I thought: opera how hard can it be? Songs. Pretty girls dancing. Nice scenery. Lots of people handing over cash. Got to be better than the cut-throat world of yoghurt I thought. Now everwhere I go there's...' Death to be precise. & plenty of it. In unpleasant variations. This isn't real life. This isn't even cheesemongering. It's opera. Where the music matters & where an opera house is being terrorised by a man in evening dress with a white mask lurking in the shadows occasionally killing people & most worryingly sending little notes writing maniacal laughter with five exclamation marks. Opera can do that to a man. In such circumstances life has obviously reached that desperate point where the wrong thing to do has to be the right thing to do...