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Death of a Furby
ifeedformula wrote in metaquotes
ladydyani brings on teh funny again.

When my daughter was three, we somehow managed to beat the other people away and get her a Furby for Christmas. (Remember how popular those were? And how hard they were to find?)

She opens it Christmas morning, and is absolutely delighted. After presents are finished, I'm in the kitchen, cleaning up the breakfast dishes. She's taking Furby around and showing him the house. I hear "This is the living room." Step, step, step. "This is the kitchen." Step, step, step. "This is the bathroom." Pause. "Go potty." SPLASH!

She dropped poor Furby in the toilet. I suppose dropped is the wrong word. Shoved would be more appropriate.

After a painstaking drying, he did manage to work again, but for the rest of his life, he would randomly blurt out odd sounds every once in a while.

Poor Furby.

The context has been savaged by a small child

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My cousin had a Teddy Ruxpin, but I had a My Buddy doll. Does anyone remember those? I was convinced (I was like four) that this doll was Chuckie. I forced my parents to hide it in the garage. Then mice ate off his nose, and I was afraid he would kill me in retaliation. I found out like two years ago, everyone who had a My Buddy doll thought it was Chuckie and was afraid of them.
My friend had a bear that used to talk. It freaked her roommate, so she took out the batteries. And it still talked! How I ask you. How?

I think everyone with a My Buddy doll burned it after Child's Play came out. There's no WAY Chucky wasn't modeled on those!

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