Cheap Gothic Soap Opera, Part 58

I ran into a doric column. "Nurse," I said to it, "Thank god you're here. There are potted plants in the stairwell!"
The pillar turned around slowly, revealing a face wizened with scars and agened with age. "I am not your nurse," it creaked, "I am your death nurse."
The logic made sense to me, so I extended my hand in gratitude, but, O, ungrateful treachery!, it whacked me over the head with its doric fist, knocking me out.

I awoke sometime later. I was in a room with plush seats and a giant movie screen. My hands and feet were bound to a chair. I tried to loosen the ropes with my as-of-yet-undeveloped mind powers, but I was unable to do so. There was some more powerful force counteracting my own. After five minutes of being bored, a hatch opened on one of the walls, and a man walked in. He stood in the shadows, so I couldn't see his face.
"I see you've met Mittens, then. He can be quite cranky sometimes," the man said mockingly.
"Who are you, you twisted pile of pencil earmarks?!"
The man stepped out of the shadows. "Rutherford Blainke," I gasped, "But I thought you had been eaten by that one-tentacled monstrosity."
"Ah. Ah ha. Ah Ha HA HA HA A AH !," he laughed maniacally, "Fool! That is what I wanted you to think. For you see, you see, I am not that pitiful Blainke character I made you believe I was. I AM PRODUCE-OR, producer of all things entertainment-related."
"Ba...guh..?"
"I guess I shall have to explain everything to you. Oh, we shall have fun, shan't we? I run the entire television business. Mr. V is my lowly accountant. He pretends to run my company so no one knows who I am, but I do think he is a bit wound up sometimes. Oh, and the one-tentacled monstrosity was merely a clever disguise for my getaway car. It was all part of my genius, the genius of PRODUCE-OR!"
"Well that's all good and fine, mister, but do you mind telling me why you kicked the can in regards to Ms. Stewart?"
"She was ruining my show! She and that stupid man who played Bob. They were terrible actors, always forgetting their lines and breaking the fourth wall. They had to go, for PRODUCE-OR decreed it."
"Don't you see," I said, standing up and speaking to a non-existent audience, "Cheap Gothic Soap Opera is not about good acting, or production, or special effects, or sound. It's about the feeling, the emotion that you put into it. Smile."
"How did you get out of your chair!?"
"I...don't...know..."

(OP: Nate, May 17 2007)