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A Fall From Grace


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A hush falls over the audience as the house lights dim and the curtain rises...

But — (oh!) — the piano dies on a sour note as they spy the Prima Ballerina, her tutu torn and soiled, on her knees with a drop oozing down her chin... while nearby lurks Raul the janitor who, with a smirk, zips up his fly.

The widows in the front row gasp and swoon!

"Disgraceful!" cries the Maestro as he angrily snaps his baton in two.

 
 
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