College Pop Culture

I have a little anecdote for you. Once there was a six-year-old girl who desperately wanted the cute, new toy that all of her friends were raving about. It could move its ears, blink its eyes, and even speak a mixture of its language and English (quaintly termed Furbish)! Everything about it screamed awesome. Imagine her excitement come Christmas morning when she unwrapped a brand new grey Furby. Hint: that girl was me. 

 

I removed it from its box and feverishly read through the instruction manual, learning the voice commands and different ways to make my little grey Furby come to life. Little did I know that I would immediately regret that decision. 

 

A few weeks later after the novelty had worn off, my Furby started to look a little less endearing and a little freakier, staring at me from my dresser all day and night. And then it became possessed. Not by a demon (probably, though I’m not ruling that out) but something definitely went terribly wrong. He would wake up randomly in the night, making yawning noises and blinking his beady little eyes. Some days he would talk on his own, requesting to play games of hide and seek, and randomly wiggling his ears and spastically blinking his freaky little eyes. You know those kids you used to make fun of for crying when the animatronic band would spring to life at Chuck E Cheese’s? Yeah, well, I now totally get their distress. 

 

Eventually, I had had it. Rather than taking the logical route of removing the batteries, I chucked it against my bedroom wall, ending its reign of terror. I think that (over) reaction was the perfect combination of melodrama and originality and I’m not even a little bit ashamed of it.

Seriously though, here’s hoping they’ve fixed whatever bug that was so more children aren’t scarred for (at least part of) their lives by those little robotic fur-balls randomly springing to life when they don’t expect them to in the future.