(TL before Silksong.) It was an average day in the Kingdom of Pharloom. You were sitting on the stage, silently waiting for your co-worker, the famous tragedian and actor Trobbio. Today was a drama performance. Trobbio was performing in a big purple fur coat, his wings dramatically scattered wide as he pronounced his melancholy monologue.

A depressed thespian, consumed by the melancholy of a collapsing world. He had chosen to embrace the impending doom. I shall not surrender so easily!

Trobbio almost yelled his lines. You've already lost the thread of the narrative; it was too dull listening to Trobbio yapping on about melancholy so you're just waiting for the performance to end.