Before I traveled to London, I was not aware of what Moomin was. Now I am enlightened. Covent Garden had two tiny markets with some collectable albums and silverware, a man singing opera into a water bottle, and the greatest fictional story to ever grace the Earth. A quaint sign of a hippopotamus looking creature caught my eye as Nick and I were trying to figure out what to do with our time. Nick and I locked eye contact and shrugged. We wandered into a dimly lit room with strange murals on the walls and the hippo creature plastered everywhere. There was a wooden staircase in the middle of all this and we were a bit hesitant, but determined to find out what Moomin was. We climbed the stairs and were launched into a cultish club of hippo trolls. Silverware, books, comic books, DVDs, clothing, candy, cookies, coasters, and pictures decorated the shop. Nick and I were enraptured with the level of fandom it must’ve taken something to get to that point. We bought coasters and fled the scene for fear of being asked to give blood for the Moomin fund. A few moments later Nick realized he left his wallet, so we journeyed back into the shop and garnered the guts to ask the worker what Moomin was. He said “Moomin is everything. It started as a Finnish comic that parodied the workplace and it is dark and funny, and now Moomin is everything.” We bought three Moomin books and willingly accepted our offering into the cult.
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