All my money are belong to Nintendo

In case you were curious how my amiibo collection is going some five years later, let's just say that my overzealous spending habits...

have not become any more measured in 2020.

Also pictured: Goosebumps. Mah fravrit berks.

#0108: Happy Meal Plush Toys

You didn't think I would miss out on Toy Eulogy's ninth birthday, did you?

If you did, I certainly wouldn't blame you, because if my research holds up, I have actually only remembered to address this blog's anniversary once. And that was in 2012, when I had only been blogging for one year.

Every subsequent January 11th came and went without any recognition whatsoever, but this year is different. And to be transparent with you, it's also completely coincidental, because I just happened to have some stuff to unload today.

Hence, today's gift to my humble little blog is less than thrilling. It's simply an assortment of Happy Meal Plush Toys. If this were any actual gift for an actual birthday, it would be on par with Homer's bowling ball.

Dated reference. Cool story.

As you would have gathered from the header image, I've dipped into two separate lines of plushes both in the interest of boosting intrigue and as a concession that I couldn't possibly squeeze enough discourse from anything here worth two articles. Or one, to be honest, but you'll learn that in short order.

The first pair should be instantly recognisable; Animal and Rowlf of Muppets fame. Evidentiarily (which should totally be a real word, don't crush my dreams) they dropped in 2003 in celebration of the Muppets' 25th anniversary. Australia received the biggest collection with ten characters, but the ones from the UK were larger and of better quality.

Which seems about right, considering my Animal is missing a fucking eyebrow.

Yeah Rowlf, you bite that shoddily made asshole! How dare he have disproportionate facial features, the dastard.

There's not much more to write about them, to be honest. Animal's arms are poseable, if you're so inclined. Autocorrect really wanted me to say that his arms are possible, and now I'm imagining some kind of existential alternate reality where his arms are in fact impossible.

Hence why I lumped them together with the rest of the (DK?) crew, promotional toys for the mediocre Lion King sequel, Simba's Pride. Having watched that movie, I don't think Simba's really got much to be proud of.

If you're looking for relevance, you could point to the fact that these licenses are all owned by Disney, but that's not really saying much nowadays, considering just about everything is owned by Disney. I vaguely suspect that I'm owned by Disney too, but so far they've done nothing with me worth noting.

They're not complex plushes by any means, though I feel that Pumbaa is absolutely spot on. He's adorable, pudgy, and filled with mirth, just like the real thing (or Kevin James). Zazu is a little less impressive, and completely out of scale, standing at the same height as a warthog. Perhaps it's a Dynamaxed Zazu?

As for — frantically checks Wikipedia — Zira, the movie's villain, she has nowhere near the charm of her on-screen parallel, but in fairness, that kind of scrawny, desperate aesthetic would be hard to nail.

What she does have, however, are a hypnotic pair of eyes that make me feel equal parts uneasy and aroused.

Don't kink shame me, dude.

Cowabunga

Brand loyalty is quite the fascinating science unto itself. Elusive, spectacular and hard to quantify, once a brand has properly hooked its claws into a demographic, purchase becomes a practical certainty. The concept has shifted from ‘this is something I want’ to ‘this is something I need’.

Take it from me, as a brand loyalist since before I could even spell the words.

My particular allegiance lies with Playmates Toys, or more specifically, their Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles line of products.

In case you were wondering, yes, I am a thirty-year old man(child), and as such, the timing of Turtles hysteria lined up perfectly with my childhood, a time where money was no object and funds were limitless, strictly because I wasn’t the one paying for anything.

But it’s not as cut and dry as getting caught up in one of the biggest fad of the early 90s. Had that been the case, my obsession would have died down with the turning of the years, in much the same way that it had for countless other products.

To this day, I still shell out my hard-earned dollars — if you’ll pardon the pun — on at least the newest iteration of Raphael, my go-to Turtle of choice. His look has changed a fair bit over the years, but he’s still the same old, surly reptile he ever was.

A lot of the foundation for Playmates’ continued success was laid down in those early days, as each new product would lean into the quirky brand and fully embrace the weird. It’s part of the reason why Turtles toys from yesteryear still attract attention from fans and non-fans alike.

If you have a Turtles figure around, literally any, grab a hold of it and take a look at it. The quality of the moulds is obscenely detailed. It’ll likely be riddled with little veins, or scars, or warts of some kind. It may have some description of little anomaly as part of the design, like a creature surreptitiously clinging on or a nondescript ‘tear’ in their costume.

Moreover, let’s observe that prior notion again, embracing the weird. Unless this particular figure happens to be one of the mainline series (in which case, why did you open it, you fiend?), it is probably doing something, or at least representing something, rather bizarre.

Is it Mike the Sewer Surfer? Or Private Porknose Bebop? Maybe it’s Wolfman Leo, or Road Ready Donatello, whose feature is that he transforms into a literal car?

Though the lunacy could easily be equated to a cash grab, it was a perfect blend of irreverence and style that suited the franchise to a T. By its nature, the Turtles brand is grandiose and bombastic; so it’s only appropriate that its merchandise have those same qualities.

With the series now in its fourth iteration of animated programming, the action figures keep chugging right along. Now they’re riding garish motorbikes and doing ‘ninja backflips’ while shouting catchphrases. Sure, it’s not quite as obtuse as “sumo Turtles”, “Turtles at a birthday party” or “Turtles as Peter Venkman” — and yes, all of these are real things — but give it a few more months, and those boys in green will be back to their wacky antics once more.

And I’ll be there every step of the way.