“We’re figur-ine it out!”: SONNY ANGELS TELL ALL IN EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW

As collectors pile up their Sonny Angels and Smiskis, the small toys liven up at night to air out their grudges as they suffer from loneliness—and pneumonia.


Recently, a brand new style of collectible figurines has been taking the Philippines by storm—but for concerningly bizarre reasons. The gacha blind boxes Sonny Angels and Smiskis, with their adorably varied design editions, have gotten customers in a purchase frenzy, chasing after the exact figurine they desire. 

But there have been reports of strange occurrences surrounding these figurines. Many Lasallian collectors have shared their experiences on the DLSU Freedom Wall after noticing these seemingly unintelligent inanimate objects show signs of sentience. According to #DLSUFreedomWall666, their Sonny Angels and Smiskis would suddenly go missing or end up in odd places. 

This wave of unusual activity has prompted an investigation on the true nature of these toys. Despite their grouchiness toward humans due to the treatment they get from their owners, an elusive group of Sonny Angels and Smiskis agreed to an exclusive sit-down tell-all interview with The LuhSallian to chronicle their lives as well-maintained collectibles. 

When angels cry

The first to admit to the oddities experienced by Lasallian collectors was a clan of Sonny Angels. Much like the rumored reports, they confirm to occasionally move from place to place. But what does not seem to get noticed is their tear-stained and grieved faces. Being physically naked is one thing; but being stripped bare to their emotions as they bemoan their struggles as a collectible is another.

“It’s so different now,” Carrot Sonny Angel wails. “Before, all of us had a personal relationship with our owners. Now they barely get to know us.” Apart from the personal relationships with theirs that have suffered, the Sonny Angels bring up the dismay they feel about their replaceability. Their collectors would easily call a new Angel their favorite but would show tremendous disappointment when they receive an unexpected angel. “They can’t even pretend [to be happy]. It makes us feel unloved! We are robbed [of love],” Carrot Sonny Angel breaks down, before continuing to bawl in a corner and ultimately opting out of the interview. 

The clan shares that an estimate of over 500 Sonny Angel dolls exist. While some come from collections that vary from special editions to discontinued ones, the number only continues to grow as collection sets are continuously given birth to. Penguin Sonny Angel weighs in, “At the end of the day, it’s in the hands of our owners. But the life of our clan is also valuable. All I want is for our owners to care a little!” Unlucky as they are to have their fate as mere forgotten objects of display, they warn that this doesn’t exclusively happen on their end. 

Phosphorescent philosophies

“I honestly don’t have a lot to say about this,” says Researching Smiski, who is always found on its owner’s desk, aggressively typing secret somethings. “Maybe it’s because I’m looking at this screen 24/7, and there are other things to worry about.” True enough, the sentiment was shared by some of the rest. With their dynamic lives to credit for this lack of opinion, it’s not a surprise that their activities withhold them from noticing the Sonny Angels in anguish.

Smiskis got work to do, paintings to model for, people to cheer on, and so much more. “It’s hard to tell with our crisis-mode faces, but we’re pretty chill and have a lot to live for,” they share. The Smiskis resonate with humanistic burdens, mirroring the inner turmoils of their collectors one spirited pose at a time. They also emphasize an important responsibility, “We glow! We spend all day collecting light to bring joy even when it’s dark at night.”

But while some species feel comfortable in all their glory and purpose-driven lives, others aren’t. Researching Smiski adds that some of their fellow species empathize with the Sonny Angels in their lamentations: “[Other Smiskis] see where the [Sonny] Angels are coming from. As different as my overall opinion is, I can’t deny the blindness our clanmates have on the idea that some of us are more valued than the rest.”

Researching explains the concept of owners having priorities—a desired design above others. “If you’re not what they want, you’re either gonna hear sad things about you, placed somewhere unimportant, sold or traded,” they whisper. Said treatments are wounding blows to their plastic spirits. But in hindsight, the Smiskis believe that getting sold or traded are the better options, than enduring neglectful treatment from one’s owner.

Hopping around the issue

Known colloquially by the other toys as “Dust Bunny,” an elder manufactured long before the current wave of tabletop figurines alerted everyone of its existence through a faint bout of coughs. Dormant in the untouched corner between the bedroom wall and closet lay this lone rabbit of the ancient Sylvanian Families line, ironically without any family members of its marketed set to show for. Cast aside and forgotten for over a decade, this toy has plenty to say about what is to come when fads begin to fizzle out

“For beings without any sort of biological processes, you’d think it would be impossible to develop pneumonia. But being caked in grime will do that to ‘ya,” Dust Bunny manages to wheeze out after numerous pauses. Unlike the rest, Dust Bunny was not a purchase but a gift to the owner, giving it a reason to initially believe it held greater value due to sentimentality. Instead, it found itself resigned to watching its owner undergo unsustainable spikes of joy due to their spending habits, commenting, “Something new on the internet catches your eye, the waiting game begins—you order online, participate in meet-ups, head to stores. The anticipation builds into a brief moment you eventually seek to relish in over and over [again].”

Amid squabbles over which one line of collectible figures deserves spots on the display shelves, the Sonny Angels and Smiskis unitedly wish, “Please, please, please do not let me be the next Dust Bunny.”

For collectors of any sort, there is no shame in losing interest in previously cherished items after repeatedly falling victim to the pitfalls of over-consumerism. There is, however, an expectation to exhibit responsibility by ensuring unwanted figurines are placed into hands that will manage them with care until the gleam in their owner’s eyes, too, inevitably fades.


This article was published in The LaSallian‘s Spoof 2024 issue. To read more, visit bit.ly/TLSSpoof2024.