Yesterday, my dear friend Natalie emailed me with a question. It seemed she had a new cubemate and needed a name for it. I wasn't sure what I expected to see a picture of when I opened the email, but what I saw was this:
That is a Weepul, everyone. A chicken Weepul (whose name is now Seamus O'Toole, by the way). That Weepul brought back a great memory. One day when I was in elementary school, we were all brought to an assembly in the cafeteria. There was a presentation set up, along with a money machine, microphones, and crazy lights. When the show started, we learned that we were going to fun-raise!!! I don't remember what we were going to sell, but we needed to sell a lot of it. And it was called fun-raising because it was going to be... you guessed it, fun!!
Now, anyone who knows about these school fun-raisers knows that there's always an incentive for reaching goals. Sometimes it's a concert, or lollipops, gold stars, or a chance to go to a local professional sports event. But not with this fun-rasier. Our incentive to hit the street and sell whatever it was we were selling was Weepuls!! Weepuls, people. Craft balls with sticky feet, googly eyes, and tiny clothes. Of course, these were the low end prizes - if we sold enough, we could "buy" stuff with our points like boom boxes and disco lights. The top sellers would get a minute in the money machine to grab as much cash as they could.
Anyfluff, you would not believe the frenzy that started over those darn Weepuls. Our family didn't participate in school fundraisers because we did sports and girl scouts and whatever else and therefore had already tapped out our resources. But, man! I wanted a Weepul so bad. They had animal Weepuls and cop Weepuls, and basketball player Weepuls. They even had the highly-coveted giant Weepuls!! The school went rabid in its quest for freaking Weepuls. I think everyone even forgot there were better prizes than just Weepuls. I remember being in class and admiring my friends' Weepuls. I really wanted the little pink baby Weepul, with it's little bonnet. Eventually, there was a ban on them - they were so distracting, you couldn't have your Weepuls at school anymore. It was really kinda sad. And also very funny, in hindsight.
When I look back on it, the funniest part was that those fun-raiser jokers laughed their happy asses all the way to the freaking bank after making kids sell crap for glorified cotton balls. You have to commend them for it. It's brilliant.
Do you remember Weepuls? Or have you decided by now that I'm sniffing glue?