Those readers who feel that their lives are lacking a little excitement may well be interested in snapping up a possessed Stitch teddy bear which has terrorised a Canadian family to the point that they are now compelled to take the only course of action left to them - offload the voodoo devil cuddly toy on eBay before it decapitates the entire clan in an blood-splattered slashfest of mindless, knife-driven violence.
If you think we're exaggerating here, think again. Since buying the apparently innocent toy in Florida, the unnamed vendors have been subjected to a litany of horror so spine-chilling that those of a nervous disposition are advised to quaff a stiff brandy before continuing. Here are the edited highlights:
Last summer, my fiance & I were visiting her family in Florida, and taking a stop in Disneyworld. As big fans of the Lilo & Stitch movies, we were interested in buying some Stitch toys. We ended up getting quite a few, of all shapes & sizes. We have had no problem with any of them - they're all regular friggin teddy bears. One, however, has been a problem since day one. That was the one we picked up on our way from Orlando to Daytona Beach.
We stopped at a little out of the way place while looking for a restaurant. This place was small, and kind of dingy, but they had food, and a 'gift shop', if you could call it that. I wish I could remember what it was called, but the only thing that seems to ring a bell is 'Leary'. Anyway, they had another Stitch toy there, which looked just as good as any we had picked up in Disneyworld, and was a quarter of the price. The person behind the till seemed a little too pleased to be making the sale, and now I can see why.
We displayed the toys on our TV stand, with some other stuffed animals my fiance has collected over the years. Nothing has ever moved them, except for when cleaning & dusting, and then they are promptly put back in place. After the new Stitch toys were put up, about once a week, we would find one or two of the other stuffed animals on the floor... This became a semi-regular occurance until early November, when we awoke to a loud slam in the middle of the night. I got my fiance to stay upstairs, and crept down to see what was happening... I turned the light on at the front door, and saw that the items on the floor were actually all of the stuffed animals, and other Stitch toys. The only thing left on our TV stand was the Stitch we had picked up from that store. That would have been enough, but the top of the TV was cracked as well - it looked as though something heavy had been dropped onto it.
At this point, I knew that there was something wrong with this 'toy', so right then & there I threw it in the garbage... and went back up to bed to explain to my fiance why that Stitch would not be on the shelf when she got up in the morning. Since I didn't want to scare her, I told her it got ripped open when it fell off the shelf, and I had to throw it away, as it looked too bad to repair. Sleep was hard to come by that night.
The next day I got up early, emptied the garbage, and threw it in the dumpster in the parking lot before leaving for work. Problem solved. Or so I thought...
To cut to the chase here, every time the terrified owners tried to dispose of the Stitch devil toy, it reappeared in the house as if nothing had happened. Attempts to bury it in a landfill site on the other side of the city, burn the monster with lighter fuel, dismember it or offload the emissary of Satan at a local pawn store proved fruitless - on each occassion it turned up again, good as new, atop the TV stand.
Finally, the vendor decided to incapacitate the beast by pinning it under the TV (see photo of restrained Devil toy) and turning to the only hope of salvation. No, not the Catholic church, but rather the world's favourite auction site.
Now call us old-fashioned if you must, but surely the time-honoured tradition for offloading cursed items is to pass them to the next victim without his or her knowledge. Those unfamiliar with the concept are directed to 1957 Brit horror classic Night of the Demon, wherein the passing of a demonic paper results in a very nasty end for one promising B-movie career.
Indeed, our eBayers in this case do not do themselves many favours with their caveat emptor section:
Please, if you have children or pets, think twice before bidding. This is not a 'toy' for a child. I can not say with any assurance that you will have the same experiences as us, but there is a strong likelyhood that you will see what I mean, and I do not want to feel any guilt for harm coming to a child or an animal.
We also cannot guarantee that the item will stay with you after you have received it. If it stays as persistent as it has previously, it may try to get back to us. I will not be putting a return address on the package, as if when you realize that the item is evil, as I'm sure you will, I do not want you sending it back to us. It will become your responsibility as soon as it enters your possession.
The winnning bidder should, though, rest assured that it will not leap out of the box on arrival and get stuck straight into the kids with a chainsaw:
The buyer is to pay for shipping, in whatever form they would like. I can dismember the item before shipping as well, if you would feel safer that way, but I can not guarantee it will arrive in this form. If you would like the toy shipped without being cut up, I will attempt to immobilize it with either duct tape, or rope, or a combination of the two. It is your choice.
And there you have it. Unsurprisingly, the possessed Stitch teddy is currently standing at a modest $137.50 with four days left to run. Time for Golden Palace Casino to intervene, we feel. ®