The Day I Tore Up My Lifetime Mickey Mouse Club Membership

The absolute most bloodcurdling, spine-tingling incident to transpire in our house came via the seemingly innocent and familiar face of this Talking Mickey Mouse doll manufactured by Worlds Of Wonder. Remember Worlds Of Wonder in the 80's, the makers of Teddy Ruxpin? "Come on boys and girls, sing along now." This Mickey Mouse had the same prototype features as Teddy with a mechanical mouth that moved along with the storytime cassette placed in the back, eyes that rolled to and fro like a Felix the Cat clock, and Mickey's trademarked voice. We all found the "Disco Mickey Mouse" incarnation of the 70's a little unnerving, but courtesy of Talking Mickey Mouse, they now call me the anti-Mouseketeer. I wear my red beanie cap with the ears turned upside down!

My brother, Brendon, largely ignored the expensive Christmas toy, and though the doll would just appear in various places throughout the house, we never took much notice of it. My Great-Grandmother died of Alzheimer's complications in the game room of our home after we set it up for her Hospice care. After her passing, the creepiness level intensified.

One sunshiney day, I came home from school to find the house empty, without any notes detailing chores. I love that! So, I prepared to spend the afternoon plopped down on my arse watching the forbidden wonders of MTV, and drinking Coke in the living room despite my Mom frowning upon such behaviour. The ever present Talking Mickey Mouse had found its way to the sofa end table. Immersed in the television, I didn't notice anything peculiar until I got up to make a foray to the kitchen. When I strolled back out of the kitchen, I had to pass the end table, and that's when something caught my eye. The dormant doll had sprung to life without any prompting or button pushing. Frighteningly, at that very moment, its eyes transfixed upon me, and it started mouthing incoherent things. I shrugged my startled nervousness aside and moved in closer to shut it off. The oval eyes began shifting back and forth, and it continued mumbling things in a low voice that I couldn't understand, so I assumed the batteries must be losing charge. I picked it up and turned it over to switch it off, only to discover that there wasn't a cassette tape placed in the back of the doll. I thought it seemed odd that it kept rambling on without any cassette in it, but chalked it up to a cross circuited internal glitch. I looked for the power toggle, when the realization hit me that I was staring down into a completely barren battery compartment. My brother had long since broken the plastic battery cover, and I could see directly into the well where the batteries should have been.

I shrieked, and threw the possessed doll across the room, and then did the stupidest thing ever........I ran upstairs and locked the door to my room. Yes, if I'm ever cast in a horror movie, I'll be the first to die, because everybody knows that the biggest mistake is to go upstairs. I eyed the window that led out onto the roof, and decided that if Mickey Mouse ascended the staircase, I would jump to safety. I sat there, too scared to move for nearly an hour, my poor heart about to burst, and listening for the telltale movements of a wicked talking doll crawling its way to me. I instantly felt sorry for ever watching the movie, "Child's Play" that involved Chuckie the killer doll, because it brought about all sorts of ghastly scenarios to my mind.

My Mom made it home, and only then did I feel safe to come downstairs and see the wretched doll, not crumpled in a corner like it should have been, but sitting upright on the end table as though nothing happened. I frantically told my Mom everything, half expecting for her to tease my "all knowing" teenage self, but she didn't. Instead, she told me that the Mickey Mouse doll had done the same thing to her in the next room, where my Great-Grandmother died. She too, noticed the empty battery pack, and missing tape, but attributed it to nerves and depression since losing my Grandma. My stepdad called her "LOCO" when she told him about it, so she decided that her mind must have deceived her.

Eager to rid ourselves of M-I-C-K-E-Y, my Mom elected to send it up with Brendon to his paternal grandparents home out in the country since he spent a considerable amount of time up there. Largely forgotten, years passed by, and my Mom ventured upstairs at the country home. There, at the top of the landing sat the Mickey Mouse doll. My Mom walked by it to retrieve something from the room, when the familiar started up.......Talking Mickey Mouse began his low voiced mumble anew, scaring my Mom, and prompting her to scream with terror. When investigated later by my stepdad, it was once again revealed that the doll remained without any batteries.