Burdened by the cruel irony of a being forced (by contract) to don a perpetually grinning mask, we caught up everyone’s favourite mascot Boo Hoo the Bear at a Gaels football match, as he struggled through every method of communication to impress on us the fundamental loneliness he feels every day. At first he used his lumbersome cheaply furred paws to try and scrawl a message with pen and paper,“Me Sad” , but was mistaken for jovial gesturing and succeeded only in rousing three separate Cha Gheill’s.
A consummate professional, Boo Hoo the Bear has been tamping down his existential funk for years while on the job, but lately has been allowing his ennui to seep into his work. The first warning sign of his depression was his shift from his original name, Boo the Bear, to the more pleading Boo Hoo the Bear, but this was greeted with cruel indifference by the masses who reportedly just wanted to see him struggle to flip them off in his mitted inexpressive gloves. This perpetual miscommunication continued for years, with the poor soul trapped inside the anthropogenic bear costume spending all his free time for three years learning morse code in an attempt to communicate. The noble effort only encouraged attendees to start weirdly syncopated claps on three separate occasions, which confounded all except an old grizzled Air Force veteran who was confused as to why any group of people would applaud “HELP ME”
His diary has an entry, To his dismay, his obvious terror at the prospect of continuing to exist in an apparently uncaring world were greeted with adoration by the crowd whilst at a football game. “I love Boo Hoo the Bear”, said local drunk Dave McDonald, “He keeps on rolling on the ground in a fetal position. It’s hilarious!”
Principal Woolf, in an exclusive interview with the Journal, (that we felt obligated to report on so that people would actually hear about it), had very little in terms of support for the mascot’s dilemma. “I also was burdened with an ironic name, as I am in fact a werewolf” said the principal, smiling happily, with his loving wife and caring family all around him, “I really think he ought to just shake off this mood and get a hobby or something” His audience dutifully applauded out of the respect and love that they felt for the excellent man.
Every time he came close to letting people understand his inner monologue, more often than not by playing Smokey Robinson’s “Tears of a Clown” and forcefully gesturing to himself, he was called up to rally the energy of the crowd once more. Onlookers noted that the rigorous exercise did nothing to quell the tears silently streaming under his frozen but adorable mask. At press time, Boo Hoo was seen creating a Tinder profile: alternating his time between mechanically swiping right and staring whistfully at his zero matches.