnamed cats

Kwan: Kwanojerrie, Kwanpus cat, and unnamed cats

Charlie: Charliebrutus and unnamed cats

Wes: Westrap

Lancer: Old Lanceronomy, Lancertopher Jones, and Lanceryanyd

The school janitor: Gus

School janitors wife: Jellylorum

*We realized after that none of us actually asked the janitor or his wife what their names were, so sorry no funny names*

(Midnight. Not a sound from the laminate. Suddenly an explosion of music and lights reveals a vibrant

school scape. Vast overhead lights illuminate the entrapping landscape of textbooks and tired eyes, catching the darting image of hurrying teen cats running around on all fours. A stunningly beautiful black cat poses almost out of sight like she’s readying for her photo shoot).

(Fentabella, an old weathered cat that barely looked alive, appearing once more, wanting to rejoin his classmates and be a part of the celebration. He stretches out his hand behind him, hoping another cat will touch him; not daring to look back. He is still not accepted and, disappointed, he shambles off, as if his body was heavy as stone, into the bathroom). *Look at Danny really putting in the work for that bonus, be nice to him*

Act 1: ALL THE TEEN CATS ARE GATHERED FOR THE ANNUAL CASPER BALL

MUSIC 1: OVERTURE

(Teen cats slink out and crawl about). *we’re not sure why we had to include this, Mr. Lancer, we get being accurate but everyone was just kinda wiggling around waiting for it to end*

MUSIC 2: PROLOGUE – CASPER SONGS FOR CASPER CATS

(Westrap, a fancy looking orange cat, crawls on his belly across the hallway floor).

Westrap: Are you blind when you’re born?

(Lindseymeter, an lean tabby cat, head popping up from behind a trash can)

Lindseymeter: Can you see in the dark?

(Singing continues on as the teen cats all dance around, jumping over trash cans and ducking in and out of lockers).

(Rum Todd Tugger, a flamboyant glam rock-looking rosetted cat, turns dramatically out from behind a locker)

Rum Todd Tugger: can you say of your bite that it’s worse than your bark? *Oh zone, he cannot sing, why did we let him do this??? And why did he make those faces????*

ALL: BECAUSE CASPERS CAN AND CASPERS DO. CASPERS DO AND CASPERS CAN

(Staryany, a striking red cat, crawls across the floor; tail swishing up in the air of its own accord) *we feel fear of Danny’s presents, please confiscate them*

Staryany: Familiar with ghost, with book and with bell?

(Emilieoria, a small dark orange cat, and Paulinandra, a stunning black cat, prance hand in hand).

Emilieoria: Are you lean like a lynx?

Paulinandra: Were you there when the pharaohs commissioned the sphinx?

ALL: IF YOU WERE AND YOU ARE, YOU’RE A CASPER CAT

(Mr. Dannyoffelees, a sequinned black tuxedo cat, and Emilieoria, a stunning white cat, dance together surprisingly gracefully. So much so that someone might actually worry that Mr. Dannyoffelees might throw Emilieoria out of sight). *Okay we knew Emilie could dance but since when could Danny???*

(Everyone does something similar to Pilates moves that might pass as dancing for a while)

Mr. Dannyoffelees: (gestures grandly) Casper cats come out tonight, everyone come to the Casper ball

Westrap: (shoving Mr. Dannyoffelees to stumble away) Once a year the Casper cats gather for the Casper ball, to find out what Casper cat will be grabbed by ear or by tail. By the crowned Casper cat, to the heaviside layer. Old Lanceronomy, who will announce which Casper cat gets to be reborn into a new Casper life. And Caspers ask because Caspers dare, who will it be?

(Emilieoria moves through controlled ballet poses by a door) *you should be impressed, this is impressive, please notice. She copied the movie kind of perfectly*

Act 2: CANDIDATES FOR THE HEAVISIDE LAYER

All: SO, WHO’S GONNA GO TO THE HEAVISIDE LAYER?

(Teen cats mumbling and chattering incoherently)

Kwanojerrie: (An orange cat leaning back dramatically) perhaps Lanceryanyd, who sits and sits and sits, with her tabby stripes and mounds of fur.

(Lanceryanyd in her mounds of orange furry glory comes prancing out through a door, knocking and kicking at rubber mice on the floor. The teen cats grab them and throw them back again and again) *yes your drag fat cat suit looks nice, Mr. Lancer*

Lanceryanyd: those mice aren’t nice.

Kwanojerrie: yes I have a quite sizeable cat in mind.

(Westrap leads Lanceryanyd off to a window sill)

Westrap: she loves anything smooth and flat.

Lanceryanyd: but when the days hustle and bustle is done, this cats work has hardly begun

Mr. Dannyoffelees: a kitty that busy surely shan’t move on!

Paulinalurita: (puts a leopard patterned elbow on Dannyoffelees) It must be, Kwanojerrie! (Tap dancing in spot with eager delight)

(Cats disagree with mocking)

Starima: (a spunky stripped red cat prancing over and putting her elbow on Paulinalurita’s shoulder) For me, it must be Paulinalurita! (Waves a hand down her body in a show of sexiness)

(Cats disagree again)

Charliebrutus: (a rough looking brown cat sticks his head between the two girls, sending everyone crashing down) No, it should be Lindseyteazer!

(Cats laugh hilariously)

Mr. Dannyoffelees: (jumps up with a finger in the air) No away hosey, it must be RUM TODD TUGGER! (All cats yowl with excitement and adoration) *Danny’s got pipes and we are confused, pretty sure at least three people flinched*

Music 3: THE RUM TODD TUGGER

ALL: THE RUM TODD TUGGER IS A CURIOUS CAT

Rum Todd Tugger: (explodes out from a classroom) meow *this is the most cringe thing he has ever done, give us strength and pray he never does it again*

If you offer me pheasant, I’d rather have grouse (Rum Todd Tugger shakes his chest fur ridiculously and continues doing his dance and song) *we all apologize deeply for letting him do this*

ALL: THE RUM TODD TUGGER IS A CURIOUS CAT

Rum Todd Tugger: (shaking his hips in Starima’s face) and there isn’t any need for me to shout it

Mr. Dannyoffelees: Rum Todd Tugger is a terrible bore.

Rum Todd Tugger: (shoving Mr. Dannyoffelees away with a crotch thrust) I’m always on the wrong side of every door. I’ll make such a fuss if I can’t get out. *why did he try to sound and do that like Micheal Jackson here???*

ALL: THE RUM TODD TUGGER IS A CURIOUS CAT

Rum Todd Tugger: (fake sits on Lindseymeter’s back) And there isn’t any use for you to doubt it

Westrap: For he will do as he do do

Paulinalirita: The Rum Todd Tugger is a curious beast

Rum Todd Tugger: My disobliging ways are a matter of habit. *he messed up this pronunciation SO MUCH*

Paulinalirita: (shimmy dances back to back with Rum Todd Tugger) He doesn’t even care for a cuddle, unless you don’t

ALL: THE RUM TODD TUGGER IS A CURIOUS CAT

(Rum Todd Tugger shoves Paulinalirita away and to the floor, who hisses and swats at Rum Todd Tugger)

(Teen Cats suddenly converge on Rum Todd Tugger and shower him with complimenting meows, some barely able to hide their disgust at his awful voice. An off scene newspaper hits Rum Todd Tugger for doing one too many hip thrusts) *spare us*

Act 3: Fentabella the glamorous cat *Danny is still mad we made him use his last name for this*

(Fentabella enters and wants to rejoin the Casper class, but the class refuse him, fleeing his presence immediately. Rum Todd Tugger flips him off and pretends to go to smack him with his tail, refusing to actually touch the haggard old cat. Many teen cats hiss, three try to claw at him).

Fentabella: (stares his face into Westrap’s own) Remark the cat who hesitates toward you. In the light of the door, which opens on him like a grin. *these two should kiss. Wes and Danny sitting in a tree, K. I. S. S. I. N. G. Danny has seen this comment and threatened to eat the paper if it gets written again*

Fentabella: (hitting a pitch loud enough to shake a few things and scaring Jellylorum, a older patched black and white cat) YOU SEE THE BOARDER OF HIS COAT IS TORN AND STAINED WITH SAND. And you see the corner of his eye twists like a crooked pin. He doesn’t need your disdain, he just needs you to stay. *after asking, apparently a ghost gave Danny singing lessons but he won’t explain why and we hate that. Blame him. And apparently the only reason we didn’t all already know this, is because we’re all asses he wouldn’t dare make a lyrical sound around to avoid band geek mocking*

(Paulinandra slinks majestically around, hissing at Fentabella)

Lindseymeter: He’s haunted many a vacant restroom.

(Lindseymeter makes some dance-like peeing motions, as Westrap watches Fentabella seriously)

Lindseymeter: You really had thought he’d ought to be dead! Who would ever suppose that that was Fentabella, the Glamour cat?

(Multiple gasps are heard)

Paulinandra: The supposed beau of the ball, the glamour cat.

Fentabella: (turns round and round almost fearfully) You scorn his battered skin, retreat blind to his fight. You say he fades a little more every night.

Fentabella: (throwing arms out at the cats around) He seeks you, you hate him too. He loves you, you loathe him too.

ALL: (everyone gesturing from a distance at Fentabella as if to shoo him away) WHO WOULD EVER SUPPOSE THAT WAS FENTABELLA, THE GLAMOUR CAT?!

Fentabella: (Fentabella leaves with sadness because of the rejection he received from his class. Voice barely heard in the distance) This hope will be his tomb.

Emilieoria: Don’t worry about that one, he won’t go to the heaviside layer.

(Teen Cats all agree with thrill and passion)

(A fat tuxedo cat enters, struggling through a doorway)

Charliebrutus + Kwanojerrie: oh it’s Lancertopher Jones, the one who’s not skin and bones.

Mr. Dannyoffelees: (rushes in through a window. Stage whispering) in fact, he’s remarkably… fat.

(Lancertopher Jones waddles around getting greeted by every teen cat and clearly soaking it up) *we know that’s a fat suit, Mr. Lancer, and you enjoyed this way too much*

Starima: (bowing dramatically) the smartest of names.

Westrap: (saluting) in every hall of fame.

Lancertopher Jones: My visits are occasional, to the Senior Educational. And it is against the rules, for any one cat to belong both to that, and any Non Amity Schools.

(Everyone nods aggressively).

Mr. Dannyoffelees: (awe inspired nodding) indeed, only here can he be found.

Lancertopher Jones: And just before noon's not a moment too soon, to drop in for a drink at the Drones. When I'm seen in a hurry, there's probably curry.

ALL: AND WE’RE ALL OF US PROUD, TO BE NODDED OR BOWED TO, BY LANCERTOPHER JONES IN THE WHITE SPATS.

Lindseymeter: It can be no surprise, that under our eyes, he has grown unmistakably round.

Lancertopher Jones: (waves at all the teen cats) I am still in my prime, I shall last out my time

Starima: so certainly not he who will go to the Heaviside layer.

Act 4: THE CRIMINAL TWO

(The school ceiling alarms start blaring)

Emilieoria: What happened?

Westrap: (exagruatedly searches around the surroundings) Its Toddavity!

(Kwanojerrie, and his matching classmate, Lindseyteazer slink quietly through the hall carrying clearly stolen soap dispensers)

Kwanojerrie + Lindseyteazer: We're a notorious couple of cats. As knockabout clowns, quick-change comedians.

(Kwanojerrie and Lindseyteazer run and jump around the stage, grabbing and stealing away random things, including an entire water fountain)

Kwanojerrie + Lindseyteazer: Kwanojerrie, and Lindseyteazer, have a wonderful way of working together.

Mr. Dannyoffelees: (head popping out of a locker) when you hear a dining room smash.

Rum Todd Tugger: (head popping out of the same locker but slightly higher) Or up from the pantry there comes a loud crash.

Charliebrutus: (head popping out of the same locker but slightly higher) Or down from the library there comes a loud ping.

Staryany: (head popping out of the same locker but slightly higher) From a vase that was commonly said to be Ming.

Mr. Dannyoffelees: (The four teen cats tumble out of the locker) Then family will say: "Now which was which cat?”.

ALL: “IT WAS KWANOJERRIE AND LINDSEYTEAZER!". *Danny set this up, no one asked how*

MUSIC 4: OLD LANCERONOMY

Westrap: (stepping forwards in awe) Old Lanceronomy

ALL: I BELIEVE IT IS OLD LANCERONOMY *again, you’re enjoying this way too much*

Westrap: Old Lanceronomy's lived a long time. He's a cat who has lived many lives in succession. He was famous in proverb and famous in rhyme.

Rum Todd Tugger: (gesturing grandly halfway out of the bathroom door) Old Lanceronomy's buried nine wives and more, I am tempted to say ninety-nine. And his numerous progeny, prospers and, thrives

Jellylorum: yes, we are proud of him in his decline

ALL: WE DO BELIEVE IT IS OLD LANCERONOMY

Old Lanceronomy: (a shaggy black cat speckled with white shambles out and places a hand on each Casper cat in turn) My legs may be tottery, I must go slow. And be careful, of Old Lanceronomy.

Westrap: (gesturing grandly as Old Lanceronomy sits down) Casper cats meet once a year, for the Casper ball, and now that the Casper Crowned Cat is here, we can all cheer.

(Every teen cat begins to dance, jump, twirl, crawl, and roll. Putting on a show for its the time for a show).

(Then through a window jumps in a black spandexed cat with Phantom’s symbol on its chest. Kwanpus cat bares his teeth). *yes we know he should have a K symbol but we’ve got to pay respects to Phantom. Danny still thinks he should have played him instead, but we all say he doesn’t suit the role; Wes would make more sense even. And we know he only wanted the role to piss of Wes and make a joke*

Westrap: THE GREAT KWANPUS CAT!

Westrap: (Westrap and Kwanpus cat start fight dancing) He gave a great yawn and his jaws were a-mazing. You’ve never saw anything fiercer.

Mr. Dannyoffelees: or hairier!

(Rum Todd Tugger shoves over Mr. Dannyoffelees, and looks quite proud of himself)

ALL: PRAISE TO THE GREAT KWANPUS CAT!

Westrap: They say he’s striped with storm and flames, a riot stitched into a name. With eyes that spark like struck flint bright, and claws that argue with the night.

(Multiple cats rear back in both fright and delight, as Kwanpus stomps around, looming over random cats)

Westrap: Some say he battled ghosts of old. Some say he hunted fierce and bold. Some say he fought his shadow twin, and neither lost… nor could they win.

Mr. Dannyoffelees: (jumping forwards at some cats) But grown cats lie when kits are near, they dress up truth to hide the fear.

(Kwanpus looms over the back of Mr. Dannyoffelees, but bounds away just before Mr. Dannyoffelees turns around)

Westrap: (turning away from Kwanpus and Mr. Dannyoffelees dramatically) Even bold Rum Todd Tugger once froze mid-strut, his laugh cut short, his swagger shut. And bright Mr. Dannyoffelees dropped his light. For tricks don’t work on Kwanpus’s night.

Mr. Dannyoffelees: (tiptoes around in a circle, Kwanpus follows, scaring all those behind with dramatic flare) He comes in wrong, too fast, too wide. Like too many cats share one inside. A shifting, slipping, tangled thing. With teeth that hum and eyes that sing.

ALL: (Every cat falls back as Kwanpus cat jumps high and stomps off scene) PRAISE TO THE GREAT KWANPUS CAT!

Act 5: CASPER BALL

Old Lanceronomy: (hushing the group of teen Casper cats): Casper cats all must know, like undertakers come to dust.

(A ceiling light shatters, sending the teen cats scattering).

Lindseymeter: TODDAVITY!

Emilieoria: (slinking back out): Casper Cats are black and white.

Paulinandra: Casper cats know how to dance and prance.

Westrap: until the Casper moon appears.

Kwanojerrie: If it happens to be a stormy night. We will pracitce a ball pass or two, in the hall.

ALL: CASPERS COME TO THE CASPER BALL

(All cats try to twist and move slowly in unison) *yes we know we weren’t very successful at this*

(Old Lanceronomy watching curiously as Mr. Dannyoffelees takes centre hallway stage, performing pirouettes, Old Lanceronomy not managing to avoid looking truly baffled) *we were all baffled too, no shame*

(Rum Todd Tugger attempted to join only to fall on his back side and scurry away. All other cats make a varitity of dramatic motions and poses).

(Paulinandra and Starima move across the front with a dramatic salsa moments before Old Lanceronomy steps forwards to make calming pacifying motions at the class. All stretch and yawn and lay across the floor, making a cat pile).

(Moments pass until they all sniff at the air and flee once more)

Fentabella: (stepping out with a hope filled face, expression dropping as he faced the empty hallway) Moonlight. Not a sound from the pavement. Has the moon lost his memory? He is smiling alone. In the lamplight, the withered leaves collect at my feet. And the wind begins to moan.

(Old Lanceronomy stands and eyes the ‘old cat’ as Lindseymeter rushes out purely to shove him and flee again)

Starima: (moves to slowly hold a hand out to Fentabella) You see the tips of his fur is battered and worn. And you see the tip of his, ear curled like a withered leaf.

(Lindseymeter yanked away Starima, leaving Fentabella alone once more to dance weakly alone) *someone clearly signed Danny up for this as an excuse to be mean to him. He looked genuinely sad and hurt, it was kinda painful actually*

Fentabella: (dropping his arms as if they’re too heavy to hold up any longer, giving up the dance) All alone in the moonlight. I can smile at the old days, I was beautiful then. I remember the time I knew what happiness was. Every streetlamp seems to beat a fatalistic warning.

Fentabella: (Old Lanceronomy reaches a hand out for Fentabella as he staggers away) I must wait for the sunrise. I must think of a new life, and I musn't give in. When the dawn comes tonight will be a memory too.

Act 6: GUS THE THEATRE CAT

(Every cat begins to slowly come back to the hallway, cautiously, as if looking for the forsaken one. Jellylorum leads along Gus, an old ragged cat)

Old Lanceronomy: (eyeing the teen cats, shakes his head) Those moments of happiness, we had the experience but missed the meaning. And approach to the meaning, restores the experience.

Starima: (stands up suddenly, defiantly. As if to make a point) Moonlight, turn your face to the moonlight. Let your memory lead you. Open up, enter in.

Westrap: If you find there, the meaning of what happiness is. Then a new life will begin.

(Multiple teen cats crawl towards the sitting Gus, Jellylorum rubbing his arm).

Jellylorum: His coat's very shabby. He's thin as a rake. And he suffers from palsy that makes his paw shake.

Jellylorum: (looks back to Old Lanceronomy) No longer a terror to mice, or to rats. For he isn't the cat that he was in his prime. Though his name was quite famous, he says, in his time.

Gus: I'd a voice that would soften the hardest of hearts, whether I took the lead or in character parts.

Jellylorum: (shaking Gus when he seems to nearly pass out as if to pass away) He will tell how he once played a part in East Lynne, at a Shakespeare performance he once walked on pat.

Gus: (looking off at nothing) And I think that I still can much better than most, produce blood-curdling noises to bring on the ghost. And I once played Growltiger, and I could do it again.

(Jellylorum moved to correct Gus’s step as he attempted to wander off. Old Lanceronomy held out a hand to him, Gus turned away, and Jellylorum shakes her head in sadness). *we all agree this is just needlessly sad. Cat Alzheimer’s is just super depressing, why did we choose this play again? Also yeah, we got rid of the railway cat bit, someone couldn’t handle so many back to back active characters*

MUSIC 5: TODDAVITY THE MYSTERY CAT

(All the lights go out, startled, the teen cats cower)

Kwanojerrie: TODDAVITY!

(Evil cackles in the air, Toddavity, a intense red cat, twirls around on stage and abducts Old Lanceronomy)

Starima: wait, who’s Toddavity?

Westrap: Toddavity's a mystery cat, he's called the hidden paw. For he's a master criminal, who can defy the law. For when they reach the scene of crime, Toddavity's not there!

Charliebrutus: Toddavity, Toddavity, there's no one like Toddavity *yeah no one as bad at singing like Todd… Toddavity*

(Teen cats scurry around to look behind doors and under lids. Beside poster board and beneath toilet seats)

Lindseymeter: He's a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity. You may meet him in bleachers, you may see him in the book fare. But when a crime's discovered then Toddavity’s not there!

Paulinalirita: He always has an alibi and one or two to spare. What ever time the deed took place, Toddavity wasn't there!

Mr. Dannyoffelees: (lifts a trash can over his head and shakes it) He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a snake. And when you think he's half asleep, he’s always wide AWAKE! *Paulina was very mad at Danny for hurting her ears here*

ALL: WE HAVE TO FIND OLD LANCERONOMY!

(Toddavity runs and moves around the hallway, jumps at and jumps away from random cats. Crawls into lockers and back out of other ones. Terrorizing. Grabs Charliebrutus to drag across the floor, only to get pulled back to safety by a hissing Paulinandra).

Westrap: (jumps forwards to face Toddavity in a scratching hissing cat fight) Napoleon of Crime!

(Toddavity picks up Westrap and throws him) *we tried to talk them both out of this, Danny called them ‘bitches’, they insisted on this. Wes has a sprained ankle by the way*

(Three teens hover over the injured Westrap, Kwanojerrie and Lindseyteazer jump in to distract and chase off Toddavity. Toddavity shorts out the school hall lights as he fled)

Staryany: (sat back on her feet) oh how are we to find Old Lanceronomy.

(Many teen cats weep and sniffle)

Rum Todd Tugger: (slide out from behind a door) You ought to ask the magical Mr. Dannyoffelees, the original Conjuring Cat. There can be no doubt about that. Please, listen to me, and don’t scoff.

Rum Todd Tugger: (jumps down at the ground, gesturing at everyone dramatically) performing sur-prising illusions and creating ec-centric confusions. The greatest magicians have something to learn, from Mr. Dannyoffelees's conjuring turn.

Mr. Dannyoffelees: (pops out from a floor board) presto!

Rum Todd Tugger: His voice has been heard on the roof, when he was curled up by the fire.

Westrap: (with impressive violent glaring) Which is uncontestable proof, of his singular magical powers. *yes this got Wes back on his ‘Danny is Phantom’ conspiracies again. We will never be free*

Mr. Dannyoffelees: (twists and bends around shooting small ecto-rays from two wrist rays at the floor) Don’t blink, you might break the scene. Watch and behold, as reality splits at its cosmic seams.

Rum Todd Tugger: (gestures encouragingly at the crowd of teen Casper cats) And we all say?.

ALL: OH! WELL I NEVER! WAS THERE EVER, A CAT SO CLEVER, AS MR. MAGICAL DANNYOFFELEES!

Rum Todd Tugger: And not long ago this phe-nomenal cat, produced seven ghosts right out of a hat!

(Mr. Dannyoffelees produced a hat from the floor and out pulled the GhostWriter by his scarf. Chaos ensued). *we PROMISE that no one, but Danny, knew Danny was going to do that. Tell the tech department we are very very sorry about the ghost changing the lights into mites, and forcing Danny and Todd into a rap battle that was grossly out of place for this musical play. Anyways, we don’t know if you want that mess written or not so we did it anyways*

The GhostWriter: (bows exaggeratedly) I interrupt this show, to bring you more inspired flow. Introducing, Casper Pawbreakers.

Rum Todd Tugger: (struts. Hip rolls, tail flicks. Teen cats swoon dramatically. Paulinalurita nearly faints on cue) I prowl in with a purr that could crack concrete. Got nine lives’ worth of rhythm in a four-on-the-floor beat. You blink, I’m adored, I don’t beg, I’m demanded. Every hallway, every desk, yeah, they’ve all been branded.

(Multiple teen cats move, scurry, as Rum Todd Tugger jumps and lands in the hallway stage centre).

Rum Todd Tugger: I don’t do ‘poof’, I don’t vanish or hide. I’m the reason every eye got a spark in its stride. You a bedtime story trick with a shimmer and tease. I’m the riot in the room, boy, remember the name please.

(Lights flickered then cut, a constellation of tiny white lights appeared, forming eyes) *we are not even going to bother to question how or why the ghost did this*

Mr. Dannyoffelees: Soft step, sharp mind, I don’t need to announce. Every move I compose makes the cosmos bounce. While you bark for applause, I let silence expand. Then I pull constellations like threads through my hand.

(Mr. Dannyoffelees kicked a poorly secured trash can up at The GhostWrite who dodged with an eyeroll)

Mr. Dannyoffelees: (A gesture of Mr. Dannyoffelees’s hand made everyone freeze) loud like a drum but hollow inside. I’m the echo that lingers when the noise steps aside. You chase every whim, like a tail in a loop. I rewrite the rules while you dance in the group.

Lindseymeter: I’m so confused right now, I can’t even ask how *we were all very horrified to realize we were all stuck in this rhyming thing too. We are mad at Danny*

Rum Todd Tugger: (leaps onto an overturned toilet) Rewrite the rules? Freak, I tearout the page. You perform for the dark, I command the whole stage. Your a whisper, I’m thunder, I’m a feast, your a taste. If this is a duel, then I’m first, last, and base.

Rum Todd Tugger: (crawls on all foes at Mr. Dannyoffelees) You hide in your tricks, like a cat in a box. Little Schrödinger’s cat. I’m the lock-breakin’ rhythm that shatters the locks. You got style, I’ll admit, but it’s neat, it’s contained. I’m the beautiful lion that can’t ever be tamed. Reow. *zone why did he have to do that again. Ew*

(The spotlight shifted in such a way as to make ten shadows of Mr. Dannyoffelees, suit shimmering wildly)

Mr. Dannyoffelees: Contained? No… refined. Every flick is a choice. While you drown in your volume, I sculpt every voice. You’re a spark in dry grass. A flash, a roar, then gone. I’m the spell that rewrites what the night stands upon. They use a tigers roar in all the movies, guess we know who’s the real beauties.

Mr. Dannyoffelees: (a prop magically restored itself) When the moment turns fragile, when hope starts to flee. They don’t call for the noise, they come looking for me.

(Rum Todd Tugger and Mr. Dannyoffelees circle each other, taking over exaggerated steps) *honestly, we think they were thoroughly enjoying this at this point. Jerks*

Rum Todd Tugger: I’m the pulse in their veins!

Mr. Dannyoffelees: I’m the dream in their sleep!

Rum Todd Tugger: I’m the chaos they crave!

Mr. Dannyoffelees: I’m the secret they keep!

Westrap: (throws arms out pushing the two teen cats apart, looks from one cat to the other and back again and again) It's news to me that it's news to you, to which degree who stands above who. You could go on and on, but in the end, who are you kidding? It’s my concinnity that is past infinity.

Mr. Dannyoffelees: (a wild smirk) concinnity? More like virginity.

(Westrap lunged at Mr. Dannyoffelees, the two rolled about on the linoleum floor, until they got blasted apart by what looked like book pages)

The GhostWriter: (a proud laugh) From the gutter to the glitter, from the shadow to the flame. Different paths to the throne, but kings all the same. So the night sings louder when they both take the lead. Magic and madness… that’s the Casper creed.

(The ghost vanished while he made ‘I’m watching you’ finger motions at Mr. Dannyoffelees. Mr. Dannyoffelees only gave a shrug before he twirled a hand at Pauliandra to come forth)

Mr. Dannyoffelees: The truth you seek, might kill the one you win. ‘Cause knowing the trick, spoils the state I’m living in. *what a way to tell us that he ain’t gonna explain shit*

(Paulinadra’s walk towards Mr. Dannyoffelees is stiff and not at all like how it had been practiced to be) *blame Danny, just blame Danny. He still deserves bonus credit though*

Mr. Dannyoffelees: (throws blanket over Paulinandra, and a yank back reveals Old Lanceronomy) So close the chapter, don’t break the spell. Some stories end, and never tell. And presto!

Old Lanceronomy: (Mr. Dannyoffelees grinned wide ready for his praise, Old Lanceronomy uncharacteristically swatted him over the head) Never was there ever a cat so clever as magical mystical Mr. Dannyoffelees. *none of us believe Danny feels remotely bad about everything or anything*

Mr. Dannyoffelees: (scurries off stage) You’ll never know if I was real, and that’s the point, that’s thee appeal.

Act 7: FENTABELLA MEMORIES REPRISE

MUSIC 6: MEMORY (reprise)

(Old Lanceronomy reached a hand out for Gus as all the Casper cats watched on in awe, only to be interrupted by Starima)

Starima: (guesturing a hand and head to the bathroom doorway) Daylight. See the dew on a sunflower. And a rose that is fading, roses wither away. Like the sunflower, I yearn to turn my face to the dawn. I am waiting, for the day.

(Old Lanceronomy turned, as if reminded of another, one more ready, more in need, more deserved).

Westrap: before the dawn, Old Lanceronomy announced the cat who can now be reborn. And come back to a different Casper life.

(Teen cats scramble up and away, Fentabella exits the bathroom that he had watched them from. Rum Todd Tugger gestured him forward with a sneer. Old Lanceronomy held up a hand with a soft smile) *everyone wants to know why the heck Danny gets forgiven so quickly for the craziness he always causes. Seriously*

Fentabella: Memory, anll alone in the moonlight. I can smile at the old days, I was beautiful then. I remember, the time I knew what happiness was... Let the memory live again.

Fentabella: (staggers around on stage haphazardly, teary eyed and weak looking) Burnt out ends of smoky days, the stale cold smell of morning. The ceiling light dies, another night is over. Another day iS DAWNING.

Starima: (sings, face to the windows, the ‘sky’ outside, as Fentabella collapses to the floor) Sunlight through the trees in summer. Endless masquerading. *If this wasn’t Danny we would have been worried he hurt himself from how loudly his body impacted the ground. But if he can walk off being run over by his parents nightmarish suv thing, he can handle tackling the floor with his entire body weight*

Starima + Fentabella: (Fentabella lifting his head up) Like a flower as the dawn is breaking

Fentabella: The memory is fading!

Fentabella: (forcing himself up and gesturing around at all the hiding teen cats) TOUCH ME! IT’S SO EASY TO LEAVE ME! ALL ALONE WITH MEMORY! Of my days in the sun. If you touch me, you'll understand what happiness is. Deem me worthy, to take a new form. Look, a new day has begun. *okay Danny was actually crying here, actually crying. Should someone be concerned about that or is he just really trying to get those credits. He does have to make up for summoning a ghost after all*

(Emilieoria cautiously approached the haggard cat, Fentabella once more stretched out his hand behind him, hoping another Casper cat will touch him; not daring to look back. Emilieoria placed her hand in his. The other Casper cats all approached in turn, touching Fentabella’s hand. Until he arrived to Old Lanceronomy)

Old Lanceronomy: (leads Fentabella away) The pain within since gone, this is where you belong. So join the song of the sky, come take your final climb.

Fentabella: To my ever after, a whole new chapter. If I never sing again, give me peace as I ascend.

ALL: UP, UP, UP, UP, TO THE HEAVISIDE LAYER.

(Fentabella disappeared in through the bathroom door for the last time)

Old Lanceronomy: You've learned enough to take the view. That cats are very much like you.

ALL: A CAT’S ENTITLED TO EXPECT, THESE EVIDENCES OF RESPECT. SO THIS IS THIS, AND THAT IS THAT. AND THERE’S HOW YOU AD-DRESS A CAT!

The GhostWriter: (head phased through the roof, startling nearly all those around) my opinion on musicals remains unchanged! Hardly more than poetry defanged!

Old Lanceronomy: (Old Lanceronomy proves the fire extinguishers used as props are real, foam is sprayed) feast your eyes on Hamilton, and tell me that’s not art!

(Green light cuts through the haze and foam, far more successfully chasing off and singeing the scarf of the GhostWriter)

Mr. Dannyoffelees: presto! I’m spoon-feeding you pain by a chorus line! *Danny looked bizarrely happy here*

Westrap: I hate you

(If all these cats had not been cats, if they had been in normal attire, then perhaps many would have fired off lipstick blasters and ray guns. Perhaps if Kwanpus hand actually been Phantompus he could have caught the ghost in his ever trusty thermos. Instead, with a guitar rift, Ember McLain appeared, and hog tied the ghost with guitar strings to plentiful cheers).

Ember: (yanking strings tighter on the GhostWriter) almost all of you need singing lessons, that was awful. No I’m not offering, one’s already a handful. Later, losers!

(And with that, the two ghosts depart and all the Casper Cats cautiously gathered together with Old Lanceronomy to take a bow to the crowd that’s not exactly small) *there, done, happy? Also, you could have told us this was going to be in front of other people, we are all very embarrassed. Also, what a way to find out Danny learned to sing from Ember, of all people or ghosts. Wes says that’s just more proof he’s Phantom, but we all agree that a ghost teaching another ghost who beats them up all the time, makes zero sense. If anything, Ember probably taught Danny to piss of Phantom or his parents, and Danny went along with it because he’s Danny and Danny is a problem*

The GhostWriter shakes his head at his copy of the paper, it’s not terrible per-say, but why did they have to actively cut out things that messed up the rhyming scheme? Eyeing Phantom and Ember, “as per usual, I regret every interaction I’ve ever had with either of you”. At least William got to use his drag skills during school hours, even if the man complained a little about the GhostWriters unneeded appearance and how good it felt to get off all of the heavy cumbersome suits William made himself.

Danny beams, “thank you!”, earning him a scowl from the ghost before turning his attention back to Ember, “anyways, I suppose I should thank you for dragging that asshole away. Guy almost ruined my absolutely not easy bonus credit”. Did Danny kind of do that to himself? Yeah. But he doesn’t care about that little fact one bit.

She waves him off, “it’s whatever, since that was great, babypop”, punching him lightly on the shoulder, “they gave you the right roles. Black and white magic cat and the dying cat”.

Danny chuckles a bit, “I think they just wanted to get to bully me on stage a bit, you’re not wrong though”.

“Also, way to cry onstage in front of a bunch of people. I’ve never even done that”.

Was that embarrassing? Yes absolutely. Danny’s very glad his folks were too busy with whatever project they’re working on to show up. Small miracles. Having negligent parents has at least some perks. Danny pointing at her, “hey now, that Memory song means a hell of a lot more when you already know what death is”; also Danny can absolutely relate to maybe wanting to get rid of his current body and start life anew.

“And it’s way too appropriate for you?”.

Danny nods, “and it’s way too appropriate for me”. After becoming Phantom, he’s basically got an entirely new life, and he was absolutely more genuinely himself at night -you know, under moonlight- these days. Then there’s the fact that he’s riddled with scars and traumas now, unlike all those happy old childhood days. The sheer number of times he’s been bandaging himself up waiting for the sunrise, when he’ll have to put on his happy little normal clumsy ‘I want nothing to do with ghosts’ mask and eat breakfast with his folks; the nights memories just more secrets or traumas or perhaps just more fun if he’s lucky, piled onto him.

Ember shoulder bumps him and points at the library ceiling, “well, come on, you idiot. Every good show does an encore”, turning to point at The GhostWriter, “we’re stealing your ceiling”.

The GhostWriter sighs, “please refrain from actually stealing it”.

Danny and Ember giving matching, “no promises”, before flying up to said roof.

The GhostWriter shakes his head, though smiling to himself a little. He might marginally hate the high prince, but he did love a good tragic character; and Phantom was an impressively tragic character, even if he was also an utter fool. Dark comedy at its finest, he supposes.

Hearing Phantom singing, “touuuuuch meeEEEE! it’s sooo eeeeasyyy to leeeEAVE MEEEEEE!”, really only emphasizes The GhostWriters thoughts, as he gets to work binding the script for his shelves.

End.