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Date of Scene: 14 July 2021
Location: Broadway
Synopsis: In which Gar unleashes unspeakable horrors on an innocent Broadway production.
Cast of Characters: Gar Logan, Terry O'Neil

Gar Logan has posed:

The musical is known all around the world, and to some extent the film is as well. One thing is, unsurprisingly, adored more than the other.

The touring show is coming to Metropolis, and so is the the PR cycle. Cats in costume on the morning show, Cats in costume with shelter animals, Cats in costume doing...catty things, so on and so forth.

When Gar learned Metropolis was going to be on the list - and really, any of the three major cities in the Northeast would have been good enough - he pulled Terry aside and demanded they go see it. "Maybe I can even get us in for a rehearsal, a little behind-the-scenes thing!" he exclaimed. After all, he /was/ a famous actor and teen hero, and that's got to be good for something. "So how about it?" He wanted Terry to want to go, too. It'd be more fun that way.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Why not?" Terry had said, looking up from his book. He looked for grocery receipt that had been on the table in between the pages in lieu of a bookmark because A) he usually never read from actual physical books and therefore B) seldom had bookmarks on hand. But, just as it so happens, the battery on his e-reader had ran out. "I never got to see the thing when it was big, I was born kind of around the time it closed on Broadway!"

Not able to find the receipt, he instead gave up and dog-eared the corner of the page to mark his spot. Which might have confirmed the suspicions of a few Titans that he was chaos incarnate and the ruination of all things. "Go ahead and use your influence and get us in."

Gar Logan has posed:
"Yeah, so was I. But..you know, it's kind of one of those things you have to see at least once, right?" Gar says, though he knows Terry's had a poster or two on the wall. He'd seen them himself, some time prior. "Part of me just wants to see all those costumes up close. I'd definitely spring for seats up close for the actual show."

Then he gets to having his people (as in, him) calling their people (as in, whoever he can get through to), explaining the situation while certainly not fanboying whatsoever (as in, maybe just a little), before they're given the go-ahead along with a time to come by the theater where they happen to be setting up for a full dress rehearsal. They'll get a tour, get to meet some of the performers, and maybe even a surprise or two.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"I'll Cat Up for it," Terry says, shortly before leaving for the theater. He takes pains to make sure the look is right for dropping in on the production: Black leather jacket, blue jeans and of course... fur. "If anyone asks, I'll just tell 'em I'm an extra in the Lion King and I'm on my lunch break!" he says with a toothy grin.

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan squints. "They didn't wear leather jackets in..oh, right. I get it." Lunch break. Vorpal did say lunch break. "That was a pretty good show too, by the way. And you're already gonna be able to pass for an extra. Maybe they'll let you have a background spot for a show?" Doubtful, but a young, eager guy can wonder.

He at least puts on a polo shirt and a pair of long pants, good shoes, and makes an attempt to comb and style that wild mop of hair to some extent. It doesn't work all that well, of course.

When they arrive, they check in with security and are given guest passes to wear, even if they're clearly Titans and therefore not just the typical visitor. First things first - meeting up with someone on the production side for a little run-through of what's okay and not okay.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"There weren't Cheshire Cats in the Lion King. But who is a stickler for detail nowadays, right?" Terry chuckles.

A background spot on a show isn't a thing that happens just like that, especially in shows that are focused heavily on dance. But it was nice to dream, wasn't it? The run-through is your standard set of rules- most of them are common sense, and others are focused exclusively on safety. Nothing Gar hasn't seen as part of a filming cast.

"Since nobody knows we are here for now, I doubt any supervillains will want to interrupt, so we should be good!"

This gets a couple of nervous glances, but that's about it.

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan extends a hand to cover Vorpal's mouth at that. "Ixnay on the illainsvay," he says quickly, offering up a bit of laughter that's about as nervous as the looks they get. "My boyfriend here, he makes bad jokes /all/ the time. More than I do, sometimes!"

The focus on safety is to be expected. Nobody wants to /actually/ break a leg here, due to an accident or any other reason, but they do get to watch a few things from sides of the stage the paying public don't have the privilege of seeing. It helps them see some of the choreography and timing that goes into changing scenes and all that, making sure everyone is in their proper places as well.

"This is pretty cool," he whispers to Vorpal, and it's clear he's beaming the more this is going on.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"I hear the scene change for the pirate tale is pretty creative. Growltiger, that's what the number is called. They make a pirate ship out of junkyard stuff..."

Arms crossed, the Cheshire raises his eyebrows. "Geez. The guy who plays the black cat. I'm an actual cat and I'm not /that/ flexible. Are we sure these people aren't ferrets?" he whispers. leaning into Gar.

"You know, I wonder if I could incorporte some dance into my workout regiment..."

Gar Logan has posed:
"Bet we could make some stuff out of the junk we've got lying around," Gar says, watching intently before he says a little too casually, "The black cat? Is that the one you had the poster of, or a different black cat?" He might be looking at Vorpal a little more closely just this moment, less on the dance number the performers are going through.

He does remark, "I don't think I'd ever be able to dance like that. Damn." As he studies all of this, the snaggletooth shows back up.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Garfield Logan you leave that poster alone!" Terry hisses quietly. He looks around just in case there are any eavesdroppers, because you never know. Fortunately enough, there aren't any ears close to them just yet.

"And besides. You were in a lot more posters than he was. And in any case, /that/ Misto has been retired for years now and has been teaching in a school up in North Carolina school of the-"

He pauses. "Not that I looked him up or anything. I was doing research for an article."

"... for Lois."

Gar Logan has posed:
Grinning, Gar nudges Vorpal in the side. "I guess you don't need the posters of me any more, but..uh," he says, pausing while watching leaps and twists and turns taking place, leaving him to scratch the back of his head in awe. "What was I saying? Right. That guy you totally just admitted to stalking? He /did/ look pretty damn cute all costumed up. I can't lie."

He totally can, but about this? Not so much. "I saw a lot of fans kinda, you know, shipped him with that other one. What was it, Tums?" He's feigning ignorance, isn't he? Isn't he??

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry glances at Gar, giving him the most skeptical look anyone has given since the throng said to Saint George 'You've killed a WHAT?'

"Tums. Right. They shipped him with a digestive aid. Because doing all of those turns leaves you very queasy."

A slight smirk appears on his face, "The costumes are cute, but it's the makeup that sells them. Imagine, these guys spend two hours covering their face with grease paint just so that they can copy my ineffable feline perfection!"

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan crosses his arms at the expression he's given. Can't quite hide the amused little grin that's taking shape, the tooth poking out again. "And that's why I don't try to dance like that. Nobody wants me to lose whatever I ate earlier. But yeah, they look good. I know it's just airbrushed outfits and this and that and paint, but for people pretending to be cats? It's pretty good."

He lowers his voice in adding, "Perfection, haha. But..I kind of liked Misty, too. He's cute, but the guy playing his buddy just sort of..you know. He has it."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry rolls his eyes, "Gar. That's a dance belt," he says, clearly teasing Gar as far as he can tonight. "But yeah. Misty is meant to be cute. Everybody thinks the white cat is supposed to be the cute one but more often than not she's just plain vanilla."

Gar Logan has posed:
Blank look. "Dance belt? What?" Gar asks, either not getting it or doing a very good job of pretending he's not getting it.

He's back to watching the rehearsal, getting a good look at some of the dancers and performers as they come off the stage or pass by en route to taking their places, and he briefly waggles his fingers at the ones playing the two characters they've been in conversation about.

"Now /that/ one's more colorful than I remembered," he points out as the villain of the show goes through part of his performance.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"He does seem a little bit on the technicolor side... very much eighties," Vorpal crosses his arms and chuckles.

And then, he frowns for a second. His ear twitches, and he turns to Gar. "Did you hear that?"

Hear what? It's hard to hear anything over the rehearsal music and the sound of dancers working on the floor. And yet, it seems something is bothering him. He looks like he's listening to something just beyond the threshold of normal hearing...

Gar Logan has posed:
"Almost like he was inspired by some of your fashion choices," Gar offers in a deadpan, glancing between Vorpal and the costumed performer, a brow lifting slowly.

Then it speeds up at the question. "Nnnnoooooo? What should I have heard?" he wonders, now squinting as he takes to turning partly this way then the other way, as if the source of something he's unaware of is simply just going to be there to spot. "All I can hear is the show, dude."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Just what exactly is wrong with my fashion choices, pray tell?" the Cheshire cat asks Gar, but it's clear that his banter is not fully focused. He acts a little distracted.

He even toes over further back into the wings, as if he were trying to hear sounds coming not from the house, but from the complicated bowels that makes the backstage area of the theater. "I thought you /liked/ my outfits..."

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan follows up. "When did I say I didn't?" But he, too, is more distracted than not. "And seriously, dude, you're worrying me a little bit. Is something back there?" he asks, making to follow after a moment. He does so by practically creeping along, like he's trying to go as silently as possible.

This would be a good way to catch whatever's there, should there be trouble to deal with. Just what they'd need, the cast as well.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"I ... don't know. I thought I heard... something." The cat glances back at Gar, and frowns. "Just to be safe, you know?"

He starts walking backstage. He is aware that their VIPs suddenly caught wandering the hallways would be sus as hell, so after they step into the backstage area, his powers of illusion conjure up the appearance of the Misto and Rum Tum Tugger... the two actors who aren't onstage at the moment while the actress who plays Bombalurina is rehearsing the cues for the 'Macavity' song, hence the presence of the villain.

"I figured this was the best way to go about it. But I hear something... weird... what's downstairs?" he mutters, looking every bit like the Rum Tum Tugger.

Leaning into a door, he looks at the chart that is put there for the purposes of fire safety, and ahs.

"Dressing rooms. This way. C'mon. I hope I'm just hearing things..."

He opens the door and starts making his way to the under section of the theater, skipping steps twice at a time.

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan opens his mouth to say something as he raises a hand, and he can see the illusion not just in Vorpal, but himself as well. "I..wait, did you just..?" He turns his hand over a couple times, poking at his arm as well. Illusions are just that, though. "Ohhh. I get it."

Blend in, get away with being around here because they look like members of the Cats cast, now. "You look pretty good like that, you know," he can't help but add as 'Tugger' makes his way for the dressing rooms once finding where they are. "Pssh. I could've told you how to get there just fine," he boasts, but he follows along to keep the pace by now.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
The dressing rooms are quiet. This is not a surprise, as almost the entire cast is upstairs, either watching from the house or in the middle of their numbers. So, what called Vorpal's attention?

Suddenly, the lights flicker in the entire corridor, so that for a moment they are in complete darkness. And then, they come back again.

"That... shouldn't have happened," the Cheshire cat whispers. A high pitched sound, something akin to a wail, sounds suddenly. He turns and frowns. "And neither should /that!/ Come on... it came... from over here..." he points at the end of the corridor, a room with the door ajar.

Gar Logan has posed:
Too quiet! No, not really. Just right since the place is basically deserted. "This is starting to feel like some kind of--"

Gar/Misto lets out a sudden "Eep!" as the lights go out, and he does not actually have the eyes to adjust to the darkness with yet. Fortunately, it's short-lived and he's left to stare at Vorpal/Tugger. "You think?" he blurts. "Unless they forgot to pay their electricity bill!"

Which leads to him jumping in place at the cry. "Uhhh, we /did/ come to see them rehearse Cats, not Phantom of the Opera!" But there's the door, and..this could be a thing out of Scooby Doo.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Vorpal glances over at Gar and shushhes him. "More than one musical at a time is asking for trouble, Gar."

He leads them down to the door, and just as he is about to reach for it to open it further, it slams shut!

"Not exactly what I'd call hospitable now, is it?" he mutters, and tries the latch, giving it a good shake. But it doesn't budge.

"Hon... do you think you could manage to get to the other side and open the door for us?"

Gar Logan has posed:
"No kidding," Gar retorts. "Too many musicals at once just gets confusing!" He pauses to glance behind him to see just how good the illusion is. Tail! Not exactly like a real one, however. Seconds later, as they're on the verge of checking out the room, the way it slam on them sees him rounding on his special friend. "You realize this is completely weird," he says flatly, but there's a bit of an edge to his voice that suggests it's affecting him enough that he's not sure what's going to come next.

At the request to go in and open the door, he puts a finger up and opens his mouth to give an opinion on that, then he seemingly changes his mind. "Yeah. I can do that." He more or less disappears, but in fact turns into a little mouse so he can squeeze under the gap in the door. First things first.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Upon the other side, Garmouse will find a very peculiar sight.

The actors who portray Mistoffeles and the Rum Tum Tugger are in the room. However, they are not, as it were, standing on the ground, but hovering in mid-air in the dead center of the room. Both men are staring straight ahead, completely unaware of the world around them, which is glowing with a green, eldritch light, Everything in the room seems to be moving slightly, as if a breeze were blowing within, but no such breeze is actually felt. Costumes wave in their racks, playbills undulate on the counters, even the tail-belts on the performers' costumes sway gently. There does not appear to be anyone else in the room, and the light appears to come from everywhere and nowhere att once, without one defined point of origin.

Gar Logan has posed:
"Ummmmmmm you should probably see this," Gar's voice comes from the other side of the door, sounding like it's rising in the sense of the level it comes from.

Unlocking and opening the door would help Vorpal with that. Does the illusion return with him leaving the mouse behind? "For a moment I remembered it's not the best idea to be a mouse around a couple of cats," he adds, the words hushed as the door does, in fact, click open. "Something's really weird in here."

The two floating, in full costume, the rest of the room's contents rustling visibly, as he turns back toward Vorpal while giving him room to enter. "See?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"This... isn't normal."

Vorpal's understatement of the century comes from a quiet, awed voice as he watches the figures floating in midair. The illusions that kept them disguised are still in place, as Gar returns to his form. This is how Gar can't see that, under the illusion, some of Vorpal's fur is standing on end, as if he could sense what was going on.

"We... are not qualified to deal with this. We need someone like Raven, or-"

Whatever he was going to say next is interrupted by every door in the corridor suddenly slamming itself open with a sound that echoes down the corridor, and the green light seems to spread from every dressing room until it is omnipresent.

And stepping out of the stairwell, a transluscent figure. It is imposing, a tall man with fly-away hair, attired in an old-fashioned suit and tie in a most impeccable manner. Although there is nothing inherently menacing about the man's face, as far as faces go, the blazing green lights that emanate from his eyes are definitely very intimidating.

He raises a hand and points it at the duo.


It is a voice that is felt rather than heard, produced as it was by no natural means. "You!"

And that's when the man tears off the floor and floats /at/ Garfield and Terry, barreling down the hallway.

"This way!"

Terry reaches for Gar's wrist and starts running down the corner, towards the innards of the theater.

Gar Logan has posed:
"Or the Scooby Gang, or the Ghostbusters," Gar blurts out. This is too realistic to be fake, and he hasn't been thinking of it as potentially fake for some time now. Just as he's starting to reach for his mirror image, the real performer, the doors are flying open. It all happens in a moment, faster than it seems like he could get a response out, then he's left staring wide-eyed at the display down the hallway before the see-through being turns up.

"That's..a..a.." He pales, or rather would if it could be seen past the already pale appearance in the face, gesturing toward himself. "Me? Us?" The floating follows, and the next thing he knows he's high-tailing it after Vorpal once his arm is taken hold of!

Terry O'Neil has posed:
As it turns out, some ectoplasmic apparitions aren't as fast as the locomotive power of a good pair of legs. Or maybe the ghost is the kind that enjoys a theatrical chase, who knows?

~You... ruined... everything~ comes the wailing voice. It is very hard to pinpoint, but it's not hard to hear. ~You... and your ... empty... spectacles....~

"What on Earth is he talking about...?" Vorpal grumbles. They come to a crossroads- to continue along a corridor, or taking the stairs up to a higher plane of the building. He turns to Gar, "Up or down? "

Gar Logan has posed:
"Spectacles? What spectacles? And why are they empty?" Gar is asking as the pursuit continues, if not the fastest one ever known. He gives Vorpal, still with the illusion like him, a confused glance at this.

Doesn't look like there's any answer forthcoming from either of them on what that could be all about.

"Let's stay down here. Maybe we can circle back around and get the others to snap out of it. I don't like the way they were just floating there." This sort of thing is really not his specialty.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Tell me about it! But we can't exactly do-"

The light behind them coming from around the corner intensifies, and the cat grabs Gar and runs for it.

It is a pretty extensive run, weaving in and out of rooms, and even into a section that seemed very disused. The green light chases them here and there, but it seems as if their ghostly assailant has limited perception abilites, as he does not manage to pinpoint them.

The room that they finally come to is a dusty, packed affair. Vorpal closes the door quietly behind them, and then makes a start when the lights turn on by themselves.

Further examination would reveal that it's just a motion sensor, after all.

".... wow... look at this place."

It's definitely part of the historical section of the theater. They may have read about how a section fo the old theater from the early twentieth century had been perfectly preserved, and this is clearly one of those rooms. In fact, the other door to this room appears to be the one that the public would access from the other side of the house, thus leading into the main public area. It appears to be locked.

"Would you look at this..." Vorpal says, briefly distracted from their plight and admiring the collection if items that recreates one of the cafes that used to exist within the theater. It's definitely an upclass place, with luxurious seating, tiffany lamps, and a gamut of photographs lining the walls of the venue, featuring starlets and other potential past ephemera of Broadway history.

Gar Logan has posed:
Right now, Gar is simply trying to catch his breath. No, he isn't out of shape. It's just that the adrenaline is pumping and so is a sense of fear and wonder. "Just keep going!"

They do, the path not a standard one by any means, until they reach an area that appears to just be..older than the rest. The rooms aren't much different, but the contents certainly are. Another jump in place at the light, and he shakes a fist at the motion sensor. At Vorpal's urging, he gives the interior an examination. There isn't a lot of time for it, but enough to see him gravitate toward one of the walls. "Yeah, uh, I know we're supposed to be running but..jeez. The stuff in here is really old."

It's the photos he finds himself looking at, and after passing one he goes back to it and points. "Look. It's that guy! Lord Dark Helmet! I mean..Helmut, uh, Berni-Cassell. Who is..oh, right." Out with the phone, on with a quick search. "Composer, like a hundred years ago, some musicals that were pretty good but it sounds like stuff left him behind and everyone forgot about him. Probably all alone. But some people are getting into them again." He shows the info, mentioning the musical that's due to open soon nearby. 'When I'm Bad I'm Better.' "What do you make of all this?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Vorpal frowns and looks over Gar's shoulder. "... I've never even heard of this guy, wow..." he glances at the wikipedia page and frowns some more. "Huh. I'm beginning to see. Empty spectacle. Gar, he's not talking about glasses! He's talking about modern shows!"

And then a commotion from the main house calls their attention. The Cheshire cat gestures to Gar and they sneak out into the main house, once they unlock the door.

When they get back into the main house, it's pandemonium. The ghost has taken over and all of the performers are floating in the air, in a similar trance to what had been previously observed. Hovering over the seats is the deranged maestro, vituperating against 'flim flam productions' and 'substanceless pap and pomp!'

"... He's... pretty sour grapes about this. I wonder what caused him to manife..." Vorpal pauses, not daring to continue the thought that just entered into his mind. What if the presence of his chaos magic had something to do with it? "... what do we do?"

Gar Logan has posed:
"Neither have I!" Gar exclaims, palms out to the sides as he remains looking like the character Vorpal chose. Then, "..oh, is that it? The dude is obviously green with envy."

He can't help himself, suddenly laughing uncontrollably for a few seconds, gasping for a breath by the time he's done. "I needed that."

Said noise from back out there leads to him looking warily at Vorpal-Tugger, and it's back to creeping along until his jaw just about drops. "This really isn't good," he whispers. "He's using old-sounding words, which..kind of tracks when you think about it. But look! They're all..do they even know what's going on?"

At the question of what to do, he bites his lip so that snaggletooth makes a more obvious appearance, then he makes a choice. "Just follow my lead. Hey, you! What's the big deal? Why are you doing this? They didn't do anything to you!" Vorpal might gather that Gar already worked out the why, but if it gets the ghost talking...

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Gar wait, what are you-" But it's too late. So Vorpal follows Gar's lead.

"Yeah! what's the big deal?"

The ghost turns its irate eyes upon them, like two small searchlights.

"They are debasing my profession. These... so -called performers... so-called artists. More like circus clowns!" he clenches an irate fist and raises it to the ceiling. "If there is no room for /me/ in this travesty of Broadway, then there shall /be/ no Broadway! How dare they forget me! How dare---" the green figure pulses white with rage for a moment, and then returns to its eldritch green.

"Gar.. you better know what you're doing!" Vorpal says quietly, as some of the seats start getting torn from their moorings and floating upwards."

Gar Logan has posed:
"When have I ever known what I'm doing?" Gar half-whispers, half-hisses back at Vorpal as the appearances remain still. He's winging it, really. Guessing, but also using what he just learned.

Clearing his throat, as a hand goes up instinctively when a few seats are dislodged to float like the performers, he says, "Circus clowns are performers too, dude! They make people laugh! And help them feel like things are okay when they're sad! Just because you don't like what someone thinks is good doesn't mean it's bad! And..you know..taste is subjective! I know about you, Helmut! You were hot stuff at one point, but when people started going to see other stuff it left you in a bad place! That sucks, I know! A lot of the stuff I've done, well, people haven't liked all that much. But I keep trying!"

Even if it's been a while since he landed a decent role, now.

"But anyway, did you know 'When I'm Bad I'm Better' is gonna be opening down the block soon? Someone found out about it and liked it enough to try to bring it back. That's gotta mean something, right?" That's it - appeal to that side of the ghost's ego.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
The haggard image of the composer stares at Garfield for a long time, all the while dancers and furniture fly around in slow, ponderous orbits. Finally, when he speaks, it is with a voice as dry as chalk. "You lie. No. You lie. If they had remembered... if they had, I would have heard about it."

Suddenly, the ghost dives so quickly towards Gar that he covers the distance between them in a heartbeat, stopping but a few inches from the green Titan, hands spread like claws. "How dare you lie to me!"

""He's not lying to you! Gar, prove it!" Vorpal says, reaching out to grab Garfield and yank him back from the ghost.

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar-Misto flinches at the reaction, but a hand goes up both to encourage the ghost to slow down but also to signal to Vorpal that he's got this. Or so he hopes. The reproduction of the makeup job causes his face to look very earnest and eager as he futzes with his phone, nearly dropping it as the ghost bellows and rages and grows more menacing before them. "Hey! Hey! Easy! I'll show you!"

A recent news piece is pulled up, showing a mention of the show due to open soon, with an old-style playbill created that looks like it honors the original. "Check it out. This guy says he always liked what you did and wanted to pay tribute by bringing it back so people could see what it was all about. I'm not making it up!"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Slowly, ever so slowly, the dancers and furniture start floating to the ground, falling gently, like feather. The green eldritch light that had subsumed everything becomes fainter and fainter, until it is only centered around the spectral visitor, whose eyes are shining less brightly, less intense, to the point that his pupils can be seen now.

"... where? Where is this going to happen?" he asks in a voice that is as soft and as fragile as an autumn breeze.

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan's eyes widen again as the performers and everything else begins to creep back toward a normal state of things. It's..working? So far. He flashes Vorpal a quick glance. Don't do anything dumb or sudden, the eyes and face seem to say.

"..yeah, so it's gonna be at this place just..that way," he says, pointing in the right direction once he's checked his orientation. "It says here that he hopes to bring a new appreciation of your work to people today, and try to do more if it's successful. That'd be good, right? That you wouldn't be forgotten, but remembered?"

Then he offers, "We know a lot of people. We can help make sure it has a good crowd."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"There... are going to have to be rehearsals. Auditions. They must do the preliminaries... did they open well in Peoria? So much to do... so much to do! I must.. yes. They will need... I must show them how it is to be done!"

The ectoplasmic manifestation doesn't even thank Gar, or even acknowledge his presence anymore. He darts towards the wall and, passing through it, disappears in the direction Gar pointed.

And as soon as it had begun, the anomalous happenings cease. The dancers on the stage look around dazed, and one of the cast members says in a confused, strained voice "... what.... "

Vorpal turns to Gar and gives him a smile. "Oh well, I never- was there ever a guy so clever as Garfield..."

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan's hands go up. "Wait! You should try to trust--" But it's too late. The ghost is gone.

At least they know where he's going to be, and in the immediate aftermath the performers are released from the version of captivity they were in. Illusions dropped, the cast sees Gar and Vorpal for who they are, the VIP guests from before.

"Dude, that doesn't sound half as good as the real line," the green one says to Vorpal as an aside, wondering more under his breath, "But what have we unleashed on the people working on that other show?"