“When I was a kid and we were on vacation, I somehow won a shitload of tickets at an arcade, and I used them to get a Chucky doll.
I guess even at a young age, I appreciated that someone would make a doll that looks like a killer doll, of pretty similar size. Although I DISLIKED that on the front of his overalls, it said “Child’s Play.” That killed some of the illusion for me, you know? Why do you need to do that? Wouldn’t anyone who picked this thing up know what’s going on here?
Anyway, I flew home with it in a bag that was checked, and it was while we were on the plane that I was like, “Holy shit, what if Chucky, MY Chucky, comes to life down there and brings this plane down?”
It was a terrifying flight, and once we got home, I decided Chucky had to be contained. So I zipped him up in a backpack and threw him in the closet. His long red hair got caught in the zipper, which freaked me out because I knew he’d be pissed.
After a few weeks of checking to make sure he was exactly where I’d left him, I decided he needed to go. I ran him out to the garbage can on garbage day and threw him in right before the garbage truck got there, and I sat and watched to make sure he didn’t get away, or that a garbageman didn’t pick him up and be like, “Hey, perfectly good doll!” like they would in the movies.
I had a very terrifying experience with Chucky. Whoever made that doll should be proud.”