The Bold Improviser
You stride onstage like you own the moon itself. "Hark! Forsooth, the yonder cheese doth weepeth!" you bellow, flinging your cape dramatically. The audience blinks. Then someone giggles. Then someone cheers.
Emboldened, you spin and declare, "My noble steed hath eaten my homework, varlets!" The crowd is roaring now. Backstage, the director's eye is twitching.