“Poor babe. Don’t feel down.” A voice called from a nearby cell. “It’s not that bad here.” The voice sounds cheerful, but there was definitely something wrong with it. 
Inside a nearby cell at a skeleton. Sitting cross legged. His bony fingers fiddling a bit of straw that had he was tirelessly weaving into a make shift hat. A rat sat patiently in front of the skeleton. 
“We got a roof over our head. They even feed us once a month. Plus you can befriend or eat the rats.” The skeleton said loud enough for the others in cells to hear. “Could definitely be worse…” 
If the skeleton had a brow, it would furrow in frustration as his fingers struggled with looping a bit of straw back on itself, but it didn’t want to work. “Could be worse…” 
The skeleton placed the tiny makeshift straw hat on the rat’s head. Taking a moment to appreciate his handy work. The hat looked awful. Barely held together. 
About five seconds after being placed on the rat, a bit of straw snapped and the whole hat fell apart. Leaving the rat standing in a small pile of straw. It squeaked and scampered away. 
“Well, I got a few jokes if anyone wants to hear them.” The skeleton rose to its feet and began pacing the cell. “Jokes will lighten the mood.” The skeleton said more to itself than the others. 
“What’s a skeleton’s favourite instrument?” The skeleton asked.