As early morning settles on Paris, we bring you now to the janitor who perched high on the outer railings of the Eiffel Tower with his mop looks very much like someone who's made up his mind.

Made up my mind more than you'll ever know.

I'm not going to try to go on the show anymore.

What?

I'm speechless?

Well, come on, let's be honest, every bad thing that's happened because I wanted to be on the stage or because I wanted to be in front of the lights around the microphone.

Of course, all your life you've dreamed of having an audience.

Yeah, but it's not real. It's okay, millions of people don't.

And I'm not pretending I have an audience anymore either.

Brave words, considering especially he spent last night singing to that very imaginary audience to comfort himself.

Oh, yeah, you are.

It's a melody that came to him one day that he often hums to himself.

And in his fantasy he sang with confidence and authority and his song made his audience happy

Which in turn made him happy. And this power.

And this power to

close your eyes.

And this power to make happiness intoxicated him, until he fell into the deepest and sweetest of sleep.

So what happened to inspire such strange new resolutions?

We take you now to the apartment of Chief Stagehand Letitia Saltier as she recounts the events following our recent hypnosis debacle to her downstairs neighbor.

If you are picturing a bad thing just like make it a hundred time worse

they'd go the fire brigade to spray people to wake them up you know because what

brings somebody out of an hypnotic state it is water you know there's like a

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