The mysterious theater had been run down yesterday, or maybe it hadn't been there at all, not that anyone actually noticed. None really questioned they got free tickets, or were offered insanely overpriced tickets (meaning of course they show had to be good and they had to go see it) for the show 'Return of REAL Monsters'. A musical about the tragic loss of monsters' monstrous over the years, to where humans feared themselves more than they feared what went bump in the night. Vampires were no longer the elite who feed on the working class, they were the lonely sparkly teenager. Werewolves were no longer the savage that hid behind even the most civilized face, they were a another poor misunderstood minority for scared and stupid humans to point guns at. Dragons were no longer engines of destruction fueled by materialism, they were majestic things of beauty who had to protected from greedy HUMANS! Zombies were no longer the fear of slaves where even death would not release them, they were natural disasters where the most danger scared from OTHER scared humans with guns. The list went on.
Naturally, none of the audience as they filled the seats in the theater knew that by the time the musical was over, they themselves would become classic monsters, through and through, no 'poor misunderstood' creatures here, tried and true and whole objects of FEAR. These would be changes: mind, body, and soul!
Except... in the dressing room (the one without a mirror), Dracula was drinking blood mixed with wine...
The Mummy was already on set, along with Frakenstein's Monster, and The Cursed Doll. Dragon was still getting his claws polished at the last minute.
The Wolf Man knocked on Dracula's door, and got no answer, and carefully opened it.
"Uh, Count... we're almost on..."
Dracula moaned. "What's the point? Two seconds after we get started, a super elite squad of monster hunters will smash the doors in. Or some unexceptional slightly gruffy man who was in the theater all along who is automatically immune, who happens to be nearly all powerful, and spends more time brow beating us before effortlessly destroying us with a wiggle of his fingers, or the army drops an atomic bomb on us, or Zeus rips open the ceiling out of nowhere and annihilates us. Right after reverting everyone who changed of course back into boring humans, with the only end result being us all dead, dead-dead, obliterated, or the like..."
Wolf-Man said hopefully, "Maybe they'll all show up at the same time, and since they all think they have the jurisdiction to kill us, they end up fighting each other, giving us and the new recruits to slip away?"
"Never happens. These all powerful types never accidentally step on each other's toes. It doesn't matter how much effort we put into things, it doesn't matter how carefully we plan things out, it doesn't matter how much we cover our bases... we're going to be effortlessly crushed and left to rot."