Dear Claire,

I am so sorry that I gave the Cinderella you asked me to draw for you a set of wheels. May I concede that it was very, nay; wholly inappropriate of me to do such a thing, and may
I beg you accept such an apology. There is a time and a place for unbridled creative liscence, and I'm sorry that I took such brazen liberties with your commission. Never did I intend the
wheels to have such negative reception.

May I also speak, however, of the inherent positive qualities that a Cinderella with wheels would have! I tried to explain these to you earlier, but you seemed reluctant to pay me much mind. Perhaps
in this epistolary format you will think more highly of my intentions.

Legs aren't necessarily that fast, y'see. Donovan Bailey can't even outrun a Mazda, and that's a Mazda i'm talking about, not a rocket luge. At least as far as I know right now, I don't think
Donovan Bailey is that fast. If someone looks into this and proves me wrong, that's cool and all.

But that's not my point! This isn't my point! My point is that Cinderella, who works all the freaking time for her dreadful stepfamily needs all the help she can get,
and such help is definately available in an endeavor like ..acquiring..wheels for legs. While she may lose some facility in her abilities to shove dustpans and cookies between her toes or whatever, she can go really fast now, and that's cool!

Secondly, Claire, never does Cinderella's story explicitly say that she doesn't have wheels, aside from the glass slipper thing, and even that isn't necessarily counter my arguement here, because face it girl--nobody else can wear the slipper, right? It might as well be a glass tire tread thingy.

And Claire, face it, they look so cool! Or they did until you colored them in and made them part of Cinderella's friend's grotesquely freaky large hair. Not that I'm questioning your ability to draw hair or anything. But wheels, Claire. You took away the wheels. Don't live with regrets, but....

For a long time, the fate of the noble sea otter (referred to in the scientific community
as Enhydra lutris all the goddamn time) rested solely in the arms of humanity's arbitrary concern for its cuteness;
a concern that was constantly weighed against other properties of this magnificent animal.

For eons, men across the world asked themselves, "Sure, they look so cute, but aren't they filled with
diamonds? They may seem like an integral part of our ecosystem, but what about our diamonds?"

And thus, sea otters were killed for their many diamonds.

It saddened many people to know that there are relatively few diamonds in an otter. "If only we knew that there are probably
no diamonds in otters! If only we had truly honed our scientific method, our brash desire for diamonds would never have surpassed our
reverence for the otter!"

"Damn, let's get our act together!" said humanity. And after years of constant thought and deliberation, humanity then proceeded to give the remaining otters magnetic Papa Murphy's coupons, which the otter commmunity met with
both unavowed contempt and reluctant diplomatic appreciation.

"Oh, ...thanks." Said the otters. Only two of them put the magnetic coupons on the fridge.

Not that humanity was trying to be so sucky about compensation, here! Nonononono, not at all! They went into this thing with the best intentions; they simply wanted to put the otters at ease with the brutal murder of their family and friends for vast amounts of diamonds.

"Those magnets are kinda convenient because when the coupon part expires, there's still the phone number," said humanity.

Wow! Did you know that otters can close their ears and nostrils underwater, making for a more comfortable swimming experience? Otters are amazing!

"Well," said one otter, "If we really wanted to, we could just look up the number if we wanted a pizza."

"But this way, you don't even have to do that," replied humanity.

"I realize that. Please, don't think that I don't realize that, because I certainly do. But you don't think that this whole thing is trivial? You guys thought that we were made of diamonds and killed us. Not that I blame you for that. I swear, good God, if I was in your shoes,
I would've done the same thing, probably. But you have to try to empathize with us, here; try to get perspective. You're giving us pizza coupons. Pizza coupons."

After a short pause, humanity looked at its collective watch and said, "Bobobobob."

The otters then left, slightly dissapointed but not particularily surprised.

The volitile state of anthrootterial relations remains stagnant to this day. Cohabitation is currently a viable means of existance for both otters and humans. Never again do we
intrude upon anything on the other's side, unless we want to burn each other's CDs or whatever.