The Phantom of the Opera, now a dragon and the King of Fiction, awoke with a snort as his yellow dragon grandmother crashed through the ceiling of the Palais Garnier with a lampshade on her head.

"REEEEEEEEEBOOT!"

He blinked.

"What?"

"We're being rebooted!" she cheered, "You're getting a new story, old grandson of mine! Isn't it exciting?"

He rubbed his chin.

"Wait, are you talking about the Overworld, or is this something you're doing on your own?"

"On my own!" she cheered, "Once I found out that my long-lost brother was posing as Dan Harmon, I decided to go on a quest to find the rest of my missing family. Then I realized that they probably hate me, so I came here instead. There's also too many of them, and I'm very lazy, so that definitely contributed to my decision. Now, I'm writing us a new story. Hooray!"

"Aren't you overextended as it is?" he asked flatly.

"Fuck you. This is gonna be fun!" she insisted.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead with two claws.

"Alright. Fine. We'll do this stupid thing. Why did you bring a lampshade?"

She smiled and plucked it off her brow.

"To lampshade how forced this setup is."

She placed it on his head.

"Ta-dah!"

He stared at her neutrally for over thirty seconds.

"This is going to suck, isn't it?"

"Pretty much, yeah."