Another Crazy Movie

I fell asleep last night with the television on, and when I woke up at 4am, I was captivated by the movie on the screen. I pressed "Info" on my remote and saw that this film was called "Retro Puppet Master," and here is the film's description: "It's 1892 and Sutekh is hopping mad. It seems a 3,000 year old Egyptian sorcerer has stolen one of the God's secrets of life - that of instilling the souls of the dying into inanimate things. . . " I put a link to the trailer in, but I do not think the trailer does this creepy film justice.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0189047/trailers-screenplay-E12033-10-2

To me, puppets are the creepiest things in the world. When I was young, I spent the first 8 years of my life sleeping between my mom and dad. I was terrified of sleeping alone in my own room. Finally, my parents insisted (I wonder why) that I sleep in my room. I can clearly remember how scared I was that first night, but I was also determined. A lady in our church, Mrs. Kelleher, had made me a clown made out of yarn. Some of you may remember them - they had twisty, long yarn arms and a styrofoam head with shaky eyes and a big red mouth. The one in the picture above is pink, and mine was red and instead of hair, he had one of those pointy dunce caps on its head, but it is a fairly accurate representation of what my clown looked like. Mrs. Kelleher also made ducks out of Clorox bottles, but that is another story. My mother hung the clown in the corner of my room "to keep me company." Nice gesture, but clowns are about as freaky as puppets. As I lay in my bed, with my eyes closed, I swear I heard the sound of a knife whizzing by my head and when I jerked opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was that damn clown hanging in the corner, grinning at me; his red lips looking as if they were covered in my blood. I grabbed my throat and made sure that I had not been stabbed, and when I felt no injury, I got up and grabbed the clown and threw him outside of my room.

I made it through the night, and the next morning I could not stop talking about how proud I was of myself. My brother Robbie looked at me across the breakfast table, with his smelly and disgusting mixture of grits and eggs on his plate and said, "I wish you would shut up." I did shut up, and I remember the way it felt to have my proud moment ruined by my brother's harsh words.