I would like to start by saying that I went into this date with an open mind. This was my first mistake.

The Trix Rabbit is objectively attractive. I feel comfortable saying that publicly. He has energy. He has confidence. He has the kind of charisma that makes you immediately suspicious because nobody should be that enthusiastic at all times. Looking back, the warning signs were obvious. I just mistook them for personality.

The date began normally enough. We agreed to meet for coffee. When I arrived, the Rabbit was already there. Unfortunately, so was a second Rabbit. And a third Rabbit. And what appeared to be a fourth Rabbit wearing a fake mustache.

This was my first introduction to what I would later learn is simply how he lives.

The thing about the Trix Rabbit is that he does not believe in solving problems directly. Every challenge is approached through an unnecessarily elaborate scheme. Most people would order a coffee. The Rabbit somehow turned ordering coffee into a three phase operation involving disguises, fake names, and what I can only describe as an escape route.

At first I thought he was joking. He was not.

As the date progressed, I discovered that the Rabbit spends approximately ninety percent of his waking hours pursuing Trix. Not eating Trix. Not reviewing Trix. Not manufacturing Trix. Pursuing Trix. The pursuit itself appears to be the hobby. If someone simply handed him a bowl, I am honestly not convinced he would know what to do next.

Several times during the date, I found myself wondering whether I was the third wheel. The answer was yes.

At one point he became distracted by a child carrying a cereal box approximately fifty yards away. I watched a fully grown mascot completely lose focus mid sentence and stare into the distance like a war veteran hearing helicopters. His eyes narrowed. His breathing changed. For a brief moment I thought he was about to propose a heist.

As it turns out, he was. The most alarming part was that the plan was actually pretty good. Unfortunately, this is also the problem.

The Rabbit possesses an incredible amount of intelligence, creativity, and determination. He has simply chosen to dedicate those gifts toward repeatedly attempting the exact same unsuccessful objective for decades. Imagine what he could accomplish if he applied himself literally anywhere else. He could run a company. He could solve major societal problems. He could probably become president.

The emotional experience of the date was exhausting. Every time I thought he had matured, he would reveal another disguise hidden somewhere on his person. Every time I thought he was becoming serious, he would explain a new cereal acquisition strategy with the enthusiasm of a criminal mastermind unveiling a bank robbery.

And yet. I cannot deny that I had fun.

The Rabbit listens. He is funny. He is fully present. He remembers details. He is passionate. Maybe too passionate. Definitely too passionate. Concerningly passionate. But passionate.

The evening eventually ended after he abruptly disappeared while claiming he had "one last thing to take care of." I assumed this was an excuse to leave. Several minutes later I looked across the parking lot and discovered him attempting to negotiate with a group of children over a family sized box of Trix. The negotiations appeared unsuccessful.

Months later, when we published the mascot rankings and placed him sixth, several readers questioned why he wasn't higher. To those readers, I would simply ask whether they have ever attempted to compete romantically with a breakfast cereal. Because I have. And I lost.

The Rabbit is charming. The Rabbit is entertaining. The Rabbit is emotionally available in ways most mascots can only dream of.