Pete's Expert Summary
The human has presented me with what appears to be a rotund, yellow lump. I am told it's a "Winnie The Pooh," some sort of folk hero from their stories who obsesses over honey, a sticky substance I have no time for. This "Squishmallow" thing boasts of being "ultrasoft" and is part of a "squad," which sounds suspiciously like a cult of inanimate objects. Its primary feature seems to be its perpetually outstretched arms, an invitation for a "hug," which I, in my vast wisdom, interpret as an invitation to a wrestling match. While its lack of movement or intriguing sounds is a mark against it, the promise of a superiorly soft surface for a nap or a vigorous, one-sided skirmish is just barely enough to pique my curiosity. It's likely a glorified pillow, but one must investigate all potential napping surfaces.
Key Features
- SQUAD UP Grow your Squishmallows Squad with the super-soft, medium-sized Stitch HugMees plush
- MUST-HAVE Bring the magic of Disney home with this Squishmallows HugMees, made with ultrasoft, high-quality materials
- HUGMEES Squishmallows HugMees have extended arms and are always ready for a hug
- COLLECTIBLE Look for other Squishmallows extensions, including FlipAMallows, FuzzAMallows, Mystery Squad, and Stackables only by Original Squishmallows
- OFFICIALLY LICENSED PRODUCT This 10-inch plush is officially licensed by Disney
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The new arrival was placed unceremoniously on the sunbeam that I, through years of careful observation and territorial marking, had claimed as my own. It was a jaundiced ovoid with a vacant, stitched-on smile and a tiny red shirt that barely contained its plush midsection. It sat there, an affront to my gray and white elegance, with its arms held wide in a posture of what the human called a "hug." I saw it for what it truly was: a declaration of war. A silent, doughy challenger daring to occupy my space. I began my reconnaissance, circling the yellow interloper at a safe distance. My tail, a perfect barometer of my disdain, twitched with surgical precision. The creature did not react. It was either supremely confident or utterly brainless. I crept closer, extending a single, needle-sharp claw from my tuxedoed paw. I performed the poke test, a maneuver I typically reserve for sleeping humans or suspicious-looking floor crumbs. The surface yielded with a slow, sighing compression that was disturbingly pleasant. This was no common stuffed beast; its hide was of a quality I had not previously encountered. This changed my calculus entirely. This was not an enemy to be dispatched, but a tool to be mastered. With a guttural growl I keep in reserve for true emergencies, I launched myself. My front paws clamped onto its shoulders, those absurdly welcoming arms now serving as perfect grapple points. I latched on, flipped onto my side, and unleashed the full fury of my back legs—the Disemboweling Bunny-Kick, a technique passed down through generations. I kicked and kicked, a whirlwind of gray fur and righteous indignation. The yellow thing absorbed every blow, its pillowy form offering the perfect resistance without any of the unpleasant squeaking or flailing of lesser toys. Exhausted but victorious, I ceased my assault. The challenger lay toppled on its side, its stitched smile now looking more like a grimace of defeat. My victory was total. The yellow thing was now my vassal, its primary purpose redefined. I laid my head upon its soft, vanquished form, the material conforming perfectly to my noble profile. Its softness, I conceded as I drifted off to sleep in my conquered sunbeam, was exceptional. An excellent training dummy, and an even better pillow. It could stay.
