It bothers me that I don’t know what this is. It LOOKS innocent, the butterflies help a bit with that, but it clearly has a handle for easy removal, and that’s going to cost it the benefit of the doubt. Soulful green eyes notwithstanding.
At least it seems to be dressed. Thank god for small blessings, its maker saw fit to wrap in in a skin-tight thing-thong. Or maybe when it turns blue, you know it’s time to find out what that guy’s name was.
Perhaps it’s some exotic, semi-aware flower? The butterflies prepare to crawl into its mouth to pollinate it. Or is that bees? Bees seem like they’d be too smart to play this thing’s mind game. They’d see the green safety handle and say “Nope, we don’t know where it’s been. Plus, it’s clearly waiting to eat us.” Butterflies have MUCH smaller brains (scientific fact). Or perhaps it creates them, vomits them forth like Randy Newman coughs up banal little ditties which flutter around him and adhere to his hideous skin-tight sky-blue thong, daring to sneak back into his lascivious mouth, leaving delicate tracks of pollen across his plump, full lips like a passionate verse of the Song of Songs in intimate braille.
Actually, we do have a small clue as to its origins, its intent, perhaps its ultimate destination. An online review of the “product” says thusly:
Collect “em! Trade “em! Six styles. Fun Fuzzy hair Hook you Favorite Kookys Pens!
None of which actually helps me understand its intent, or relieves my lingering fear that it might sneak out of its box at night and do me some sort of comedically painful harm. Ah whimsy, ah veiled threat, thy name is Preshüs.
Assistance League of Austin Thrift Store