Marge stood before the bathroom mirror. She held a tiny microphone. She told a joke about a chicken crossing the road.
The chicken in the picture laughed at her. Marge's ears drooped. But she sniffed and practiced the punchline again.
She invited her little fox to sit on the bed for a private rehearsal. She told the same chicken joke.
Her little fox giggled, covering their mouth with both hands. Marge's tail gave one hopeful wag.
At the community center talent show, Marge stepped onto the stage. She grabbed the microphone — and it let out a loud, high-pitched squeal.
The sound vibrated in her teeth and she froze. Her paws tightened around the plastic microphone. She swallowed hard and began her joke anyway.
Marge told the chicken joke, but nobody laughed. One person checked their watch. Her smile faded and her tail curled tightly around her legs.
She mumbled a quick thank you and ran off the stage. Her big white fluffy tail trembled as she hid under the kitchen table.
Her little fox found her and sat down beside her. They pressed a smooth, waxy crayon into her paw.
Marge's tail gave one slow, steady wag. She began to draw.