Fictional. Ah, yes. As if I've not heard that one before in the past, oh, I don't know, two thousand years, give or take? Hardly a new thing to tell the Boogeyman. Oh, you're not real. I'm not scared of you!

[ The last bit drops down into a furious snarl. Then Pitch regains his composure and is all smiles again. ]

Funny, this ... little bit of technology. Letting us poor, sad, fictional people get acquainted with what it's like to be real. I suppose that means you all can see me. [ His voice drips bitterness. ] Well. I can't fault the situation for its convenience.

If there are any Guardians here, you'd best make yourselves known now. So we can all yell and scream about what a horrible bad guy I am and all the trouble I'm going to cause. [ Twirls a hand. ] Get it out of the way.

And then, well, I guess I could introduce myself. My name is Pitch. Pitch Black. And, yes, before you ask. I am the Boogeyman. [ Wiggles his fingers at the camera, grinning. ]

Boo.

So, yeah, it's real cool to see so many lameoids wandering around. I haven't seen this many human people in a long, long time. I'm talking long. But more importantly, I've forgotten how kinda boring everything used to be. It's making me want to be back home, where at least I've got my bass and my stuff.

On the plus side, I think we can make this fun.

But first thing's first. I'm pretty hungry. Anyone know where a girl can get a bite to eat?

Well, well, isn't this quaint.

I'd go on about being upset about being told the whole "fictional" spheal, but let's be frank here: I've been told that for years. It hardly comes as a surprise, though the city is a new twist.

For now, I'll just consider this a holiday, a vacation of sorts from the hum drum predictability of my world. After all, there are plenty of interesting individuals to amuse me, and Daddy Oberon can't speak a single syllable to the contrary.

[There's a bit of a dark chuckle.]

Let's begin, shall we?