He took a deep, frustrated breath, and adjusted his mask.

"The only verdict is vengeance, a vendetta held as a votive, not in vain for the veracity and value- value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. The only verdict is vengeance, a vendetta held as a virtue- Damn it." He looked into the mirror before him and straightened up.

"V, you have to memorize this. Someday, you're going to need it. Now quit fooling about." He inhaled deeply.

"But on this most auspicious of nights permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace soubriquet, to suggest the character of this dramatis persona. Voila! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both villain and victim- Oh, I give up." He stood up angrily, straightened his floral apron, and strode off towards the kitchen, where he could smell the toast in the oven beginning to burn.