Evil Toys

source: photobucket

Evil Furby

Growing up, I had my fair share of toy malfunctions – and I must say, short-circuited toys have been the source of the creepiest and most scarring experiences of my life.

For example – Furby. My mom and sister will never forget their Furby experience, where they took the batteries out of the furry monstrosity and it still made noise (my roommate shares my distaste for these creatures – she says that Furby’s feathers are woven with Satan’s hair).

There have been plenty of other instances involving Build-a-Bears and Hulk Hands, but the toy that freaked me out the most was my Powerpuff Girls Lanyard.

When I was 4 years old, on an excursion to the Cartoon Network store in the mall, I convinced my mom to buy me this electronic gadget attached to a lanyard. I am not even sure what this device did, all that I cared about was that it was Powerpuff Blossom’s signature pink.

I was so extremely excited to have this – I never got to have Blossom things (my sister was Blossom and I was always Buttercup, I’ll have you know). This was a rare and joyous occasion, and I was ecstatic.

For days, I wore my trusty lanyard everywhere, pressing the buttons on the heart-shaped device to hear the television show’s theme song or different characters’ classic lines and see little images appear on the puny digital screen.

Needless to say, I felt like hot stuff when I wore my handy-dandy Powerpuff Girl Lanyard. I adored this thing with all of my heart, and my post-toddler mind knew it loved me. But as is common with four year olds, I did not stay entertained for very long. The toy soon found itself in the catastrophic depths of my closet and I forgot about it.

Until one night.

https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&docid=GVupDUyWImDfoM&tbnid=n-KB4jNxtg6afM:&ved=0CAUQjRw&url=http%3A%2F%2Fpowerpuff.wikia.com%2Fwiki%2FProfessor_Utonium%2FGallery&ei=cPccU82eH8eFogT_xIHIDg&bvm=bv.62578216,d.cGU&psig=AFQjCNHWSsJVYimsPboKZq9uJfsLk0somg&ust=1394493621074188

Professor Utonium
Don’t let his pleasant smile fool you

One fateful night, when I awoke from my deep slumber to a quiet male voice. In a fog, I assumed it was my dad at first, but then I realized that it was not his voice at all, mainly because the voice kept repeating the same thing over and over again.

It took me a while to figure out what he was saying, but when I finally deciphered the phrase, it froze me to my little twin top bunk with fright.

“Girls, I have a surprise for you!”

The intonations of the voice screamed creeper, and I didn’t even know what a creeper was yet, but I  learned fairly quickly that night.

I lay in my bed for what seemed like 34 years listening to the constant refrain of some pervert demon in my room.

“Girls, I have a surprise for you!”

After thinking through all of my options of escape (the door, window, onto my sister’s bunk below), I ascertained that the voice was coming from…my closet.

Knowing that no person could possibly fit in the cramped, chaotic tornado that was my closet, it finally clicked that the voice was coming from none other than my Powerpuff Girls’ Lanyard and that the voice belonged to the Professor.

Somehow, this didn’t comfort me much. In fact, I felt betrayed by the toy I loved so much. I did, however, summon up the courage to yell for my dad.

After a couple squeaks from my petrified lungs, he finally came in, just barely awake, not knowing what was going on.

“Girls, I have a surprise for you!”

It didn’t take him long to hear the voice of a pedophile coming from my closet. After a couple minutes of searching the closet jungle, dad found the infernal object and attempted to take out the batteries.

“Girls, I have a surprise for you!” He hit it.

“Girls, I have a surprise for you!” He tried breaking it.

“Girls, I have a surprise for you!” He tried everything.

“Girls, I have a surprise for you!”

There was only one explanation: the toy was possessed! It would not shut up. And the only solution was to muffle it in some blankets and pillows. And even then, I could still hear the Professor calling out to me from my closet for the rest of the night and into the morning.

Eventually, the thing ran out of battery and ceased its repetition of the phrase that scarred me for life.  I gladly let the silly toy get lost in my closet’s abyss and, funny, I never saw it again.

Thank goodness.

But the Professor’s voice still slightly creeps me out to this day.
 

 

 

 
They are starting to put ads on our blog. We do not approve these and are not getting any residuals whatsoever, so I apologize for the content. I’ll see what I can do about it.

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