Pludwump, Leader of Wool-Tribe

Overheard in the encampment of the Moon-Stuffing Clan, Year of the Potato:

“Look, I’m telling you, there is something weird about Wool-Tribe.”

“Dude, don’t be racist. Just because they’re not like us—”

“I’m not being racist. I’m not saying they’re weird because they’re stuffed sheep, I’m saying they’re weirdos who happen to be stuffed sheep. It would still be weird behavior even if they were chickens or teddy-bears or woolly mammoths or something.”

“Well, fine, maybe they’re a little odd, but they let us pass through their territory, which is more than you can say for some of the other tribes.”

“Yeeeeeah….”

“Is this about their shaman? Because shamans don’t count. All shamans are nuts. Our shaman is nuts.”

“It’s not about their shaman. Frankly, it’s their chief. I think there’s something really wrong with him.”

“Pludwump? There’s nothing wrong with him.”

“Says you.”

“Maybe he’s a berserker, did you think of that? Do you have something against berserkers?”

“He is not a berserker. My mother was a berserker, okay? I have no problem with berserkers! Whatever’s wrong with him, it’s not that.”

“Well then, what is it?”

“….I dunno, man. Something about the eyes…”

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My latest foray into art dolls, Pludwump, Chief of the Wool-Tribe! He’s 8 inches tall, 12 inches long, 11 inches wide, and came out a little more rotund than expected. (I’m still learning how to design these bodies)

Sewing his little dreadlocks on and stringing beads on them was way too much fun. And now there is pink fur EVERYWHERE. (He's pretty huggable, though.)