BlueAssBeryy CREEPYFRIENDS Collectible Plush

SHE TASTES LIKE REGRET.

Deep in the forgotten aisle of a bankrupt candy factory, behind expired chocolate and dust-covered lollipops, a single prototype sat on a shelf. It was never mass-produced. It was never taste-tested. It was simply... forgotten.

Until it started moving.

Introducing a new entity in the CREEPYFRIENDS Collection:

BLUEASSBERRY (The Sour One)

She was supposed to be the next big thing. A candy so blue, so sour, so aggressively artificial that kids would beg for it. But the factory closed. The workers left. And the test batch sat in the dark for decades.

Now she's not candy anymore. She's something that wears candy like a skin.

Blue fur. Oversized head. A permanent wink that isn't playful—it's stuck. She smells like sugar and mildew and something chemical. Something that shouldn't be eaten. Something that eats back.

THE DETAILS:

• Appearance: Shocking blue fur that stains your fingers if you hold her too long. Oversized round head with a single winking eye. The other eye is sewn shut. You don't want to see what's under it.

• The Mouth: Tiny. Pursed. Like she's permanently sucking on something sour. It never opens. You'll hear sounds coming from inside her anyway.

• The Texture: Sticky. Not in a gross way. In a way that makes you wash your hands and still feel her on you hours later.

• The Scent: Artificial blue raspberry. Strong. Overpowering. It lingers in rooms long after she's left. It gets into your clothes. Your pillows. Your dreams.

THE COLLECTOR'S NOTE:
BlueAssBerry doesn't walk. She doesn't have legs. She just appears on counters. On shelves. On the kitchen table next to an empty glass. She was never tasted, and now she's hungry for something sweeter than sugar.

Owners report finding blue smudges on their walls. On their mirrors. On their skin while sleeping. The stains don't wash off. They fade eventually. But they always come back when she's near.

She doesn't speak. But sometimes, if you hold her to your ear, you can hear the hum of old machinery. The clank of conveyor belts. The screaming of candy that never got eaten.

THE RITUAL (DROP INFO):
The factory is gone. The molds are destroyed. These prototypes are all that remain. A tiny batch escaped before the building was demolished. They are looking for new homes. New mouths. New tastes.

Bring her home. But don't lick her. Whatever you do, don't lick her.

// WARNING: IF SHE STARTS TO DRIP BLUE LIQUID, DO NOT TASTE IT. IT IS NOT CANDY. IF YOU FIND BLUE STAINS ON YOUR TONGUE IN THE MORNING, YOU ATE SOMETHING IN YOUR SLEEP. YOU WON'T REMEMBER WHAT. IF SHE WINKS AT YOU WITH THE OTHER EYE, THE ONE THAT WAS SEWN SHUT, RUN. SHE IS NOT WINKING. SHE IS WAKING UP. //