Little Miss Pity.

There once was a girl, this girl's name was Miss Pity.

As you could imagine, this girl had lots of issues. First of all, what sort of a name is Pity? She would often introduce herself, saying, "Hi, I'm Pity". The stranger would quite innocently reply, saying "Pretty, did you say?" And Miss Pity would have to shake her head, and say, "No, Pity." Yes, pity... in more ways than one.

That's just the name though. Miss Pity had plenty other things to worry about. You see, she was an actress - this was her job. And how she was good at her job. Most people in her local town had seen at least one of her plays, and news had spread even to nearby towns that there was a rising star nearby. Yes, people were starting to come and see her from afar.

The interesting thing is, though, although Miss Pity was a brilliant actress, people generally liked to see her in a very narrow range of styles. In particular, they liked it when she played humorous roles, such as a crazy clown, a talking chair, a dancing leopard...

Miss Pity by nature did not understand humour. It was not something she had much exposure to at all. But, for the sake of having bread on her table, she learnt it. When performance time came, she put a big smile on her face she juggled, she danced, she made jokes. Yes, Miss Pity knew what she had to do.

But as soon as the applause ended, as soon as the curtain drew, Miss Pity's smile would fade. She would strip off her costume, crying in pain. She would then run, naked, down the dark and narrow alleys, all the way home.

The thing is, Miss Pity didn't know humour. Miss Pity didn't know fun. She could pretend and laugh and clap and scream, but that's all it was - pretending.

Miss Pity gets home, lies under her blanket, and cries herself to sleep.

Meanwhile, the crowd at the theatre slowly makes it's way out, praising Miss Pity for, once again, another brilliant performance.