[Deep movie-narrator voice]
IN A WORLD THAT HAS FRACTURED TO ITS CORE, A WORLD WHERE UP IS DOWN AND NOTHING SEEMS RIGHT, ONLY ONE CREATURE CAN SAVE ALL OF HUMANITY. I GIVE YOU ... [music swells] A SALAD-EATING OTTER.
you didn't need a video of an otter eating lettuce, but here you go pic.twitter.com/8WAqR6dbQ9— Cutest Animals Ever (@CUTEST_ANlMALS) February 24, 2017
I’m not sure why this video made my day yesterday, but it did. Maybe it’s the impending sense of doom and angst that has been swirling throughout our national discourse? Maybe I just needed a tiny buddy to help me out? Either way, this otter made me laugh, chuckle, and pump my fist in the air in celebration.
I immediately fired off a joke from the @unstoppablebaby twitter account.
Just imagining Jim Harbaugh on his knees screaming at this otter, "ATTACK EACH DAY WITH AN ENTHUSIASM UNKNOWN TO MANKIND!!" https://t.co/1fCjdsGr4V— Golden State of Mind (@unstoppablebaby) February 25, 2017
Which, if we are being honest about the quality of the content ... FIVE RETWEETS AND ONLY 20 LIKES, YOU PEOPLE ARE ANIMALS! THAT WAS A QUALITY JOKE!
I’m not gonna lie. I spent a good portion of the day wondering why people didn’t like my Jim-Harbaugh-screaming-at-a-cute-otter joke more, which inevitably (of course, because I’m dumb) led me to envision other otter scenarios.
Like, what other scenarios would make sense for this four legged hero? The hero we all need?
Quick aside: Here’s a screenshot from google image searching “superhero otter.”
I’m impressed. (My only question: What makes that almost naked lady a superhero otter? To my credit, I did not investigate, but instead, pressed on with the ever-important business at hand of making up fake situations for my new best friend, the salad-eating otter. Also, “Harry Otter?” That is pure gold.)
OtterMan (I don’t know if this otter is a man otter or a lady otter, but OtterMan has kind of a nice ring to it, so we are running with it) comes upon the scene of a robbery. An old woman’s purse has been taken, and the bandit is running, zagging, and stumbling through a crowded street. OtterMan starts to run after the bandit, but then remembers the only way to fight crime is through goodness. So, he whips out a head of lettuce, and starts munching away! The bandit, distracted from his escape by the adorable sound of munching, turns around. He sees the otter on the sidewalk. He is curious. He slowly walks back, drawn towards the cuteness. As he passes the old woman, he absentmindedly gives her back her purse. She doesn’t press charges. Instead, they stand together, shoulder to shoulder, watching OtterMan.
It is late in Game 7 of the 2016 NBA Finals. Andre Iguodala gets the ball on a fast break. Little does he know, but LeBron James is chasing him down, preparing to time his jump and deliver the defining highlight from a potentially historic collapse. Iguodala runs, prepares to jump towards the hoop with a chance to seal the game. LeBron comes charging from behind. His eyes are full of fire and passion. He will block this shot. He will bring a championship to CLEEEEEEVEL—but then, mid stride, he hears the adorable sound of crunching. He pauses, swivels his head. Sitting court-side right next to Joe Lacob is the most adorable otter he’s ever seen. He slows, comes to a halt. “Hey little buddy,” he says, smiling as the game passes him by, “where’d you get that lettuce?” The otter only responds, “chomp chomp chomp.” Iguodala lays in the ball. The Warriors win the Finals. LeBron doesn’t care, because he’s made a new friend.
It is 1995. Warriors GM Dave Twardzik is about to make the call in the NBA Draft. The Warriors are choosing between Jerry Stackhouse and Joe Smith, but are heavily leaning towards Smith, the 6’10” power forward out of Maryland who had just won the Naismith award in his sophomore year. Twardzik picks up the phone. He’s going to call it in. Smith is the choice, the front office is all in agreement. Suddenly, he hears the strangest sound. It’s as if something (a small creature, perhaps?) is munching in that far corner. Could it be? Yes, it is! It’s a tiny otter! And is it ... it’s ... is it eating lettuce? “Oh my! What an adorable little creature you are!” exclaims Twardzik. The phone call to the NBA office has gone through. A small, tinny voice keeps asking, “Hello? Heeeelloooo?” Twardzik pays no mind. “And what is that, lettuce?” The otter keeps munching. “Hello?!” says the phone. “I wonder,” muses Twardzik, almost to himself. “Is lettuce a type of garnish?” The small voice on the phone, exasperated, says, “Garnett? Did you say Kevin Garnett? With the first overall pick you take Garnett?!” “Mmmm, garnish,” says Twardzik. “Okay, it’s confirmed!” says the small voice. “With the first overall pick in the 1995 draft, the Golden State Warriors take Kevin Garnett!”
Vivek Ranadive stares out the window at the endless expanse of the Pacific Ocean. He is alone, in an overly-large house on the side of a large hill in the Pacific Northwest. He comes here sometimes to just get away from it all. Recently, he doesn’t feel quite as at home in Sacramento. The water tastes funny. The smiles from his employees seem forced. It is only a few days until the 2017 NBA trade deadline. He needs, needs to get DeMarcus Cousins out of town. Ranadive feels his power slipping. Feels the tethers coming undone, the cord unraveling. All he can think about is Buddy. Buddy Hield, the one that got away. “We’re still gonna get you,” he’d whispered lovingly, longingly into the rookie’s ear the last time New Orleans played in his shiny, new arena in Sacramento. “We’re still gonna get you.” He moves to pick up the phone. The time has come. He will get Buddy, no matter the cost. Suddenly, a noise. “What was that?” he wonders aloud. “Chomp chomp chomp,” says the noise. He swivels in his chair, away from the window overlooking the ocean. A very small, very happy otter is sitting on the floor before him, eating lettuce. He feels an intense moment of clarity — a feeling of relief the likes of which he has never felt before. All of the pain, anger, and uncertainty washes from his soul. “I’ll change,” he says aloud. “I’ll sit this one out.” The otter continues munching. “Buddy, I’m sorry.” He closes his eyes, feeling resolute and powerful. “But I just can’t do it. Not this time. This time, I’ll make the prudent decision.” The otter smiles and keeps eating.
The American people are heading to the polls. They’ve been duped, but they don’t know it yet. A Russian operative has infiltrated the highest ranks of government by insulting minorities, pledging drastic, violent measures, and basically gaslighting the entire population. It is November 8th, 2016. A small otter crawls out of his otter home. He has a mission, and he must not fail. He knows what he must do. He pulls the lettuce from his back pocket, and —
“Ahh, stick to otters, not politics!!” someone yells. “This is an otters-only-blog, not a political echo chamber!”
The otter shakes his head, returns to his otter home. Some things just can’t be fixed, no matter how much lettuce you eat.