I woke up this morning to find the man who plays Oliver Twist licking moss off the walls. I see, so it was going to be one of those days, was it? I pulled on my socks and shoes, in that order, and got to my feet, and found that all the other urchins were also sampling the walls. This, apparently, was how they had survived down here all this time. I was appalled. "Surely you can't live on mossy walls all the time?" I said. "Even if moss can technically be considered one of your five a day." They said that of course they didn't and that I was being silly - for lunch they licked the floor, and they were looking forward to cobweb risotto for dinner.
I shook my head sorrowfully, but not too hard, in case in came off. My head never has come off, of course, but I put this down to being extremely cautious with regard to the vigour with which I shake it. Anyway, when I observed that this was a terrible way for a person to live, even if they were an actor, they just looked at me pitifully and asked how else were they to survive, locked away in this here basement.
Now, in retrospect, I might have broken the news a little more cautiously. After all, it must come as something of a blow to realise that, after being 'trapped' in a basement for years and years and years and years, the door was not actually locked. But they had seen me walk through it casually enough, and I would have expected that in all that time one of them would have at least tried the handle.
But no, this was a terrible shock and there was much wailing and sobbing and gnashing of teeth and all the rest of it. It was really over the top, but then - actors.