Believe it or not, yes, we have given some thought to just how zoological research should proceed in the event that someone discovers a real-life unicorn living in the wild. This Unicorn Poop Stuffed Scarf encapsulates so very many of our questions.
Since Doodle the Unicorn bears a striking, almost suspicious resemblance to the puppet that transfixed us in 2015 by selling us on the medically recommended technique for crapping multicolored soft-serve, it’s only appropriate that our queries start with just that festively fecal point of debate.
When and where did we decide that unicorns poop rainbows? Narrow this down for us, somebody. We have watched the length of breadth of “My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic,” obsessed over “The Last Unicorn,” and worn out our Blu-ray copy of “Legend.” We have yet to see a unicorn tense its mighty hindquarters and bless the earth with a cascade of Crayola ca-ca.
Nevertheless, here we are. Meet Doodle, everyone. When you grab the scarf sticking out of Doodle’s sweet little pucker, you learn that when Doodle tastes the rainbow, it only has one place to go. Come to think of it, we can only conclude from seeing this nine-inch-tall unicorn crap a cozy 5 1/2-foot-long and 5 3/4-inch-wide scarf that mythical horned horses subsist on a strict diet of Skittles-stuffed Taco Bell chalupas, and Wendy’s chili to expend a deuce of that hue and magnitude.
This especially warm scarf, which leaves Doodle hanging in terror by his bunghole from an apparent clinging rainbow turd when worn, happens to be made of a soft and notably comfy heavy-weight fleece. We can only infer from this observation that unicorns are half-goat and frequently also chow down at Old Navy clearance racks. Fascinating.
