Whatever Happened To Wendell, Cinnamon Toast Crunch's Former Mascot?

It's a tale as old as time: kindly, near-sighted chef gets pushed into early retirement by sentient, cannibalistic toast squares. When Chef Wendell was replaced as the mascot for Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal, the world kept crunching along, seemingly unperturbed by the shift in power. But whatever happened to Wendell, that pince-nez'd pioneer of miniaturization, who took regular-sized cinnamon toast and turned it into cereal squares the size of postage stamps? And why, oh why, are we left with the "Crazy Squares," who sound like rectangular Minions and whose grasp of modern technology is problematic at best?

It's not the first time Wendell's had us worried. Remember when he got stuck in TV Land, and you had to use a Magic Rescue Screen to get him out? Or when Wendell's sidekicks, Bob and Quello, mysteriously disappeared in 1991, leaving Wendell to bake, sprinkle cinnamon, and add crunch by himself? Alone on the cover of the box for the first time in four years, there was a new sadness behind Wendell's eyes, and absolutely no explanation given to the public as to the whereabouts of his compatriots.

Information about Wendell from General Mills is lacking

The team at General Mills offers a suspiciously vague response. In 2014, the company's blog marked the 30th birthday of Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal with a salute to Chef Wendell, who, the blog mentions casually, hasn't appeared on the front of the box since 2009 "and was recently taken off the back of the box, too." But this time, there is no standard issue Rescue Screen in specially marked boxes to help us locate our portly pal. The blog goes on to say that Wendell is "still at work behind the scenes" before pivoting to promote the brand's current ambassadors, the Crazy Squares.

Is he, though? The mind reels that a man of Wendell's experience and skill should be relegated to the role of sous chef, under the guidance of anthropomorphic toast squares of questionable mental stability. The General Mills history blog, which offers the only archival record of Chef Wendell's reign, was conveniently "discontinued" in 2017. Would Big Cereal have us believe Wendell went the way of Sonny the Cuckoo bird (whose struggle with dementia was well-documented, as he slowly went "cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs"), and that the chef was simply ushered into early retirement? Or is something darker afoot? Did Wendell and his colleagues open a Pandora's cereal box, creating the squares that would eventually be their own demise? If the Crazy Squares have no problem eating each other, what else (or indeed, who else) are they capable of consuming? 

Silly rabbit, tricks like these are most certainly not for kids.