NARRATOR: Rags to riches, told by folklore. The story you know will be no more. They told you of mistreatment, endless chores, unsavory stepfamily and all. So, we'll skip to the part where they're all at the Ball. "Hey boss, you having a good time?" Donnie shouted over the live bands' music. I shook my head, staring right at him as he said it to someone else's face. It was a masquerade party, all the guests wearing colorful Venetian masks made it hard to distinguish who was who in the dim lighting. Still, I'd told him at least a dozen times that I'd be in a green mask. The man he spoke to wore one in Gold. "I'm over here you fat-head," I lifted my mask showing my face. He marched over to me happily, "Hey boss, you having a-" "No, Donnie, and neither should you, you're supposed to be watching the door." "Yeah boss I was, but I had to hit the john, then figured I might as well grab some punch...