On the back of the Boglin box was some scant, misleading information from an un-named, Pollyanna-like biologist. The self-proclaimed "Bogologist" theorized that Boglins were the "missing link" to human personalities...though no mention of what the Boglins linked to is mentioned--human beings who had mated with things from a Louisiana swamp, perhaps? While the location is never mentioned, and in fact could be extra-terrestrial, a picture on the back of the box shows Boglins lounging about in their "natural habitat," on logs, in the swamp and generally mucking about in some kind of fetid bog.
The Bogologist goes on to insist Boglins are affectionate and each have their own distinct personality. One considers the same could be said of various demons and corporation magnates, too, of course.
Finally the information includes a family tree; there were apparently three "large" Boglins: Drool, Dwork and Vlobb who begat six smaller Boglin subspecies with unnervingly alliterative names (Squidge, Shlump, Shlurp, Sponk, Squawk and Squeel...one more and one can picture a nuclear-fallout-mutated "Snow White" scenario!).
Somewhere about halfway down the length of this diseased family tree a line branches limply off and ends with the vague proclamation, "Humans?" I'm not sure what the implication is...either that our fearless Bogologist thinks we really are the offspring of these hell-spawned hollow-rubber mutations or that our fate was sealed the moment they arrived on the planet.
No matter, the Boglins were a lot of fun. The bigger ones had those oddly realistic eyes, leering mouths and long, scorpion-like tails; the smaller ones had fixed eyes but great expressions and they all had floppy, thick arms. Made out of a gooey, pliable but strong soft rubber they were disgusting enough to repel squeamish friends but interesting enough to keep most people entertained anyway.
Oh, and their eyes glowed in the dark! Many a night I woke up in my dorm room, saw my Boglin roommate staring at me from a nearby shelf with a soft green glow and felt compelled to turn the nasty thing the other way 'round so I couldn't see its face...or rather, it couldn't see MINE.