* plays a flourish on the organ that sounds like an intro for a tale of sorts. UD: They call him Judge Frollo, the knave. And this they will write on his grave... He's gnashing and glaring. And nobly not caring. Outrageous and rampant. And also repellent. No wonder folks don't bother to wave... He's Frollo, Judge Frollo, the knave. *Puts money from the ticket sales into the batty bank to be counted later. *Leaves to sell some creepcorn.