Sky-High
Renowned curator Jacques Sauniere staggered through the vaulted archway of the museum's Grand Gallery.
He pitched forward as his vision blurred temporarily. Twenty-seven hours without sleep. He was fading fast.
But Jacques had things he needed to do.
"Sir, who are you?" the night guard demanded.
"Jacques Sauniere," he slurred. Sleep...he just wanted sleep...
The guard laughed. "That's rich; he's a fictional character from a movie, but he's not real. You don't look anything like the actor, either."
Sleep...a nice long sleep, in clean sheets with soft, feather pillows...He let his mind wander as the guard continued laughing.
"Sir, I must ask you to leave the building. Museum hours are over," the guard barked a little angry. This man appeared drunk and haggard.
"I can't, sir," Jacques responded. He drew himself up taller. "I've gone without sleep for twenty-six hours, and I can assure you that I am quite real. And if you don't listen to what I say...this entire place is going to sky-high."
"How do you know?" the guard snapped, irritated still further by this...this lunatic.
"You can read it for yourself, sir," Jacques responded.
"Where?" the guard demanded, lip curling up in a jeer.
"Mona Lisa's eyes," he slurred, before going unconscious.