Often, when I am wandering lonely along the shore, mist brushing my nose and wind whipping my hair, I grow melancholy thinking about the time I tricked a baby deer into falling down a well. I stop and sigh and let the tears roll down my cheeks. Why do these thoughts make me so sad? After all, it wasn’t really a baby deer, it was just my friend Schaffer dressed in a puffy hamburger costume. I guess the sadness comes when I think of how cute baby deer are, and how Schaffer lost all those Big Mac coupons while he was thrashing around down there. One could argue that the puffy hamburger costume saved his life, but that’s hardly an excuse for tears. No, no, no – surely this pathos lies with the baby deer. Hmm.