15/07/2025
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IRN-BRU
NEW FROM IRN BRU: THE HAGGBRUBRUS HAVE BEEN UNLEASHED
Move over Labubu, Scotland’s answer to the craze has arrived, and it’s got sharp teeth, wild hair, and a raging thirst for ginger fizz.
Introducing: HaggBruBru a limited edition series of collectible plush haggis monsters, each one more feral and patriotic than the last. These aren’t your granny’s cuddly toys. These are bite sized beasts with tangled fur, a mouthful of pointy teeth, a can of Irn Bru clutched in one claw, and a dangerously Scottish artefact in the other.
6 to collect. Each one completely unhinged,
Haggis McHeidbanger, a feral wee punk rocker with a flaming tartan mohawk, constantly mid headbang. Clutches a can of Irn Bru in one claw and a laminated RockNess 2008 weekend pass in the other, which he flashes like it grants him eternal mosh pit access. He hasn’t stopped headbanging since Biffy Clyro hit the stage.
Wee Haggler, a pint sized plush pest with a greasy grin and a trench coat full of “tradeables.” Opens his jacket to reveal deep fried Mars Bars, loose teabags, bucky bottle tops, and scratched scratchcards. Clutches a can of Irn Bru like it's legal tender, and if you’ve got a sausage roll, he’ll do you a deal. No questions, no refunds, no morals.
Haggatha Christie, the most feared haggis in the scheme. Draped in leopard print and attitude, she’s perpetually mid rammy, hurling accusations and side eyes with expert precision. One paw grips her Irn Bru like a lie detector, the other clutches a crumpled handwritten list of enemies, written in smudged eyeliner and rage. If there’s peace and quiet, she’ll stop it.
Haggsy McSnackface, a jittery wee sugar gremlin with wild eyes and no off switch. Constantly mid chew, usually on something he shouldn’t be. One claw clings to a can of Irn Bru, the other is jammed through a half melted teacake that’s seen things. Crumbs trail in his wake like warning signs. If it rustles, he’ll eat it.
Hagg the Impaler, built like a tattie and twice as sturdy. Stands 7 inches of pure plush fury, gripping an Irn Bru in one claw and a tiny ceremonial claymore in the other, growls at tourists, charges at pigeons, and collects feuds like loyalty points. His soft toy tag just reads “Dinnae start.”
Haggzilla, the mythical beast of the bins, said to have emerged from the steam of a burnt out chip pan. Irn Bru can welded to his paw, and comes with a traffic cone he insists is his crown. Covered in biscuit dust, ash, and pure gallus energy. If you hear wheezing and rustling outside Greggs after dark... it's already too late.
But here’s the catch, you cannae just buy one.
HaggBruBrus are only available through the Golden Ring Pull, a rare shimmering stamp hidden on the underside of certain Irn Bru ring pull. You won’t know it’s there until you’ve already cracked it open, leaving thousands of Scots cracking tins and checking like they’re scratching a national lottery ticket fuelled by sugar and hope.
Trade 'em. Guard 'em. Just don't leave 'em unattended. The HaggBruBrus have maybe arrived?