Morning Cereal
Is your favorite cereal still the same without its mascot?
Journaling Kitty
It is Winter, and Han felt that the mood was right to sit in front of the heat and do some journaling
…Time for this week’s story…
Morning Cereal
Neil stood on the balcony of his one-bedroom apartment eating a bowl of his favorite morning cereal, Crookies. Crookies were essentially chocolate chip cookies with chocolate filling, but scaled down small enough to be eaten as a cereal. It had been his favorite since he was a child, and now that he was grown, he made sure to always have it on hand for weekends and days when he simply wanted to treat himself to a nice bowl of nostalgia. Sadly, every time he poured a bowl, he saw the modern mascot on the box instead of the one he grew up with.
Gone were the days of Gabagoo, an orange cat wearing the classic black and white stripes with accompanying hat of a prison inmate. He was always being chased by the cereal guard dogs, who wielded billy clubs and angry dispositions. In the commercials, those dogs were always ready to give Gabagoo a hefty beating for stealing cereal again. Neil understood that society was foam-padded for the most inept people. Still, he was dumbfounded that someone really thought a cartoon cat stealing cereal would set a bad example for children and coax them into a life of crime. Everyone saw how bad things were for Gabagoo.
One day while pondering these existential mysteries, Neil spoke the words aloud that would forever alter his relationship with Crookies. Wrapped in a warm, crimson bathrobe with matching slippers, Neil munched on his Crookies, staring at the box he said, “I wish they'd bring back Gabagoo.”
Neil crunched down on another bite of Crookies and barely had time to gulp it down before an orange cartoon cat climbed onto his balcony. The scraggly cat in prison garb had the classic large, crazy eyes that always looked in two different directions. With a toothy ear-to-ear grin, the one and only Gabagoo tipped his hat in salutation.
“Morning, sport! I see you're enjoying a bowl of delicious Crookies! That's a great way to start your day!”
While Neil stuttered with surprise, Gabagoo reached behind him and pulled out a platform with a tablecloth. On the platform was a balanced breakfast, including a bowl of Crookies, toast with butter, a bowl of strawberry slices mixed with blueberries, and a glass of orange juice. He set down the platform and took from it the bowl of Crookies. With a large spoon in one paw and the bowl in the other, Gabagoo chomped down a large scoop of cereal. When Gabagoo said his signature catch-phrase, Neil said it with him.
“Ooooh-wee! These Crookies are gabba-good!” they both said.
“Oh my God, it's you!” Neil jubilantly bounced in place.
“It's me! It's who? It's Gabagoo! What's your name, friend?”
“I'm Neil! Crookies are my favorite cereal!”
“I'm not surprised, you're clearly a man of refined tastes!” Gabagoo bounced, shoving another spoonful into his mouth.
“Gabagoo, what happened? Why did Crookies replace you as their mascot? The new mascot is lame.”
“Right? Thank you, Neil! I mean… he's a lion! That doesn't even make sense! He isn't even a crook. At least I fit the theme. These guys have totally lost the plot, man!”
“That's lame dude. I didn't realize cartoon mascots have to deal with corporate bureaucracy, too.”
“Oh yeah, man. It's bad. There's nowhere these evil corporations can't reach you. They told me it was because I set a bad example, but I think that's hogwash. See, Crookies Inc. was bought up by a big corporation and that new mascot is the grandson of the new owner! It's total nepotism, man!”
“Well, I'm glad you're still out in the world doing your thing, Gabagoo. That's awesome.”
“Thanks, Neil! I actually love Crookies. That's how I got that job to begin with. Cartoon mascots aren't supposed to be role models, that's for humans. We are supposed to be fun. They don't like old mascots doing what I do, though. I always have to stay one step ahead of the law.”
“What do you mean?” Neil asked.
“There he is!” From the nearby parking lot, a cartoon police dog blew a whistle hanging from his neck. A small brigade of cartoon dogs in police uniforms hurried around the corner.
“Aw man, I jinxed it. Time to go. Take care, Neil. Never stop loving Crookies!” Gabagoo’s legs spun themselves into a wheel.
The dogs burst through Neil’s front door in a pile and rushed to the balcony. Gabagoo waved and zipped up to the roof.
THWACK!
Cartoon sound effects appeared over Gabagoo’s head. One of the police dogs was waiting for him on the roof. The other dogs pounced on him and they turned into a tumbleweed of smoke with fists, feet and faces popping out sporadically. Neil stood back so as not to get sucked in. His body wouldn't handle the cartoon physics well.
When the smoke settled, the police dogs surrounded Gabagoo. He lay bleeding on the floor, body swollen and horribly mangled.
“Gabagoo! Hey, you didn't have to be so brutal!” Neil protested. In the commercials, they never actually caught Gabagoo.
“Quiet, human, or you're next,” barked one of the dogs.
“Neil, stay out of it. Just don't let this sour your love of Crookies! Eat them for me, Neil!”
“Alright boys, let's take him in and get some treats,” barked one of the dogs. Another police dog cuffed Gabagoo then dragged him into Neil’s apartment.
“Gabagoo, are you going to be okay? Do they at least give you Crookies in prison?”
“No, they only give us Sugar Flakes!” Gabagoo cried.
“Sugar Flakes? You monsters! Gabagoo needs a balanced breakfast!”
“Hey!” One of the dogs got in Neil’s face. “...Don't do crime.”
“Yeah, I get it,” Neil said.
The dog harrumphed and rushed off. Gabagoo sobbed as they dragged him out. A police dog slammed the door shut, leaving Neil alone in silence. Writhing in anger, he clenched his fists and roared in frustration.
“I've never wanted to do crime more than right now!”