As a kid I was so shy and lonely, I pined exhaustively for my stuffed animals to just friggin’ wake up already and hang out and party. I burrowed my face into their furs and weeped requests for magic to finally radiate into the world. Tenderheart bear was tragically always damp, nightly raped, pushed between my legs and humped unmercifully. I clung to the notion of miracles with brutal desperation, and violently, endlessly squeezed Glo Worm's thorax to release the light of his possible life.
His head would have been the torch to beckon forward the plushies to rise! His guiding light would stand for liberation and for all stuffed animal magic to seize the light of lonely days with soft rainbow sorcery! But that day never came and the stuffed animals just stayed unresponsive, their plastic glaucomic eyeballs staring into the ether with frozen death. I was getting no reaction out of these guys!
Their participation efforts were indolent and their attitudes were lame. They just sat there! If I told a funny joke, they just stiffly, stuffily posed. Mayyyybe if they weren't propped up correctly, they’d go tumbling to the ground. But that was it. I had enough of these plushy poseurs. Smell you later Cabbage Patch Koosas, helloooo Teddy Fucking Ruxpin!
Well, I wish. My parents refused to purchase a Teddy fucking Ruxpin. And, if it was more than 10 bucks, it was totally out of my price range, so no Teddy. But that prince of princes, that idea, that voice, those blinking eyes, that avant-beige jumper haunted my imagination. I wanted and sooo yearned, moaned up at the moon, prayed and begged for a fake friend just like Prince Ruxpin. I still believed in stuffed animal magic, and was not going to let my own lazy ass plushies thwart my beliefs. I figured that Teddy Ruxpin would receive my wish through the magic of a supernatural assistant, such as a shooting star. But many years passed and I outgrew the fake friend age, but still felt irresistibly attracted to this invention.
So, yeah, I got a Tamagotchi. So what? But I let him die. Eh, he was too helpless. I needed a fake friend that could hold his own and get wild and not need someone to clean up his fake poops. Then I got a vibrator but he was too loud and needed to be hid and smelled like Band-aids. Then, just as I was about to give up, a cute, psychedelic little descendent of prince Teddy came on the scene. Furbee was his name. He had the same eyes as Teddy too. His blinking was very similar to Teddy’s. Sigh.
Oh Furby. Furby was quite exotic and spoke his own language, which was cool, and you could pick up on certain sounds and could decipher what Furby was trying to say. But, just like the stuffed animal magic that I prayed for, Furby would gradually, actually learn English! And, you could interact using words. Some Furbies were known to be extra chatty and playful. Mine was sorta mid-grade. I think he had chilblains, whatever that is. Eventually his battery died and my dad told me to take it out or the battery would leak acid all over Furby's insides and he would slowly be devoured by his own fuel. Finally, I got a kitten and sadly, Furby did succumb to rot.