Apologies to all otters, ferrets, badgers, ferret-badgers, weasels, fishers, polecats, wolverines, martens, and grisons, but the mustelid of the moment is the stoat. The mascots of the 2026 Winter Olympics are a pair of sibling stoats named Milo (short for Milano) and Tina (short for Cortina). Tina is white, just like stoats in the winter, and Milo is brown, just like stoats in the summer. Milo, the Paralympic mascot, was born without a leg and learned to use his tail as a substitute. Per official Olympics lore, Milo and Tina parted ways as they grew up—Tina moved to the city and Milo stayed in the mountains—but the two reunite each year in the winter in their childhood den. Also per the lore, Milo and Tina are “the first openly Gen Z Mascots,” implying the existence of closeted Gen Z mascots—may they one day feel secure enough in their generational identity to come out on the world stage.
Those unfamiliar with mustelids may be curious to know what the deal is with stoats, which are also called ermines. The first and most important thing to know is that they are extremely, undeniably cute.
Come on!!!Rémih, CC by-sa 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons
The second thing to know is that they are extremely deadly. This might come as a surprise to anyone who has seen a stoat’s face, which is the face of a precious baby. But these precious babies are lethal killers. Their low-slung bodies help them slink close to the ground and hunt small rodents and rabbits, as well as birds, frogs, reptiles, and invertebrates. Although an adult rabbit is much larger than a stoat, the mustelid can dispatch the rabbit with one swift bite at the base of its skull.
Stoats are so good at killing rabbits that they were introduced to New Zealand in the late 19th century to control invasive rabbits, which were introduced by European settlers and soon multiplied uncontrollably. But the highly efficient killers did not stop at rabbits, soon eliminating kākāpō and other endemic birds and lizards. Now, stoats are a major threat to New Zealand’s threatened species. They can swim for longer than an hour, allowing them to invade new islands. In 2024, conservationists spent $300,000 to kill a single male stoat on Chalky Island, home of the endemic Te Kākahu skink, the little spotted kiwi, and more kākāpō. Never has a more precious baby had such a prohibitive bounty!
Luckily, stoats are native to Italy, where their hunting prowess is not so problematic. Here in the alps, they approach prey with a swift leap and bite down on their neck to make the kill. Stoats can kill prey many times their size. This raises the question surely on everyone’s minds: Which of the past Olympics mascots would Tina and Milo butcher in broad daylight? Let’s investigate.
Phryges
2024 Summer Olympics in Paris, France
Zac Goodwin/PA Images via Getty Images
This is the least debatable match-up. Tina and Milo would murder the shit out of the Phryges, which are anthropomorphic caps associated with the French Revolution. They may have a noble spirit and storied past, but fundamentally they are hats and have no defense mechanisms. Can a hat, even one with a face, be killed? What kind of soul exists in an anthropomorphized hat, and where might it go in the afterlife? One might argue that hats were never meant to have souls, and, as such, Tina and Milo would be doing the Phryges a favor. This is indeed fortunate because Milo and Tina could easily go on a killing spree of hundreds of these without breaking a sweat.
Bing Dwen Dwen and Shuey Rhon Rhon
2022 Winter Olympics in Beijing, China
Yifan Ding/Getty Images for International Paralympic Committee
Bing Dwen Dwen, who is a giant panda with a suit of ice and a love of winter sports, presents a tricky case. As a giant panda, Bing Dwen Dwen weighs more than 200 pounds and grows as long as six feet. This would dwarf both Tina and Milo, which would grow no longer than 13 inches and each weigh about as much as an apple. At a glance, Tina and Milo would be crushed instantly by one of the panda’s heavy feet. But Bing Dwen Dwen is famous for falling down. The panda has an awkward center of gravity, and about half of the press photos of Bing Dwen Dwen show the panda having fallen, either on his back or on his stomach. I wager that Tina and Milo are fleet-footed and agile enough to dodge being crushed. All they would need is one tummy-down fall from Bing Dwen Dwen to deliver a lethal neck bite, and then they could wait from a distance as the giant panda bled out slowly in the snow.
The Paralympic mascot Shuey Rhon Rhon, who is an anthropomorphic Chinese lantern, would be obliterated instantly by any stoat, let alone two as cunning and sporty as Tina and Milo.
Soohorang and Bandabi
2018 Winter Olympics in Pyeongchang, Gangwon, South Korea
Jung Yeon-Je/AFP via Getty Images
Like stoats, Soohorang and Bandabi are so cute as to come across as benign. Soohorang the white tiger’s soft smile and bubblegum-pink nose are universally endearing, and Bandabi the moon black bear’s wry glance and rounded paws surely have never been raised in an act of violence. But do not be deceived. A white tiger and a moon bear are huge and more than capable of killing people, which means dispatching a pair of stoats would be light work. Tina and Milo might be able to dodge death for a good while, but they are no match against these two objectively adorable apex predators. I bet Soohorang and Bandabi could summarily execute Tina and Milo while half-watching an episode of Traitors. They’ve killed before, and they’ll kill again.
Fuwas
2008 Summer Olympics in Beijing, China
Guang Niu/Getty Images
The Fuwas, or good-luck dolls, each represent one of the five colored Olympic rings. At a glance, the fuwas do not look like formidable opponents. Beibei, the blue fish, symbolizes prosperity. Huanhuan, the red flame, represents the passion of sports. Nini, the green swallow, represents the sky and good luck. Yingying, the yellow Tibetan antelope represents Earth and health and is also a public relations ploy to legitimize China’s control of Tibet. Jingjing is a panda, obviously.
Surely, you must be thinking, a couple of stoats could take out five animate dolls! No. I believe there is nothing more haunted or powerful than a doll, especially one capable of speech and movement, especially one with such insidious origins as the oppression of the Tibetan people. As a child, I found the Fuwas endearing. As an adult, I see them for what they are, which is five eldritch entities with powers beyond my ken and likely some form of group telepathy that would serve them well in battle. As the picture above suggests, the Fuwas clearly have close ties to militarized forces, suggesting they may have been trained in both armed and unarmed combat. I do not think the battle between Milo and Tina and the five Fuwas will be bloodless on either side, but I do believe that at the end of the battle, the last mascot standing will be one or more Fuwas.
Olly, Syd, and Millie
2000 Summer Olympics in Sydney, Australia
John van Hasselt/Sygma via Getty Image
Syd the platypus, Millie the echidna, and Olly the kookaburra were chosen as the Sydney Olympic mascots in an attempt to avoid picking kangaroos and koalas, which were too quintessentially Australian to need the extra spotlight. (Of course, this has never stopped China from making their Olympic mascot some iteration of a panda.) This is ultimately a boon for Tina and Milo, who would have less luck slaughtering a kangaroo. Platypuses are small and fast only in the water, and Tina and Milo would be able to wait on the shore for the mammals to clamber awkwardly on land to move between waterways, lay their eggs, and rest. If a stoat can kill a kākāpō, a stoat can kill a kookaburra. The only outlier here is Millie. Her neck, like her back, is covered by spines, which would knock out a stoat’s most reliable mechanism of murder. I believe Millie’s spines would keep her safe from Tina and Milo, although she would likely be traumatized for life after watching her two best mascot friends rent limb from limb. Sharks would travel from miles away to swarm as the blood of Syd and Olly drips slowly from the planks of the pier into the harbor. Luckily, Tina and Milo are happy to share.
Izzy
1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta
Erica Denhoff/Icon Sportswire via Getty Images
Not only has there never been a mascot more susceptible to death by stoat, there has never been a mascot more deserving of such a death. Izzy, originally called “Whatizit,” is described as “a product of information technology” who is blue and wears training shoes. Izzy is not an animal, nor a human, nor an object. Izzy is an abomination. I do not know if Izzy is a vertebrate or an invertebrate or a secret third thing. I do not know if Izzy exists in the physical or digital world, but I would find a way to give Tina and Milo the scent of his trainers and let them rip him to shreds. Or perhaps swallow him whole. (I have no idea how big Izzy is supposed to be.) I take great comfort imagining the blue blob of Izzy’s body disintegrating slowly in stoat stomach acid, blue flesh (?) melting over bone (?) until all that remains is his pair of red trainers, which will resurface in the long, twisted snakes of stoat scat.
Hidy and Howdy
1988 Winter Olympics in Calgary, Alberta, Canada
Mike Powell/Allsport
Like Tina and Milo, Hidy and Howdy are a brother-sister pair of Olympic mascots. The polar bears won the spotlight after a Calgary study group ruled that a brown bear could not be the mascot again after it was chosen for the 1980 Moscow games. Polar bears are kind of the ultimate predators. They sit at the very top of the Arctic food chain and are the most carnivorous species of bear. They are actually hypercarnivores, meaning a species whose diet is more than 70 percent meat. (No one tell RFK Jr. about this cool-sounding term.) This would seem a death knell for Tina and Milo. But you forget one key detail about Hidy and Howdy, which is that the bears are Canadian. Would they fight back against the stoats? Would they dare to raise an enormous paw even if it were the one thing keeping them from dying a slow and painful death in front of thousands of onlookers? I think not. Unlike the cute-seeming but ruthless Soohorang and Bandabi, I believe Hidy and Howdy have never killed and would rather die than do so now, especially if it meant taking up arms against a fellow mascot. If the snowbanks of Alberta must run red in the stubborn name of northern hospitality, Hidy and Howdy bleeding out in the snow in a crude rendition of the Canadian flag, so be it.
Smoky
Summer Olympics 1932, Los Angeles
IOC Olympic Museum/Allsport/Getty Images
The ancestor of all Olympic mascots is Smoky the dog. Although Smoky was not an official mascot, he wandered around the Olympic Village wearing this jaunty sort of coat. Life was not always easy for Smoky—the dog suffered a few broken legs—but he could be found posing with the athletes, barking ferociously at people seeking autographs, and wearing his Olympic jacket. “Smoky was the only inhabitant of the village who spoke every language. He used the universal sign language—just wagged his tail,” read his obituary in The Los Angeles Times. Smoky was killed by a motorist who sped on without stopping. “If he reads this, he knows that he killed a little fellow who had friends in forty countries,” the article warned.
Could Tina and Milo kill Smoky? Smoky does not have the heft of a giant panda, the quills of an echidna, the ferocious bite of a white tiger, or the crushing paws of a moon bear. Unlike Izzy, Smoky does not have an easy escape into a digital realm. Unlike a hat, Smoky has a soul that mattered, and could be taken. By these accounts, things might seem bleak for Smoky. But what Tina and Milo underestimate about this little black dog is his many, many friends. Smoky was beloved by the athletes and the staff at the Olympic Village. They may not have been able to prevent his tragic death by car, but if they saw two sneaky stoats snuffling around Smoky, they would certainly come to his rescue and ensure he lived to wag another day. In this way, the power of friendship might be the greatest defense of all.
Recommended
