Sunday

I Told You It Came From Hell!!!!

This post is rated 1986 for colorful descriptions of morbid things and excessive use of the words "fuck" and "shit".

It was the 80s and back then, as I'd imagine it is now, there were toys that everyone had to get for their kids. These people would flock to their nearest store, beat the shit out of each other to get to the front of the line and then proceed to trample the remaining shit out of people to get to the stack of glorious toys.

Then they would beat the shit out of each other at the toy mecca. Sometimes they would take the toys and impale each other. Other times they would strap bombs to their tits and threaten to turn everyone into a steamy pile of cannibal's goulash if they didn't back the fuck off her toy, yo?



Yeah, not much has changed. Except now it seems we give kids guns as presents- so those grueling battles at the store are probably really interesting sometimes...

Well, as I was saying, it was the 80's and one fateful Christmas, my mother decided to do me the biggest favor she could: she bought me one of those toys. We're not exactly sure who told parents that this toy was the hottest item that year. We never really are. But, for some reason, parents were going ape shit to get their hands on one so they could be the hero for their little tyke who would shower them with a myriad of sentiments like "I hate you" and "stay the fuck out of my room" in only a few years.

So anyway, this toy ended up in my possession. My mom later recounts that she has no idea why she got me one. She knew nothing good would come of it- and it even scared the shit out of her. Nonetheless, I now share this experience with you from start to finish, hoping that in the therapeutic embrace of blogging and reading responses, we can all purge our minds of terrible childhood toys.



"Oh mother," I'd say, "thank ye so much for this fine specimen of toy. I shall indeed be the talk of the school when show-and-tell comes along. We'll dance, we'll chant, we'll giggle and rant. Why indeed it will be marvelous and I will be the envy of the lot! Thank ye much, mother."

Yes, I was an arrogant, well-spoken British chap at the age of Kindergarten.

Now, since a lot of you reading this are like ten and stuff, I figure I should explain. Teddy Ruxpin was a bear. Not just any bear, but a magic bear. He came with a book. Now, since this was the 80's and most of us didn't know how to read at that age, except for me because I was a bad ass, Teddy would do it for you.

Yes, Mr. Ruxpin was able to read along with you. His eyes would move, his mouth would flap, and he had a pleasant voice that would tell you of magical things and places.

In order to get him to talk, we had to use those D sized batteries and tapes. No, I will not explain to you what a tape is. But I will show you a wonderful commercial that will help fill in the imagination blanks:



I wish I could say that I would have become the most popular kid at school from the event, like that poor little fuck in the commercial. But pretty much if you grew up in a trailer park like I did, your parents beat the shit out of each other at the nearest Wal-mart and got you one too. So, when school finally started back up, needless to say, the popular kids were the pricks whose parents had a time machine, went to the year 2003 and bought their kids an iPod, then ventured back in time to make sure that they could prove their love with something no other kid was sure to have gotten.

Bastards.

So show-and-tell was basically a waste of time. And that was just the beginning.


Sometimes, late at night, Teddy Ruxpin didn't want to go to sleep. No, he had business to tend to. People to tie up and disembowel. Pentagrams to draw. Demons to summon. Unicorns to ride. Blood of virgins to smear on his face so he could become the most powerful wizard ever. You know, typical bear shit that most only dream of, but Teddy Ruxpin went out and got.

The only thing Teddy couldn't do was open a closet door. So, that's where the little fucker went. In the closet, at the bottom of anything I could pile on top of him. Batteries and tape removed. Closet door shut. I stopped putting my clothes up...

But I think I was wrong. About two months later, there was a story about some kid down the road who was thirteen and was found hanging from a tree by his intestines, scalp removed, odd markings all over his body, his blood dripping down his face. Police found a video tape of the murder. It went down like this:

Kid: (Playing Ghost Busters and stuff) Have no fear, the Ghost Busters are here!

Teddy: (lurking in the bushes) .

Kid: AAHHH! There's one right there!

Teddy: (now out of the bushes, right behind kid) You ain't afraid of no ghosts, but I'm a whole different motherfucker!

Kid: (turns around) Who said that? (looks down) AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! WHAT THE FUCK?!! OH FUCK! OH SHIT! OH FUCK! OH FUCKSHIT!

Teddy: Scream all you want, but I'm Teddy Ruxpin and I'm going to eat your dinner now.

Kid: (stops screaming) What? You're going to eat my dinner now?

Teddy: (licks lips) Yes. Your bitch of a mother was too lazy to cook, so she made you one of those TV dinners that are all the rage now. You had chicken fried steak, corn and mashed potatoes made by Swanson. Quite delicious, albeit rubbery. Anyways, I am going to cut your gut now, and feast on your food that is partially digested. This is something that I have to do because as you can see, I have no teeth.

Kid: (backing away slowly) Um... What the...

Teddy: (advancing towards kid, pulling a Teddy Ruxpin-sized knife out of pocket) Don't run little man, I really hate chasing people.

Kid: (starting to run, Teddy in hot pursuit) GET AWAY FROM ME! MOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

Teddy: HUZZAH! (slices kid's Achilles heel, kid falls to ground immobilized)

And basically Teddy did what he said he'd do. Pretty damn gross. He literally cut the kids stomach open, inserted a straw, started slurping out mushy chicken fried steak, corn and mashed potatoes and then lassoed the kid's intestine over a tree branch and hoisted him up.

The rest of the details are just too much to describe here. I am trying to keep this post rated "PG-13". No, not 1986 "PG-13", where uttering a curse word was enough to land you an "R" rating. Rather, "2011 "PG-13.

So, back to my story.

Once I learned of this, I did the only thing I knew I could do: I attempted to make Teddy blind, by gouging out his eyes. The only problem was that I underestimated Teddy's will to carry on.

We got into a tussle, Teddy started choking me. I punched him in the testicles. He whimpered, then went into a rage and started to bite my ear. Then he realized he was having no luck (because he doesn't have teeth, remember?) and started pleading for me to let him go. I caved, because I am a sucker for pleading. Set Teddy down, and made him promise he would never do evil again.

He looked at me with his remaining eye, tears streaming, Teddy-blood flowing from the empty socket, and promised he'd never do no evil again.



As you can see, Teddy's creepy factor went up ten-fold. I had no choice but to retire him to the closet again. He said he fully understood.

But what I didn't really understand at that naive age was the implications of a double-negative. For you see, when Teddy said "never do no", he did so intentionally to take advantage of my trusting mind. Having said that, he might as well have said "Hahahahahaha, I am going to kill you in your sleep and eat your dinner!", because that is in essence what he meant.

Stupid kids.

Anyway, mom remembers finding the disfigured toy in my closet once. We never talked about it again. He stayed there for the longest time. Until a few years later, when we were packing up to move, and I discovered that he was no longer there.....

So if you happen to be a parent, especially one in that suburb of Dallas I grew up in, two things: (a) Please don't buy your kid these shitty toys and (b) if you see an eyeless, two-foot tall demon bear in your house, kill it with fire! Unless you have kids like the ones I blogged about last week, in which case you should let them fight each other and catch it on film and post it on youtube for Splattercore to blog about.

-Joel

PS: I am not kidding. That bastard disappeared and to this day no one knows how or why.

3 comments:

  1. holy crap that bear is scary...

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  2. Lol, this reminds me one of those antique style dolls my mom gave me once... I swear that thing would stare at me plotting something evil

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