The Boss made me go here, as revenge.
I don't like this stuff. Not one bit.
This is Christie, my pal Scott's wife. She works at the store, proof she has an unnaturally high tolerance for pure soulsucking horror.
Also, an unnaturally high tolerance for very drunk Scott.
Anyway, the antique store is just chock full of chilling, disturbing stuff.
Everyone knows these dolls will come to life in the middle of the night and get you. Why don't they burn them? Why?
If the thing were there — and if I were not dreaming — the implications would be quite beyond the power of the human spirit to bear. What tormented me most was my momentary inability to feel that my surroundings were a dream. — H. P. Lovecraft, The Shadow Out of Time
"Hey look, Scott, this one's got a touch of the Downies."
"Man, there's no way that's not intentional. Why would they do that? Do you think it was, like, to teach kids about retards?"
Great — creepy AND racist.
Holy shit, so racist.
"Aw, jeez, even Dr. King is racist in here."
"He looks like Cab Calloway or something. He's steppin' out on stage and fixin' to sing white folks a little tune."
"Is that all Martin Luther King is to these people? He was so much more than just an entertainer."
"Hm, well I think it's racist."
"What stereotype are they supposed to be perpetuating here, I wonder?"
"It's racism all right. Incompetent racism."
"Ah yes, incompetent racism. The only thing more hilarious than regular racism."
What little girl wouldn't be delighted by finding this in her stocking Christmas morning?
Or Weiner Nose Game? This season all the kids are hoping for Weiner Nose Game.
Speaking of Christmas... He knows when you are sleeping.
He knows when you're awake.
He knows when you've been bad or good.
So be good.
AAAAAAGH HE KNOWS WHEN YOU ARE SLEEPING
"Now give mumsy a kiss! And maybe she'll let you keep some of your blood."
Fuck, look at this scary pig.
Fuck! Fuck fuck!
Fucking fuck this creepy shit. Seriously.
Its sharp white teeth gleamed in the gaping red mouth, and I could feel its hot breath fierce and acrid upon me... Bram Stoker, Dracula's Guest and Other Weird Stories
"Gosh Kevin, with you drugged and tied to my Japanese radiator, I can have sex with you whenever I want! And then I'll dismember and cook you, like I did the last three."
"...and some say if you peel off the paint, a real dead lady head will be there inside."
"Hey Pa, we got us a fat one we can eat on for at least half the winter!"
Man, baby eating? This stuff is really taking me to some dark places.
"The fairy queen said if I don't eat a baby for 100 years, she'll turn me into a real boy! And then I can eat all the babies I want."
Well, this is a bit more cheerful.
Webster was much possessed by death
And saw the skull beneath the skin;
And breastless creatures under ground
Leaned backward with a lipless grin. — T. S. Eliot, Whispers of Immortality
Really, is there any good reason on Earth for any of this stuff to exist?