The Toy Thread
First off: I WANT A MAGNA DOODLE. Does anyone else remember Magna Doodle?
Secondly, does it seem like no lasting toy lines really came out of the 1990s? When I think of toys from the '80s, I can think of lots of things that are still in production and/or popular in one form or another: Simon, Transformers, My Little Pony, etc. But when I try to think of toys associated with the 1990s they tend to be fad items that have pretty much died off: Furby, Tickle-Me-Elmo, Tamagotchi, etc.
Secondly, does it seem like no lasting toy lines really came out of the 1990s? When I think of toys from the '80s, I can think of lots of things that are still in production and/or popular in one form or another: Simon, Transformers, My Little Pony, etc. But when I try to think of toys associated with the 1990s they tend to be fad items that have pretty much died off: Furby, Tickle-Me-Elmo, Tamagotchi, etc.
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As for the 90s...video games took over or something, I dunno.
Also, when I think of 2000s toylines I think of Bratz.
And for the past couple years I mainly associate Bratz with all the legal battles surrounding them.
i get so angry sometimes i just punch plankton --Klinotaxis
^ Why did you think that?
i get so angry sometimes i just punch plankton --Klinotaxis
i get so angry sometimes i just punch plankton --Klinotaxis
i get so angry sometimes i just punch plankton --Klinotaxis
Did have a Furby, though. If you put it by another one, they'd start plotting with each other.
...
Yeah.
i get so angry sometimes i just punch plankton --Klinotaxis
Te other one though...I mean, that's the sort of thing that haunts you in the night.
Like you wake up late, and you need to use the restroom, and you walk out into the hall and step on something that slips out from under you.
You hit the ground hard and get dizzy, as your vision clears you see that phone with it's sunken, dead eyes and painted grin.
The phone rings, but not a regular ringing. Like a bike bell that's bent out of shape. In your daze you answer it. You hear the sound of muffled screaming and a voice whispers like nails on a chalk-board with the whine of a loose belt on a car behind it, "See you soon."
Your head clears and it's just a phone, and, head throbbing, you pick yourself up and use the bathroom. You make it back to bed and toss try to look at that phone again, but it's not there. Confused, you walk into the bedroom. The phone is on your nightstand. Startled, you put the phone under the nightstand. You eventully fall into a troubled sleep.
You wake up. The phone is gone. You step out into the hall, but it is not there. You almost dismiss it all as a dream where it not for the bump on your head.
You get ready for the day and go to work. Another regular, boring car drive, except...
What's that in the review mirror? Is the phone in the backseat?
You look behind you. Nothing there. The seat is empty.
You look forward and slam the breaks. Your tires screech as your car narrowly avoids smashing into the back of another.
You breath a sigh of relief and wipe the sweat that's forming from your forehead, but as you do, you think you see the phone inside the car in front of you.
You look again, just another commuter on their way to work.
You make it to your job. A first few hours are incidental, but then the phone rings. It's not the regular phone ring, no it sounds like a bent out of shape bike bell and you look down and it's the phone and you yelp and swat it off your desk.
You grab your coat and leave towards the exit. Your manager stops you and asks "What's wrong"? He just tried to call you but he herd your cry from his office. You mumble something about not feeling well and he asks if he can just have a quick talk about some project before he lets you go and get some rest.
The permission of being able to leave comforts you a bit as you head to his office. You start discussing how the project is going and then his phone rings. A ring that all the phones in the building make. He syas "I've got to take this, really quick" and you nod and as he reaches down the tone of the ring changes.
You think it sounds like a broken bicycle bell. You look away to clear your head and when you look back, your boss is no longer on a work phone, but a red one with a yellow string leading into a white box on wheels that has stars and a smile painted on it and cold, dead eyes that stare back up at you.
Your boss nods as he talks on the phone and says "Yeah, they're here." He looks at you and hands the receiver and says it's for you.
You think that this is impossible, that this can't be happening, but you pick up the receiver and choke out a "Hello?" That same muffled screaming, that same wispy, scratchy voice with the faint wine of rubber stretched too thin on a wheel says "See you soon."
You scream and throw down the receiver. You rush out of the building and into your car.
You drive home towards home in frenzy, you’re driving fast and reckless, but you just need to get home.
A phone rings, but it’s the sounds of that bell again. Worse, it’s coming from inside your car. You look behind you…no not there, but closer. Like it’s inside your clothes…
You check your coat pockets and grab your cell phone. It’s what is ringing with the sound of that bent bicycle bell.
You roll down the window and throw it out. In your review window you see a car swerve slightly to avoid the phone, and then speed up on your driver side.
The woman in the car is irate, and honking, she screams at you about throwing the phone, but the honking is starting to sound more like a bell, and the woman is starting to smile, a big red smile, and her eyes…
You push the pedal down drive as fast as you can home.
You make it inside and check the hall, and under the nightstand, under the bed, every room. Nothing. The phone is not there.
The phone rings. It’s your land-line. You approach it but you dare not answer it, instead, you rip the phone cord from the wall. The ringing stops.
You sigh, and the ringing starts again, but it’s not the normal ring. It’s that bell.
You grab your phone and throw it on the ground and begin to stomp it.
As you do the pieces seem to turn white or random bright pastel colors, the smashed receiver pieces turn red. The phone cord is not a cord anymore but a yellow string.
You gather the pieces and throw them into a garbage bag and throw it all into the garbage under the kitchen sink.
It’s quiet. You feel it’s the first it’s been quiet all day.
The phone rings. And then another joins it, and another, and another. A chorus of bicycle bells ringing their bent tune. You fetch the garbage open the sack and it’s full of red receivers, wheels, colorful stars, painted smiles, and dead eyes.
You grab a knife. There’s got to be one place where there is no ringing, ONE place.
You put the knife to your throat.
You wake up. Dizzy at first, your eyes adjust and it looks like your hallway.
You sigh, and then hear screaming, and then the smell hits you. The smell of burning flesh.
You turn and start to see the flames and pits as far as the eyes can see and a throne. A throne made from bone and covered with the flesh of faces in twisted screams. Hands, severed from their bodies, try to cover where the ears would be.
On this throne you expect to see a red figure with goat horns and maybe a pitchfork.
But he’s not there.
There’s just a toy phone. White, on wheels, with little colorful stars painted on it. It has a big red painted smile, and cold, dead, sunken eyes.
The phone rings.