I really don’t understand orthotics, on account of me being a spooky skeleton. I understand that feet are very important, but I simply can’t remember if I took any care of mine while I was alive, and it’s far too late now. I don’t think they make orthotics in my size, and it’s totally moot because I don’t actually wear shoes, except when I dress up in whimsical costumes in order to scare and spook people in a more whimsical fashion.
I suppose, given that my feet are smaller than average due to just being rattling bones, I could get fitted for children’s orthotics. Cheltenham is where I’ve been haunting recently, and I guess they must have podiatrists in Cheltenham because all the people here have feet. Or…most of them. I know, because I’ve started doing this hilarious thing where I hide in a tree, wrap a rope around my neck and flop down in front of people, going “BLAAAARGH!” It is amazingly funny, and they always run away screaming, probably to only later realise the genius of the joke. Tee-hee!
I suppose I’ve noticed that a lot of folks in town have a long, athletic stride that they use to run away when spooked by me, a spooky skeleton. I suppose they’ve all visited the podiatrist and gotten custom orthotics, or whatever else needs to be done to make the human foot efficient for running and leaping and screaming.
Oh, and now my latest assignment is to use my human guise to get orthotics fitted…or at least get my feet checked out by a professional. I wonder what will happen if they see through my magical glamour and know that it’s all just bone? I think they’ll at least know for sure that I don’t have any common foot conditions. Cheltenham feet are healthy, can confirm. Most covered in skin and tendons and all sorts, though.