Squishmallows are cute, egg-shaped stuffed animals produced by Kelly Toys Holding designed for children (and some adults). As a Squishmallow connoisseur, I am here to give my unbiased personal power rankings in no particular order of the popular Squishmallows, so that you can waste your money in the best way possible. Due to a limited budget, I am only allowed two images, so look them up when needed.
Karina the Cat
Karina is your classic Squishmallow. She has whiskers, cat ears and crescent-shaped eyes that all emphasize her cuteness. As an intro Squishmallow, I highly recommend Karina—she delivers exactly what you want from a Squishmallow, providing ultimate cuteness and snuggability. Did you know Squishmallows have lore? According to Karina’s bio, she “is a numbers girl. Her favorite subjects have always been maths and science. She plans on using her data expertise as a future computer scientist!” Perhaps you can even ask her for MATLAB help.
Leonard the Lion
This lion is a majestic little fellow. Cute smile, majestic rainbow mane and large eyes, Leon has it all. His mane is quite soft and adds a nice sensation when you cuddle with him. He’s so cute that you can’t resist punching his face. People may say size doesn’t matter, but as a 24-inch Leonard the Lion owner, I believe everyone should have a 24-inch Leonard the Lion on their bed. His large size means that you can use him as a pillow, but also as a couch, a table stand, a footrest, a punching bag and so much more (see Fig. 1). Truly, he can do it all.
Fig. 1: My brother using Leonard the Lion as a footrest.
Bruce the Walrus
Do you ever wonder what it’s like to get gored by a walrus? This walrus is so cute that I only briefly entertained the thought. But don’t worry, Bruce the Walrus “is your guy!” According to his bio, he will even lead you on a tour through Alaska—better than the Norwegian cruise line I rode on when I was five. Aside from his educational qualities, Bruce the Walrus is also a dapper little fellow—his crescent-shaped eyes along with his cute little tusks convey his infinite elation to see you. Even better, he has tiny flippers on his sides, so you can better hold on to him as you snuggle him. He’s so cute that I wouldn’t mind if he bit me.
Avery the Mallard Duck
When I was six years old, I was utterly decimated by a duck. That Sunday morning was serene, the morning dew had not yet departed from the crimson leaves. My mother took me to the Blue Hills reservation for a jolly little promenade in the woods.
It was too peaceful. The trees softly swayed in the wind, raining a parade of leaves and nuts on my mother and me. I was blinded by my mother’s love, by nature’s warmth, by the passing autumn wind and the fluffy Squishmallow-shaped clouds. I was too naive to understand that serenity is only the prelude to tragedy and that the natural order of the universe is chaos.
On the trail in the woods, I was tugged along by my mother when she bumped into her colleague. Striking up a lengthy conversation, she handed me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to placate me. I still remember her sandwich—a blessed combination of Skippy’s peanut butter and Smucker’s strawberry jelly, the two molding into the embodiment of culinary perfection. Her creation was wrapped gently in a Ziploc bag, which I tore open, desecrating it out of my own greed, and then savored the sandwich with a slowbite into it, letting the peanut butter and jelly swirl around my mouth à la Ratatouille. Satisfied, I wandered away from my mother, contemplating the temporality of autumn and human existence.
Do you ever think about the Roman Empire? It was a massive human undertaking, a symbol of power that now echoes throughout time. Did Caesar Augustus want to be remembered as an emperor? Did he want the empire to last forever?
Yet, everything eventually crumbles with time. The Roman Empire only exists in text and ruins, but it is still remembered. A red leaf landed next to my toes, its edges frayed by the weather. Eventually, the leaf will decay, and become nutrients for the forest, before it becomes another leaf. Humans are the same; people come and go, in life and in history. Yet leaves do not desire to be remembered—they are simply a part of nature, for they cannot think for themselves and are simply resigned to their fate. Humans want to be remembered—fame is something many chase, yet many cannot obtain. Is it irrational to be afraid of being forgotten?
My intellectual wanderings brought me to the pond, still nibbling away at my sandwich. It was then that it appeared: a mallard adorned in emerald plumage emerged from the trees, unhurriedly waddling towards me. Being six-years-old, I presumed it appeared to engage in intellectual discourse with me. As it approached, its beady eyes did not betray the fact that it was eyeing my sandwich, for they were only an ocean of darkness, not a single thought behind them at all—not even the Roman Empire.
The calm facade of the duck should have served as a precursor for what was to come. But alas, I was distracted by analyzing whether the Roman Empire could have avoided its dissolution if Constantine the Great (born as Flavius Valerius Constantinus) had not abandoned Roman’s Pagan values and switched to Christianity, and naively tore a piece of bread off for the duck.
Its beak reached out, timidly at first, but in an abruptly voracious gesture, it lunged for the entire piece, chomped down on it, tore my precious keepsake away from me and flew away. It executed all this in a precise sequence, like a ballet dancer effortlessly completing a pirouette on stage. It was almost as if the duck had performed this dance many times before.
My countenance crumpled, my eyes brimming with tears as I beheld the remains of my sandwich, or the lack of it, in my hand. At that moment, I was the saddest human to ever exist, emblematic of the most wretched sorrow, a moneyed who had lost all his worldly wealth and relegated to a beggar, a youthful vessel of grief in the Blue Hills reservation. It stole my bread, my innocence, my honor and my curiosity for the world. I despised the duck, yet it also taught me an important lesson: that sometimes, we can’t have it all.
I believe Kelly Toys Holding successfully captured the malevolent nature of ducks with Avery the Mallard Duck. His eyes are round and black, completely devoid of any emotion or compassion, but the white ring around the eyes still presents a hopeless chance for compassion. Yet even worse, his bio states he “is a skilled left wingman for the Squishmallows rugby team.” Its evil knows no bounds: not only will he never learn about the Roman Empire, but he might even be British.
Human fragility is truly a beautiful thing.
Reshma the Cow
Reshma is a pink cow with an alternate strawberry design that elevates the classic cuteness of Squishmallows. The strawberry variant of Reshma the cow proves to be popular, as an eight-inch one costs about $70 on Amazon. Cute, unique, nourishing and talented, Reshma has it all. Amazing servitude coming from Kelly Toys Holding once again. In fact, I think Sherman should consider serving strawberry milk—perhaps that would boost on-campus dining hall retention. Email me for my resume, Brandeis Hospitality.
Austin the Avocado
Do you ever wonder what avocados are? They technically are a berry from a tree, yet they don’t evoke a berry when you bite into one. They’re creamy, with a somewhat seductive buttery texture that just makes you want more, like my roommate who makes toasted avocado toast every day in our dorm*. Avocados are a great source of vitamins C, E, K and B6, and go great on everything: bread, salads and spaghetti, truly a queen in the culinary world. My mother’s favorite way to use avocados is to make an Avocado and Mango salad. The recipe calls for avocados, mangos, tomatoes, eggs, lettuce leaves, shrimp, garlic, olive oil and steak. According to Austin’s bio, he is “obsessed with outer space.” Truly, avocados are out of this world. When you can slap a smiley face onto an avocado and still have it sell like hotcakes, you really hit a jackpot. Congratulations to Kelly Toys Holding for winning capitalism.
*Our toaster oven was confiscated by the Department of Community Living.
Violet the Octopus
Some say there is elegance in simplicity, that less is more—I believe Kelly Toys Holdings mastered that concept. Violet is simple: her face is simply two dots and a smile. Almost alluring, how a simple curved line conveys the infallible image of warmth and protectiveness. If you tell it everything and anything, it will unconditionally support and affirm you, that you should always follow your dreams, that your delulus will become trululus (the worst he can do is say no), that you should pursue a business major, that you should boil ramen in a plastic bowl with a microwave at 5 a.m. and end up setting off the fire alarm because the plastic bowl melted into the now unusable microwave and charring the ramen making the dorm smell like smoke for the next five days. Violet can’t clean herself, however, so make sure to chuck her back into the ocean after you cry on her.
When you combine stuffed animals engineered to capture the hearts of people with mascots engineered over multiple decades to capture the hearts of people, you get an absolutely terrifying stuffed animal capitalism powerhouse. The Sanrio collection will explode your heart with cuteness (and your wallet), with the collaboration featuring Hello Kitty, My Melody, Kuromi, Pompompurin, Tuxedo Sam, Badtz-Maru, Chococat, Keroppi and Gudetama. They even only cost $20 each for a 20-inch one at Costco, so make sure you fill up your cart with those! (See: Squishmallows Ruined My Life: A Case Study by Vincent Lian).
Capitalism really is a monster.
Pikachu sold out so fast that even my Master Ball couldn’t catch it. If anyone on campus has managed to catch this precious little stupid rat, I am willing to take it off your hands for any price. I also have $40 of WhoCash left, and can also take on your printing expenses for the rest of the semester. If interested, you can contact me at my mailbox, #3910.
Murray the Nutcracker Mouse
Omar the Bear
Hello Kitty (Pineapple)
Hello Kitty (Zebra)
Hello Kitty (Dessert)
Hello Kitty (With Boba)
Hello Kitty (with Burger)
Hello Kitty (Gingerbread)
And there you have it, the definitive rankings of Squishmallows of all time. I will not be taking constructive criticism at this moment, as I know my taste is impeccable. You should get all of the Squishmallows in the list above, as Squishmallows will bring so much quality to your quality of life. Buying all of them only costs you a meager amount of $300, only 0.3% of your tuition at Brandeis University!
I am now at 40 Squishmallows, and I can’t stop myself. I suppose that’s why I only see my dad once a year.