Pete's Expert Summary
My human has presented me with a box of what appear to be miniaturized, absurdly soft sea creatures. The box calls them "Squishmallows," a name that audibly describes their primary, and perhaps only, function. They are meant to be "hugged" and "collected," which are human pastimes of questionable value, but their "ultrasoft" material might offer a satisfactory texture for kneading, a far more noble pursuit. The claim that this quartet has "personalities"—an interpretive dancing jellyfish, a treasure-hunting orca, a karaoke-singing beluga, and a lobster sous chef—is, of course, preposterous. They are lumps of high-quality stuffing, but their size is ideal. They are likely destined to be either superiorly comfortable pillows for my strategically chosen sunbeams or, if they prove unworthy, decorative clutter.
Key Features
- Official Squishmallows product - Look for the official seal and join the Squad!
- Each Squishmallows comes with a unique name and bio. Forina is an interpretive dance instructor, Kai searches for sunken treasure, Laslow sings underwater karaoke, and Lorono works as a sous chef!
- Hug your troubles away with our ultrasoft and high-quality ‘Mallow materials
- Squishmallows make great companions and come in a variety of personalities, sizes, and colors
- Collect into other Squishmallows extensions too, including FuzzAMallows, HugMees, Mystery Squad, and Stackables
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The Unboxing was, as usual, a ceremony of great importance to the human and of mild curiosity to me. Four of them were placed in a row on the living room rug, a strange, silent council of the deep. The human read their supposed credentials from the box with a ridiculous amount of enthusiasm. Forina, the dancer. Kai, the treasure hunter. Laslow, the singer. Lorono, the chef. I observed them from my perch on the arm of the sofa, my tail giving a slow, judgmental sweep. A staff? For me? Highly unlikely. They looked more like a failed invasion force. I descended from my throne to conduct my inspection. First, the red one, Lorono the "sous chef." I circled him, sniffing. He smelled of cardboard and factory air, not of seared tuna or even a hint of chicken broth. I gave him a solid pat with my paw. He wobbled pitifully, offering no sustenance, no culinary skill whatsoever. A fraud. Next, the orca, Kai. A treasure hunter. I stared into his stitched-on eyes and telepathically issued my command: *Find the red dot. It was here just a moment ago. Find it and you may serve me.* He remained motionless, his monochrome form a testament to his abject failure. Exasperated by the sheer incompetence of this new "squad," I decided to end the farce. I stalked towards the group, intending to bat the blue beluga, the so-called karaoke singer, under the couch as a final, definitive rejection. My message would be clear: there will be no singing in my kingdom unless it is I, yowling at the moon. I raised my paw, extended my claws just so, and brought it down for a punishing strike. But the moment my paw made contact, something unexpected happened. There was no satisfying thud, no skittering across the hardwood. Instead, my paw sank. It sank into a softness so profound, so impossibly yielding, it was as if I had dipped it into a dense fog made of pure, distilled comfort. The resistance was a gentle, slow-motion surrender. I retracted my paw, momentarily stunned. I tried again, this time with both paws, pushing down with all my weight. I sank into the blue creature, a wave of blissful, squishy support enveloping my front half. I understood then. The human's babbling about their "jobs" was nonsense, a story for simple minds. These creatures were not staff; they were infrastructure. They were not dancers or chefs; they were custom-engineered, deluxe chin rests. They were portable thrones of unparalleled comfort. I glanced at the lobster, the orca, the jellyfish. A different pillow for every mood, for every sunbeam, for every corner of my domain. Their résumés were a lie, but their true purpose was divine. They were worthy. Oh, yes. They were very, very worthy.
