Today we ponder the most emotive of questions. Do giant, narcoleptic, surreal cats actually exist? Well we’d like to think they do, but many people have told us over the years that Studio Ghibli’s films are just films and, actually, they have nothing to do with reality.
Now Professional Moron’s Mr. Wapojif has only a slim grasp of what’s going on at the best of times, but he CAN tell the difference between when something’s real or not, and he can confirm Totoro does indeed exist.
He came to me in a dream as I slept last month, and he said (in a thin, reedy voice devastated by decades of smoking), “O’reet? I’m real you know!”
And then there was a terrific shriek as Brad Pitt strolled by walking his pet Tyrannosaurus Rex, and Winston Churchill was hovering overhead on a nuclear warhead whilst whistling Sir Paul McCartney’s “Frog Song”.
It all goes hazy after this bit, but we do consider the Totoro bit to be a truthful truth. And there’s nothing better than telling the truth. Just ask any tabloid newspaper you dare come across!
So why did we go on a hunt to prove Totoro as a real beast? Well, to provide the pictures we’ve accumulated as pictorial evidence! That’s why, idiots!
Because Studio Ghibli’s My Neighbour Tororo is fabulous. See, we support it? Anyway, join us on our mystical journey to find Totoro. We journeyed long and far to uncover the glorious truths. Onwards, comrade!
As with many great tales through history, it all began in a psychotically bizarre lucid dream.
Upon waking, Mr. Wapojif walked onto his balcony and gazed, amidst the whipping wintery winds, at the scene before him.
He knew then that his life’s mission was to find Totoro and bring him back to his flat in Manchester to live happily ever after.
Packing his suitcase full of jam, cat food, bits of string, aspic, and tins of tuna, Mr. Wapojif set forth on his merry journey!
He roamed over many hills, and was attacked by many strangers, but before long he found he had waddled from England to Japan in but a mere 3 months.
His shoes, having long since disintegrated, lay in Skegness, whilst his hat (having been stolen by a honey badger) was in Africa. Yet, despite being bedraggled, Mr. Wapojif knew his mission was close to fruition!
The First Clues!
Mr. Wapojif wept for seventeen hours upon seeing the legendary bus stop.
Whilst natives gathered to discuss what to do with this weirdo curled up in a ball in the middle of the road, it was eventually decided to feed him sashimi until he realised it would be polite to shift out of the way.
“Arigatō!” (“ありがとう!”) he wailed in his best Japanese accent. Unfortunately the natives considered this a racist slur and karate chopped his stupid mug one.
This knock to the head did not deter Mr. Wapojif’s fervent desire to find Totoro. After more walking he came across this… it’s the Tree of Totoro!
I scaled it but, unfortunately, halfway up I slipped and fell to earth, whacking my head one on the way down. Afterwards I began to hear voices in my head. The voices said, “Totoro is close… keep searching, brave eco warrior!”
Another Totoro Clue
When I saw this from up the tree (before I fell), I knew I was on the case. I could see them waving at me, and as I ran towards them I was filled with a sort of glee.
The thing turned out to be a sort of display and I merely bounced off it onto the floor.
This new knock to my head brought about hallucinations (or so I was told later), and I began to be led by Hayao Miyazaki (in the form of a monstrously ghost like 70ft Godzilla) towards the city centre of Nippon somewhere…
I arrived in the city with all sorts of weird things buzzing through my brain, but I was so close by this point I was beginning to shake violently and babble vitriolic profanities. “Totoro is near…” I breathed into everyone’s startled faces.
I began to laugh manically in between bites of sushi, and not even some truly disturbed looking policemen could keep my rabid rambling under control. Then I spotted the Catbus! I hitched a lift to see if I could find the one I sought.
As we rounded a corner my body froze for a moment in time, “THERE HE IS! I told you he exists!” I screamed at ear-piercingly high volume.
I ran to embrace Totoro and he waddled towards me. We hugged violently. Unfortunately, when I tried to chloroform him in order to get his body back home, he responded by head butting me.
Upon my regaining consciousness all traces of Totoro were lost, and my dream shall never reach fruition. I returned to Manchester despondent.
Still, at least I can watch the film again.