Okay, so, some of you may remember Furbys. They were cute little bird/mammal... things... with no arms. There had been a copyright issue with the original design looking like Gizmo from Gremlins, but apparently that's all been sorted out, as there seems to be an official Gizmo Furby these days.
Now, the Furbys I'm going to speak to you about are not the ones of today.
The ones of today are even worse.
The ones of today can walk forward, smile and frown, and are at least twice the size of the old ones.
The ones of today could fuck up your day pretty easily if they ever became sentient and wanted to kill us all.
No no. I'm talking about the ones that came out when people still marveled at the idea that your toy effectively did not need you, and could play just fine without you.
I don't remember asking for a Furby. I remember asking for other stuff, like when I was even younger, asking for a Barbie movie theater and a Barbie motorcycle. I remember asking for a lot of things, and in all honesty, I remember getting most of them.
I was not particularly tantrum happy as a kid. If anything, I am more so now. If I don't get my way, I throw a fit until I somehow manage to get whatever stupid thing it is.
As a kid, I didn't care so much. ...about anything, really.
So, I don't remember having any want for a Furby, beyond in passing thinking they were kind of cute. I saw friends of mine frantic and screaming for one. It just didn't seem to be worth the effort.
I wanted a toy I could put in a box and not feel guilty later. A toy that couldn't tell me when it was hungry, because toys don't actually need food. A toy that I wouldn't need to talk to... because that's just very sad. (And a bit scary) I personify objects as an adult enough as it is. In some ways, that may be the Furby's fault.
Like that episode of Twilight Zone with Talking Tina.
And yet, I got a Furby.
In fact, I got two.
One of them was completely white, like a gumdrop and a marshmallow had some horrible sex experiment go wrong and produced this atrocity we called a child's plaything.
The other was a Halloween edition, which was awesome to me. It was black and orange and sported a witch hat.
Neither of them work anymore, but that second one never did. It would wake up, say "Bwelo coco" and then snore and go back to sleep. Narcoleptic Furby. Great. I figured it was a special Halloween one, so maybe it just woke up on Halloween?
...Nope.
The white one used to work just fine, but it still... wasn't... right.
My friends would complain that if they were changing in my bedroom, it would conveniently wake up to say "Bor-ring! Bor-ring! HELLO!" like some infantile construction worker stereotype, checking out a hot babe.
Well, eventually, we got used to the pervert and the sleeper.
Then one day, the white one started making scary noises. I'm not talking about the Furbish or random English phrases. No. I mean it started making horrible demonic sounds.
Well, I figured the battery was dying, so I opened it up to take out said battery.
I did not realize that these things had backup memory.
It's logical. I mean, that way you don't lose any... progress? ...as you... teach it... things.
Anyhoo, when I took the battery out, it's backup memory kicked in and it started talking normally.
In my early teen brain, all I understood was that this thing had been talking demonically, I took out it's batteries, and understanding that I was onto it, it started talking normally as if to prove that it was okay and that I should let my guard down again so it can eat my soul and oogle my friends.
So I repeatedly bashed it's damn head into the kitchen table until it stopped talking.
I still have them. They live in storage, forever silent. Perhaps one day, the sleeping one will awaken.
...The white one better not.
All I gotta say.
EDIT: Apparently the demonic Furby/talking without the batteries and scaring children thing happened a lot. A couple of my friends have read this and told me so.
...Is that in the instruction booklet?
