Sloths are in for it this time, and by it I mean trouble. By next year they will be subjugated and bathed for the amusement of the masses, their cuteness extracted like visual Prozac.
You shouldn't have been so darn adorable, little sloths, your relentless need to be cute has brought you under the radar of those who feed on cuteness like vampires.
If you want to survive you'd better get a pair of Groucho glasses and a baseball cap on right away. Better yet, hang on the back of a stinky critter, like a warthog, or a big brute that can offer you protection, like a hippo, and you might be okay.
Don't say I didn't warn you, I can sense marketable cuteness a mile away and you guys have that "it" factor. Better watch your backs, little guys, because the bathers are coming.