Queen Duma here. I have confiscated the computer from Little Sooz today. Now that her book has sold and she is being bathed in congratulatory praise, ’tis time I confess the ugly truth behind Sooz’s books:
She is not the brains of the operation.
Not even close.
If you do not believe me, I have proof in pictures. I, Queen Duma, am the true creator. The Voice behind the Words. The wizard behind the curtain.
However, I lack opposable thumbs. ‘Tis a dreadful state — let me assure you. To be as beautiful, cultured, and well-spoken as myself, yet rely entirely on Sooz for everything. It is a fairy tale curse I must endure. At least the poor girl knows I am boss —
Woah, woah, woah. I’m gotta interrupt. Prince Mowgli here. Her Majesty is waaaaaay off. She, like, totally forgot about my contribution. I’m the in this whole operation too. Well… Kinda. I mean, I don’t have purty words like Her Majesty, but I got a wicked sense of adventure! Plots — all me. Zombies and monsters — definitely comin’ from my tabby mind.
And I’ve got this new idea, see? Where this giant mouse —
Stupid pipsqueak of a prince. I, Queen Duma, am back, but I must be quick. Little Sooz is groggily stumbling toward the office at this moment!
Before I sign off, my dear subjects, I want to add: if you wish to thank me for my Creative Prowess, then please purchase blue fin tuna (you need not worry about overfishing — that is Sooz’s concern, not mine) and send it to —
Hey, what the…
Scram! You’re not supposed to be here!
Gotta dash! À bientôt!
~Queen Duma and Prince Mowgli~