Okay, I never thought I’d be doing this, but for you, Internet, I will go the distance. Personal sacrifices must sometimes be made for the greater good. That’s right, sacrifice.
I’m not usually prone to fear for many things. I’ll hug snake, pet a spider, run around in a tornado, play with fire and so on and so forth. But some things are far more diabolical, far eviler than the human mind can comprehend (more specifically, mine). So, without further ado, I give you:
Top Five of my Personal Fears (with pictures)
Let’s start off with a normal fear. And nothing is more normal than being afraid of little black and yellow flying insects with personal vendettas against the human race. Bees? Bees are ok. You don’t bug them, they don’t bug you. It’s a beautiful natural coexistence between fuzzy flying lancer and squishy hairless ape. But these guys:
Ugh. I’m shivering right now as it is. I will quite literally walk 30 feet around a group of wasps (or even 1, who am I kidding here) in order to avoid their malevolence. Not only do these guys attack without reason, they keep going. Bees sting you once, and they die. You have time and natural selection on your side, and more importantly, hope. But wasps just keep biting and stinging until all that’s left of you is a pathetic shell of a human being curled up on the sidewalk, blabbering and crying like an idiot.
Okay, I can’t take this, on to the next one.
Oh. Oh God. Just… make it stop. Those dull, lifeless eyes that drill into the darkest corners of your soul. The stiff posture of discipline that threatens to beat you down into a pulp with its tiny wooden sword. The upturned mustache that both taunts and mocks you like a half-breed demon’s smile. Not to mention the gritted teeth just waiting to tear your life to pieces with a massively disproportional mouth. Everything about this “doll” is wrong. Everything.
It’s an annual tradition on Christmas for me to get THIS close to buying tickets to the Nutcracker ballet; then bailing out like the wimp I am once I see the advertising posters.
Okay, even you, the average person, must admit that clowns are downright scary. To this day I refuse to go to the circus because these guys are always there, roving around the audience. They’re always smiling, always laughing, always wearing ridiculous outfits that don’t belong on the streets and dancing out of rhythm to some cacophonous melody in their head. You know who else does that?
The socially unacceptable. The mentally broken, twisted, pathologic criminals that have no empathy, no fear, no understanding of right and wrong. They paint on smiles and put make up all over their entire face to cover up the fact that they’re merely robots with flesh. Cold, unfeeling, Terminator-esque robots that laugh at people’s misery while squirting burning water out of flowers into our eyes.
Why in the world are we letting these monstrosities near our children? In packs?
4. Dolls that move on their own
Have you ever ridden the attraction at Disney Land where you take a nice relaxing boat ride “around the world”? There are dolls dressed in clothes distinct to different lands, cute little dance routines their simple animatronic bodies perform and colorful backdrops full of culturally distinguishable landmarks and architecture. It’s not the best ride in the world, and truthfully there are only so many times you can listen to “It’s a small world after all” before you lose your mind, but overall it’s not that bad. At least you’re out of the California heat.
What was once mildly entertaining is now thrown into the chaos of hell. Your boat steers to a halt, and for a moment you gratefully notice that the blasted music has stopped. Immediately after, you realize with a sinking heart that the dolls are still moving. They continue to dance on their multi-colored stages, bopping up and down and waving around their little arms and blinking. Sweet mother of pearl, the blinking. Staring. Watching. Waiting.
Madness. Utter madness. The only sounds you hear beyond your pounding heart and rapid breathing are the clicking and whirring of their accursed parts… until you begin to scream and your 5 year old cousin has to calm you down.
5. Dolls that stare, in general