furby

Furby Hunters

furby hunters logo final 2 (small)

Like a dark harbinger of doom, the Furby menace stands at humanity’s door, ready to destroy our world and devour our very souls. Foolishly, I had thought their kind rendered powerless after their toy fad wore off, but after their triumphant return, I can remain silent no longer. We face two choices: either succumb to the sinister fuzziness and become the furbies’ zombified slaves or stand and fight.

Friends, now is the time to join the Furby Hunters.

The black magic of the Furby is great, but my studies have led me to believe that they are not invincible. As we did with the vampires, werewolves, and hippies of old, we can fend off the furbies with the proper tools and knowledge.

Pledge your sword to the Furby Hunters, comrades. Our cause is noble, our hearts are pure, and our logo took me a good six hours in Microsoft Paint to design.

In the coming months, this site will be the staging ground for our war against furbykind. I’ll still be writing about beards and chicken fries and cybernetic llamas, lest the furbies discover the site’s true purpose and destroy it with their dark powers. But check back often, friends, for I’ll be disclosing more details on humanity’s war against the accursed Furby race.

The first step to becoming an effective furby hunter is to gird yourself with the proper equipment. If it catches you unprepared, a furby will not hesitate to incinerate your flesh and inappropriately harass your soul. To survive against the satanic spawn of Hasbro, you must employ the following equipment and strategy:

• Like vampires and ACLU attorneys, furbies can be repulsed by the sign of the cross. The Furby’s squishy claws, furry body, and voice like a castrated Kermit the Frog are an affront to God and all that is wholesome and good. As such, a cross will cause furbies to hiss and retreat back into shadows.
• Many ancient creatures of evil are repelled by garlic, due to its purifying properties. Similarly, because it is a nutritious alternative to other sandwich spreads, Nutella can be used to keep furbies at bay. I recommend slathering yourself with a liberal coat of Nutella and making sure you have a generous supply stored in every possible orifice.
• The only way to kill a furby is by impaling its battery casing with a stake made from hardened buffalo mucus. The majestic buffalo has been the enemy of the Furby ever since the two races competed in the fearsome Texas Hold-‘Em tournaments of ancient Babylonia.
• Like sunlight to the Vampire is the sight of a mullet to the Furby. The holiest of hairstyles, a swaying mullet causes furbies a searing pain and prolonged exposure can burn off their fur. Your mullet will be most effective if you whip it around sensually like you’re in a women’s shampoo commercial.
• Because some breeds of Furby are capable of flight, a pogo stick may be in order.
• Even the sinister furby is not immune to the power of music. The melodic sounds of Louis Armstrong will immediately cause even the most savage furby to cease its attack and break into dance.
• Because they savor the terror-stricken expressions on their victim’s faces, furbies will almost never attack a foe from behind. They are also hesitant to attack anyone wearing fuzzy garments, as they feel a kinship with all things furry. This makes the snuggie the ultimate in anti-furby armor.
• Over the millennia, the furbies have made many enemies. One of these was Carmen Miranda, whose erratic dance moves confused and angered the furbies. As such, a tasteful arrangement of fruit will protect your head far better than any helmet.
• For some reason beyond even my comprehension, the most effective battle cry to use against furbies is “sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don’t.”
• Because the Furby’s diet consists mainly of orphans, speaking in a cockney, Oliver Twist-esque accent is a good way to attract and entrap furbies.
• Adult diapers. They don’t have any special effect on furbies, but hey, when you’re facing an army of demonic ‘90s toys, you can’t expect to be in complete control of your body.
• The Furby, at its core, is a toy fad of the 1990s. This is a great strength, but also a weakness, as other ‘90s fads can used against them. So gather your pogs, dunkaroos, and Pokémon cards, friends, and dust off that Ninja Turtles tee shirt.

Granted, running around in a snuggle with a fruit hat and Nutella leaking from your body cavities won’t exactly impress the ladies, but if we’re going to save the human race, sacrifices must be made. Until our next discussion of the Furby menace, may your pogs fly true and may Louis Armstrong bless your buffalo snot.

Return of the Fuzzy Darkness

One of the many great lessons learned by mankind is this: in its re-emergence, evil is often far more threatening in than in its first incarnation. We thought we had defeated the Germans after World War I, the end-all be-all of warfare. Then came World War II. The people of Russia thought they had brought injustice to an end after they overthrew the Czar. Then came the Soviets. And now there is a darkness, one we’ve seen before, that has taken on a more powerful form and threatens all of existence.

I thought I had seen the last of the Furbys.

The Furby, for those of you unaware, was a dark fusion of bird and mammal with a voice like that of a sinister Mr. Rogers and eyes like a thousand screaming, tortured souls. Wielding a powerful black magic, the Furby, at the height of its power, nearly ground all of humanity under its fuzzy heel.

The foolish children of the 1990s purchased furbies in large numbers, allowing them to spread their dark cult across the face of the whole Earth. Fortunately, the fad died out and the hellish idols were left to gather dust in America’s closets, their age of darkness at last brought to a close.

I thought it was over. I held on to the hope that mankind had banished whatever foul spirits had inhabited the creatures and could at last live in peace. But I fear that, like evil, pain, and death, Furby domination may be inevitable.

Earlier this year, I was taking an innocent scroll through my Facebook news feed when I saw that a friend had posted this on my wall:

furby boom 2

“Furby Boom.” They’re back, ladies and gentlemen. And they’re more frightening than ever.

In addition to resurrecting the sick creatures, the poor fools at Hasbro actually expanded their power. With the aid of an app akin to the Necronomicon, the furbies can now interact with your smart phones, tablet computers, and other pieces of technology. That’s right: all of our communications—our phones, our computers, the Internet—all will succumb to the will of the Furby.

How did this happen?! What brain-dead ad executive actually said to themselves, “You know what’d look great on kids’ smart phones? Satan!”

You heard it here first; the future is indeed here, and the future is Furby. In a few years, I suspect we’ll be living in a world that resembles those of The Terminator, Mordor, 1984, and My Little Pony fused together into a land where the air reeks of cuteness and death.

Oh, but that’s not all. Feast your eyes on the next generation of dark dieties:

furbling
http://www.toysrus.com/buy/interactive-stuffed-toys/furby-furbling-creature-polka-dots-a6100-30181246

This is a “furbling.” Yes. They’re reproducing. Not only have the immortal furbies resurfaced, they’ve multiplied. There is no doubt in my mind: the furbies’ will continue to procreate until their demon spawn overrun the Earth and devour all who resist their iron-fisted rule.

Malevolent forces greater than any mankind has ever faced surround us, ready to devour our very souls. But do not despair just yet. I have long prepared for this day.

My studies in Furby lore have shown me the beasts’ weaknesses, and I plan to share my knowledge with any who will listen. After cowering in fear of the Furby’s return for over a decade, it is at last time to stand and fight.

Grab your crosses and garlic, friend, and check back next week.

Furby: Dark god of the Nineties

Furby

Ancient cultures seemed to have a thing for animal hybrids. Among the gods worshipped by ancient civilizations are such varied deities as Thor, Dagon, and Kali, who was blue, had six arms, and carried severed heads everywhere. But whatever its pantheon, each ancient culture seems to have at least one god that looks like a fusion of two animals. The ancient Indians worshipped Ganesh, the elephant-human god. The Egyptians of ancient times worshipped Ra, who was half-falcon and half-man. And the children of 1990s America worshipped Furby, the grotesque, hairy bird creature.

For those of you lucky souls unfamiliar with it, the Furby was a toy fad during the nineties. It was a robotic, talking bird creature with soft, deceiving fur covering its cold plastic shell and huge eyes that stared deep into your soul. If provoked, it would move its mouth and say cute phrases like “I love you” or “Can I have a hug?”

It sounds innocent enough, I know. But for anyone who housed a furby, the bizarre toy slowly morphed from harmless plaything to feared idol.

The big problem with furbies was that you had no control over them whatsoever. For the most part, you expect toys to respond directly to your input; if you push forward on the remote’s lever, your RC car moves forward. But furbies moved and spoke in response to noise. So whenever it heard any sound, whether it was little Billy playing pretend or mom bumping into the table, the furby would feel the need to chime in by saying “I love sunshine” or “Who dares to profane my holy sanctum?”

Furbies had no off switch. They only “went to sleep” when they detected absolutely no noise. You were never sure whether your furby was watching or listening to you. For all you knew, the Great Furby was all-seeing, all-knowing.

The only reliable way to get a furby to shut off was to lock it inside a dark room. It would shut down and all would be well…until someone decided to enter the room. The first thing you’d see after you opened the door and turned on the light switch was a pair of huge, hellish eyes staring back at you. And then, in a voice that reminded you of Big Bird, the furby would speak. It may have said “good morning,” but you knew it meant “Foolish mortal! You cannot escape my judgment! Now bow before me, lest I consume thee with holy fire!”

And so the people of the ‘90s lived in fear of their dark god, the Furby. I know many who would try in vain to appease their furby by buying more furbies, performing ritualistic Furby dances while wearing their fur-covered robes, and even sacrificing Tickle Me Elmo dolls on altars made of play-doh. As a Furby heretic, I lived in constant fear. I’ll never forget the sting of terror that would run up my spine every time I heard a furby’s evil bellow.

Times have changed and, at long last, the reign of the Furby is over. Gone are the days of the Furby cult, but remnants of its power remain. If you look hard enough, you can still find furbies buried in basements and tucked away in closets, gathering dust and remembering their bygone days of glory. And though their followers now are few, their eyes are no less mesmerizingly-evil.