The new owners of the old yet elegant opera house in England were trying to find a new leading lady to star in the show that was suppossed to be performed in two days.
The old singer had been the lead of the play for about five years. Even though no one had told her that she had a positivly gruesome singing voice that was much too scratchy and high-pitched for anyone's taste, she had quit in an episode of fury when a curtain had fallen on her, knocking her to the ground. She had mostly quit because of embarressment rather anything else.
The men had grovelled, but not nearly as much or as sincerely as she had liked. So she stormed out of there, taking her fluffy white poodle with her.
While all the commotion was going on onstage, no one had noticed the dark figure up in the rafters, smiling at what a well job they did at getting the pompous woman away from the opera house. Satisfied with their work. The long cape trailed behind as the masked figure left.
"What are we going to do Giles? Two days before the Grande Opening of the year and we don't have a star!" said Mr. Travers as the two men watched the horrid woman drive away. "We are really not off to a great start. Copis is going to regret ever selling us this place no matter how old and worn out he is. He will surely ask us to give his opera house back. I mean I wouldnt....."
But Rupert Giles did not let him finish. "Quentin do be quiet. There is no need to fret. We'll just have to find us another singer. A much better one if you ask me." Travers let the conversation drop as they went in to find a new lead for the production.