Yes, this is a parody of the theme song from POTO. Now wouldn't it be nice to sing along with a MIDI? Well, if you were to go to my website, you'd find one for this very purpose. Just look under the stories section! ;)
Chapter Three
Allison:
At work he gave to me
A burned CD
Nirvana, Sound Garden
Tool and Journey . . .
I'm in a state of bliss
As music moans . . .
Prasant of TJ Maxx is there-
In my headphones
Prasant:
Hear once again for me
These MP3's
I want to share with you
My expertise . . .
Don't worry you will hear
No Davy Jones . . .
Prasant of TJ Maxx is there-
In your headphones
Allison:
You say you're hideous
But that I doubt
I always think of you
Prasant:
Day in, day out . . .
Both:
Your/My CD's and my/your songs
Make lovely tones . . .
Prasant of TJ Maxx is there-
In your/my headphones
Voices:
He's there, Prasant of TJ Maxx
Beware, Prasant of TJ Maxx
Prasant:
In all your time spent here
You never guessed
That my heart longed for you
Allison:
I must confess . . .
Both:
And in this clothing store
'Mongst simple drones
Prasant of TJ Maxx is there-
In your/my headphones
Prasant:
Listen, My Angel of Dressing Rooms!
Allison:
He's there.
Prasant of TJ Maxx . . .
The consuming music pumped through the wires of the headphones and into Allison's ears as she was lead into the mysterious underbelly of TJ Maxx. She was only vaguely aware of the dank air that clung to her face, the cold, bony hand that held her own, and even the blackness that threatened to engulf her.
The cloaked figure that lead her held a flashlight whose illumination was hardly adequate for the seemingly impenetrable darkness. He moved quickly though the maze of storage rooms, down several flights of stairs and finally to an underground lake whose waters were still and black. He gently set his beloved charge into his boat; careful not to remove the headphones he had placed over her ears.
He rowed the boat swiftly across the lake towards the doorway on the opposite side. Allison began to stir as the boat made contact with a set of narrow, stone stairs which rose from the still, ebony depths.
The figure lifted Allison once again and carried her with little effort up the staircase. As she became more aware of the present situation, she began to struggle and cried aloud, but suddenly grew silent. He had set her down in the middle of a comfortable, pleasantly bright living room.
She looked bewilderingly about for a moment before settling her gaze on the man dressed all in black, save for a white mask, standing before her.
"Don't be afraid, Allison; you are in no danger."
Allison gasped; it was the voice, her tutor!
She ran towards him and tried to snatch away his mask, eager to learn the identity of her mysterious mentor.
"No!" He said firmly, but noticeably alarmed. "You must never touch my mask!"
He grasped her gently by the wrists, forcing her into a chair, and then knelt down before her. His humility renewed Allison's sense of courage, but she could not hold back tears of confusion, joy and anger.
Upon seeing them, the figure cried, "It is true, Allison! I am not an Angel, nor a ghost . . . I am Prasant!"
"The Prasant Ghost . . ." Allison muttered in disbelief. Could it be that her wondrous tutor and the strange phantom that plagued the store were one and the same?
"Yes, it is I. I have been the one to cause all the mysteries of TJ Maxx!"
"You were the one who caused the accident in the dressing room . . ."
"Yes, but it was for you! I had taught you everything about the fitting rooms, all you needed was an opportunity to present your new and glorious talent! And did you not receive praise? Were you not better then anyone could have anticipated?"
"Well, yes . . ."
"Then won't you forgive me Allison? I did it all out of love! Yes, love! Would you not do the same?" Prasant pleaded. "Every night I taught you, I watched you. How it pained me! I wanted nothing more then to be with you! I could not stand the pain another moment; I had to bring you here with me! Oh, Allison, forgive me! I would do anything for you! Just promise me you will never leave!"
"I could do no such thing!" Allison said, stunned by his outpour.
"But you must! I brought you here for love and here you must stay!" He began to cry out of desperation. "It is all out of the deepest and most tragic of love! The love I have for you!"
"I could only despise you if you imprisoned me against my will!" Allison said, standing.
Prasant was silent for a moment before he stood as well, reminding Allison that he was not an angel or a ghost, but her tutor which she had grown to love and trust.
"There is your liberty then, through that door. You see? I would do anything for you, Allison, even deny myself true happiness."
Allison turned and walked towards the exit, but just then, she heard the haunting voice of Tori Amos being played behind her. She stopped and turned back to Prasant.
"Come," Prasant beckoned her. "I have an entire compilation of new songs I know you'd love to hear."
Allison slowly walked over to Prasant and joined him by his stereo. He played for her numerous tracks from the CD's he had made with her in mind. As the night wore on, Allison was lulled to sleep by the soothing choruses of the music.
When she awoke, Allison found herself in a large, plush bed. She could hear various songs in fragmented pieces playing in the next room. Her curiosity aroused, she wandered into the room where Prasant sat at a computer, his back turned to her. He was so involved in the downloading of new songs for his next CD, that he did not notice her creep up behind him.
Allison listened to bits of the familiar songs as he masterfully arranged them on the play list. Her gaze moved slowly from the computer screen to his masked face. What was underneath? What could he be hiding? The urge to rip the mask from his face became almost unbearable. With a movement she was all but unable to control, her fingers swiftly snatched the mask away from his face.
Just then a superhuman cry of rage and grief emitted from the depths of his very being. She stumbled backwards, dropping the mask. She raised her hand to shield herself from what she was sure would be a horrible sight, but stopped when he whipped around to face her.
"How could you?" He roared. "You little fool! You want to see Prasant's face? Then look! Feast your eyes; glut your soul on my cursed ugliness!"
"But Prasant-"
"No! Say nothing, just look! Is this what you wanted? To see the horrid face of your tutor? You were not content to merely hear my voice, to listen to my music I shared with you?"
Allison shook her head, confused. "Prasant! There's nothing wrong with you! You're very normal, in fact, you're rather cute."
"Silence you inquisitive little thing! I won't stand for your taunting!" With that, Prasant dropped to his knees, shielding his face from Allison with his cape. He began to grope along the floor for his mask.
Allison watched him, perplexed. After a moment, she slid the mask to him with her foot. He snatched it up quickly and promptly replaced it on his face.
"Oh Allison, how you have hurt me! So long as you thought me handsome, you would have returned to me-"
"But Prasant, I do think you're-"
"No! Say no more, I cannot listen. Just know that my love for you can never be distracted!" He said, caressing the side of her face gently. "But alas! We must return - those two fools who run my clothing store will be missing you."
Chapter Four