Welcome to the Mopaverse

Somewhere in the ordinary world—on couches, in blanket forts, and on street corners you never noticed—live creatures called Mopas. They are round balls of fur with tiny mitten arms and legs, extremely lazy, extremely cute, and easily overwhelmed by almost everything. They do not call cookies cookies. They call them cooks. If the day has been hard, a Mopa may pray to Yamagushka, the god who watches over them from Mopa heaven, and ask for cooks.

When a Mopa is irritated—and this happens often—it may poop itself and throw the poop at roughly ninety miles per hour at whoever upset it. The poop looks orderly and cute, like the classic emoji. When a human watches a Mopa eat a cook, the Mopa takes tiny, adorable nibbles. The moment the human looks away, the entire cook vanishes, leaving only crumbs on the Mopa’s face. This is considered normal.

There is also Pupurina, goddess of poo, who is somehow Yamagushka’s cousin. Nobody is entirely sure what that means, and almost everything in the Mopaverse is meant to stay a little vague. Mopas are not alone: Kapis bounce around them like overexcited puppies, begging for adventure while Mopas try to remain horizontal. Some Mopas belong to clans—the harass kind, the Hawaiian kind, the prison kind, the Pupu clan. Some are famous on their own. Most simply want to be cozy.

Older Mopas speak of a war most have forgotten, of a Devil Mope and a Savior Mope, of chains and cookie factories and a word—unikana—that still slips out without reason. Whether any of it is true is unclear. The Mopas themselves are not sure. You are welcome to meet them anyway.