Look at those cute overalls and look at that adorable smile! Sing along in your head to the ad song. “My Buddy. My Buddy. Wherever I go, he goes. My Buddy. My Buddy. I’ll teach him everything that I know. My Buddy and me. Like to climb up a tree. My Buddy and me. We’re the best friends that could be. My Buddy. My Buddy. My Buddy and Me!”
Nothing alarming here!
Mom’s across the country tried to convince themselves that he was not a doll. But really, it was totally a doll.
With that being said it was only a matter of time before people started to talk about the My Buddy being creepy. I imagine that older siblings would move the doll around the house. Maybe, even trying to scare people.
Not that this ever happened in my house, of course. *Cough. Cough. Clear throat.*
A few years later, a new movie about a doll named Chucky came out. Not that creepy dolls are a new idea in horror movies, but with each new generation there are new minds to twist.
I completely freaked out when I saw Chucky …
It had been a few years since I had been around a My Buddy but in my mind, sitting there at the movies, Chucky was a My Buddy. I wondered how they could have gotten away with doing the movie with the My Buddy.
Back then there was no Google Images to compare the two dolls. But with today’s technology we can compare easily.
I mean look at the two dolls next to each other …
They are both wearing a little blue hat, overalls, and striped shirts. They inverted the color of the overalls and shoes from My Buddy’s red and blue to Chucky’s blue and red.
But … I mean, come on!
I’m pretty sure that this is what happens to My Buddy after dark. It is a bit unnerving to think of the possibility. I’m pretty sure that anyone who owns a Chucky will wake up with it looking at you, like, you are his next victim.
The trauma that could have ensued to our kid makes me think that taking this doll back to the store could be a brilliant idea.
Final say. My Buddy doll, kind of creepy, but okay, I guess.
Chucky doll? Hell to the N to the O, take that shit back.
