Every toy has a destiny. And as they sit displayed in their respective retail locations waiting to be sold, no one knows in whose hands or what household they’ll end up in. But the point is that they end up somewhere. Maybe they’ll get bought by one of those kids that seem to own toys without any intention of actually playing with them, and they're merely become trophies that illustrate the absolute control they exhibit over the personal servants they call “parents.” They could end up being purchased by one of those people that sell toys at comic-book conventions, vendors that think it’s perfectly acceptable to charge $100 for an Optimus Prime with an arm missing (but he comes with all of his original stickers!!). It’s even possible that some toys will get picked up by some creepy member of NAMBLA looking for a way to break the ice when meeting a prospective boy-toy. Sometimes however toys experience a much, much more abysmal destiny; they can end up a part of a terrible toy-box ghost-town, ominously known as the “Toy Graveyard”.

Many of my old toys are still around with some even experiencing a nice retirement peacefully tucked away in boxed communities complete with original accessories, file cards, and stickers. There are some toys however that weren’t so fortunate, and were victims of various wraths. Some of my old toys were simply forgotten, harshly ignored due to their lackluster qualities, smashed, blown-up, cut, lost in the snow, broken, microwaved, busted, chewed, disassembled, thrown into a tree, burnt for the sake of appeasing my disturbed imagination or pure boredom, and sometimes subjected to a mass toy genocide organized and carried-out by an evil dictator (my mother) who decided that certain toys didn’t fit her criteria for a clean and well-kept home environment. But in spite of this cruelty, a few of these tortured toys managed to survive, barely. In a dark, cold closet inside my parent’s house, and among a disco record collection and winter coats that haven’t been worn since the late 70’s, there sits a white plastic bucket that doubles as a disgraceful coffin. Inside it are objects that were once brand new and optimistic, even if only temporarily, that have been warped into ghostly fragments of their former toy goodness; their twisted fate has forced them to forever haunt a terrible Toy Hell only to be remembered for the moments they suffered.

It’s been a long time since I’ve visited my Toy Graveyard, because let’s face it – it’s just a bunch of shabby, broken old toys thrown into an equally shabby container. Included with each old toy however is a story: a tale of toys forgotten and the days of my indifferent youth. But these are stories that I have neglected to relive for sometime, and in that neglect, along with the possibility that my mom has further perpetrated her genocide campaign, I have no idea what remains buried deep in the Graveyard. So I invite you now to join me as I return to the Toy Graveyard and begin my archeological dig into the ruins of an ancient and tarnished toy civilization. And as a special bonus, our journey will be watched over by Mortimer Rabbit, the harbinger of toy-death (well-known for wielding daisies, the mythological symbol of impending toy-doom) and ruler of the cursed underworld were all dead toys dwell.

However, Mortimer is reluctant to allow complete strangers total access to the twisted and terrible sights of his cursed realm, so listed below are just a select few of his tortured subjects. Let’s start the insanity:

U-haul Transformer-Wannabe Truck

Anytime you see a U-haul truck driving down the road the first thing you probably think is, “hey… it’s a U-haul truck. Somebody must be moving.” But I bet you never once thought, “hey…it’s a U-haul truck. IT MUST BE PREPARING TO TRAVEL INTO THE FAR REACHES OF SPACE ON A SPECIAL NASA-ORGANIZED INTERPLANETARY MOVING MISSION!!” Enter the U-haul “moving truck-to-space shuttle” Transforming vehicle, which is either A: one of the most obscurely dumb toys any child could own (which might explain why it’s in the Graveyard), or B: a revolutionary concept that predicts the future of space colonization and the utilization of special moving units for relocating people’s belongings from earth to somewhere up in space. As a matter of fact I’ve already devised a pretty nifty ad campaign for such an occurrence:

Before I get ahead of myself and make this toy look cooler than it really is, I’m going to argue that this “space-shuttle-in-disguise” actually falls more into category A rather than B for one simple reason: it’s a U-haul truck toy. No matter how hard you try to spiff it up it’s still just a U-haul truck. Compared to say, oh, a real Transformer, this toy is definitely on the lowest tier of transformation capable playthings; it’s even lower than those poor-man transformers The Go-bots.

Yes even the Go-bot spin-off “Rock Lords,” robots that transform into rocks, let me repeat that, ROBOTS THAT TRANSFORM INTO ROCKS, are somehow more impressive than a U-haul moving truck/space shuttle. At least with a rock I can throw it at someone or something, and it also turns into a gun wielding robot to boot. What the hell can a kid do with a toy version of a moving truck? A better question might be: what the hell can a kid do with toy version of a moving truck that transforms into space shuttle moving truck? ”Look ma! I’m totally pretending that my lease is up, and I’m moving into a space colony on Mars! Blast off!”

Thus this anomaly has been trapped in the Graveyard ever since I received it, opened it, learned how to transform it, and instantly realized I wanted something else. In fact I don’t remember how I even got a hold of this toy, and I also can’t remember why I never opted to take a hammer to it. I must’ve felt sorry for it and thought being forever abandoned was punishment enough. However, since its rediscovery among my lost and broken toy relics, I have decided to grant mercy to the U-haul transformer and finally give it a very special opportunity while stationed in Toy damnation. With help from the star of ABC’s hit show Extreme Makeover: Home Edition Ty Pennington, and the U-haul moving truck/space shuttle’s personal idol the Transformers Triple Changer Astrotrain, I was able to give this forsaken toy a second chance. Introducing, Extreme Makeover: Transformers Edition.

With Ty Pennington’s pretentious kindness and Astrotrain’s profound yet evil-based knowledge of being able to transform into a space shuttle, the U-haul transformer truck has found an entirely new lease on its worthless life.

Upon adopting the sinister moniker of “U-HELL,” this once pathetic U-haul toy has officially been made-over into an evil Decepticon! And after finding the strength and courage to escape the Toy Graveyard, U-HELL is now happily wreaking havoc all over the galaxy!

Various Dismembered Toy Body Parts

The most disturbing items buried deep in the Graveyard are the various broken body parts of old toys for which I obviously had no real concern. Each part represents general playtime abuse or when my surrounding childhood environment included no parental supervision, a couple of shitty action figures or Happy Meal toys, and a big-ass accessible butcher knife or hammer.

Among these particular pieces are some old Alvin and the Chipmunks figure parts, including the decapitated head and dismembered leg of the “Uncle Harry” character, (who I later found out through a little research was a “con-munk” and lied about being a long lost relative in order to steal money), and the lonely severed leg of Simon, the chipmunk nerd. I actually forgot how often I used to watch this show after school, and based on that old bond I now feel bad that this was the fate of these poor miserable chipmunk toys. At least I feel bad for Simon. Fuck Uncle Harry. There’s nothing more inexcusable than trying to scam anthropomorphic cartoon woodland creatures for your own personal gain, so that asshole deserved to have his head chopped-off.

Also in the part mix are a set of three different decapitated heads; there's the head of a miniature good luck Troll, the head of the Voltron character Haggar the witch, and the severed head of the most famous major fast food chain token black character named after a famous cinematic shark, Burger King Kids Club member Jaws. I have officially made these three toys the wicked trinity representing the fallen toys that occupy the Toy Graveyard. The Good Luck Troll’s head is now the ghost of forgotten fads; Haggar the witch’s head is the ghost of great toys that were mistreated and ultimately turned bad; Jaws doubles as the ghost of disregarded kid’s meal toys and the ghost of corporate attempts to create a diverse group of animated youngsters to advertise kids’ products as well as teach them the importance of social harmony among all classes, but the group is ironically viewed as a negative set of stereotypes and eventually scrapped.

And finally among the dismembered parts is the head of an old Happy Meal toy based off of the television show “Dinosaurs” character Earl Sinclair, the torso of the same Good Luck Troll mentioned earlier, and the severed hand of the minor Thundercats character “The Snowman of Hook Mountain”; if you don’t remember who that is, it’s the ex-hand of this toy:

It turns out that these three parts can actually fuse together with the aforementioned Chipmunk legs of Uncle Harry and Simon and a nearby pair of nail clippers. The air of neglect and cruelty that swirls viciously around the tombs of Toy Hell has provided some form of unholy adhesive, and it has the ability to bind these discarded parts and ultimately transform them into a horrible monster: the mythological toy-beast.

Of course the toy-beast can only be shaped from the available parts in their surrounding Toy Graveyard, so each beast looks different in their respective hell zones. This is the being that has formed within the realm of my personal Graveyard (yours could look very different). For several years this ungodly beast attempted to seek vengeance for my maltreatment of his toy brethren by invading my dreams and trying to kill me in my sleep. He obviously never succeeded, but it wasn’t until I sought therapy from several prominent physiatrists and neurological analysts that I was finally able to begin the appropriate steps for overcoming my personal toy-beast; at last I'm finally gaining closure over my vicious past. As a matter of fact I’ve been doing so well that I’ve began collaborating with famous filmmaker Wes Craven to develop the next installment into the Nightmare on Elm Street series:

I’m expecting to have a complete recovery some time around June of next year, coincidentally the same time my new film A Nightmare on Elm Street: Freddy VS. The Toy-Beast will be released in select theaters!

The Worst Star Wars Figure Collection EVER

During my tenure as a child I was fortunate enough to be around for some of the more popular campaigns that attempted to drain money from anyone willing to buy me something. One such campaign was the wallet-crushing juggernaut that is the Star Wars franchise. I was born two years after the first film in ’77, and even though I only developed a viable form of consciousness at the ass-end of the trilogy during Return of the Jedi, I was still hooked. I wanted every Star Wars toy I could get my hands on. Unfortunately suckling from the posterior teat of Star Wars mania has its negative effects, namely I couldn’t look forward to another Star Wars film and access to Star Wars themed merchandise was slowly on the decline without any anticipation of a further installment. Also because I was around for the height of other infectious franchises like He-Man, G.I. Joe, and the Transformers, the final moments of the original trilogy had some stiff competition among my other childhood obsessions. That basically means that my Star Wars collection never really met the quality standards that it could have if only I was just a little older, like Empire Strikes Back older. I would sometimes have to acquire Star Wars figures that were inside the bargain bins at major retail stores or were sold at those stores that specialize in outdated or overstocked merchandise; when these are the prime sources for fulfilling your Star Wars needs you’re often in danger of choosing from some seriously slim pickins.

I was however able to build a somewhat decent size collection of about 15 – 20 figures (some inhereted from my older brother), but because I would often obtain figures in bargain bins that meant I had many figures that were severely lacking in comparison to the Star Wars greats like Luke, Han, or Vader (I specifically remember owning the Black Bespin security guard and the AT-AT Commander. What good is the AT-AT Commander without an AT-AT?). And because Star Wars was on the decline, so was the concern for the well-being of my Star Wars action figure collection. Even my mom could sense the waning power of Star Wars and began to systematically discard them. The ones that managed to stick around however... well…here’s what’s left:

As you can see I have a Yoda painted yellow and the Rancor Keeper. The Yoda figure is definitely one of your higher-class Star Wars figure acquisitions (minus the yellow paint of course) due to the fact that he’s one of the major players in the original trilogy. But the Rancor Keeper is all the way down inside the bargain bin level of Star Wars obscurity. Somehow his .002 second long scene where he blubbers like a chubby little bitch was enough to warrant the creation of his own action figure. Then again it was the Return of the Jedi era, so that meant every aspect of Star Wars was relentlessly milked for its marketability. At least the Rancor Keeper had some screen time as opposed to Pruneface. Why the hell would Kenner make a figure for this guy?

But anyway, Yellow Yoda and the Rancor Keeper are all that I have to remind me of my Star Wars past. It’s obvious however that my Star Wars past isn’t that special seeing as that I’ve simply let these pitiable toys rot away inside a closet coffin. Nonetheless, they’ve been resurrected from the Graveyard and I think it would be nice to give them an appropriate send-off before I throw them back into their forsaken Hell.

I’ll begin this farewell celebration with the Rancor Keeper. Initially this figure came with a headdress and also some kind of cattle prod weapon. Those items were lost in about the same amount of time that the Rancor Keeper actually appeared in Return of the Jedi. Me and action figure accessories didn’t mix well together; the second they left the protective plastic bubble and made contact with my skin they would just disintegrate, turn into some kind of accessory-based vapor, and then be absorbed into the atmosphere never to be played with again. So essentially without the accessories this toy is just a bald fat guy wearing M.C. Hammer parachute pants and a saggy brown diaper. Diapers in any context don’t seem to fit well into the epic criteria of Star Wars.

According to Wikipedia, the Rancor Keeper’s Star Wars universe name (AKA: “Someone took Star Wars too far” name) is “Malakili” and he’s also:

"Jabba the Hutt's personal rancor trainer. A veteran of the Circus Horrificus, he had a deep affinity for the beast. In the time before Episode VI, Jabba had offered a lavish reward for anyone who could capture a krayt dragon to pit against the rancor; fearful of the rancor being hurt or killed, Malakili had conspired with Lady Valerian to take them away. After Luke Skywalker killed the rancor, Malikili swore revenge against Skywalker and Jabba.”

Circus Horrificus? Wow. All this time I just thought the Rancor Keeper was… well just that, the Rancor Keeper. He’s the guy who took care of the Rancor. I had no idea about his vow of vengeance against Luke Skywalker. Do you know why I didn’t know about it? BECAUSE IT’S THE FUCKING RANCOR KEEPER AND THAT’S ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW. He swears revenge against Luke Skywalker huh? What’s he gonna do attack him with projectile tears and snot while bawling over a dead rancor? Besides, is this really the face of vengeance?

Looks to me more like the face of somebody who just found out that the McRib is back. Either that or one of those crazed motorized cart patrons at a Chinese Buffet restaurant. But have no fear of the Rancor Keeper, because he’s about to get his. In a strange twist of events there’s actaully another Star Wars character that has ironically sworn revenge against the Rancor Keeper. To the chagrin of all you Star Wars purists out there, the rancor has survived (Luke never actaully killed him) and he’s seriously pissed about a relatively unknown scandal that has rocked the Star Wars expanded universe.

Armed with a .45 caliber pistol the rancor has returned to seek vengeance against the one person who while claiming to have a “deep affinity” for him was actually using the rancor as a twisted tool for exploitation. The Rancor Keeper is by no means just a simple lover and master of exotic alien pets, but is rather a sick predator who turned loveable man-eating monsters into subserviant players within a lurid production of insatiable and unsettling sexual deviance. The so-called “Circus Horrificus” was just a front for a hardcore bestiality pornography mega-network, and for years the rancor’s asshole had been the subject of several lewd sexual performances involving a 30 gallon vat of Astro-Jelly (The Star Wars equivalent of a personal lubricant) and the Rancor Keeper’s bald head. These performances were often broadcast directly from the rancor pit on starnet (the Star Wars equivalent of the internet), and it was when the rancor threatened to reveal this ring to the authorities his death was subsequentially plotted by Jabba and the Rancor Keeper.

Upon inadvertantly overhearing these plans prior to a special starnet “Circus Horrificus” broadcast involving the Rancor Keeper and also several members of the imperial senate, the rancor began communicating with Luke Skywalker in an effort to fake his own death during the attempted infiltration of Jabba’s palace. After the rancor’s plans succeeded and all thought he was dead, his body was buried in the sand dunes of Tatooine. Soon however the rancor emerged from his grave and traveled to the planet Earth where he was expertly trained in the use of a .45 caliber pistol. When he returned to Tatooine he discovered that the Rancor Keeper had taken control of Jabba’s palace and had been using it as the main headquarters for the new “Circus Horrificus” Productions. This time however his sick pleasures were now turned upon the diverse alien orifices of the Max Rebo band. With his pistol skills the rancor easily defeated the Rancor Keeper’s personal bodyguards, shooting every one of them down with a single shot. And upon finally reaching his former master’s private quarters and blasting the door down, the rancor took the Keeper out back behind the palace and put a bullet in his head, the very head that for years had been the representation of the rancor’s sexual oppression and his motivation to seek vengeance.

Now that we’ve got that perverted Rancor Keeper out of the way, let’s focus now on the next and final entry in the worst Star Wars collection: A de-accessorized Yoda figure I painted yellow.

Like the Rancor Keeper, I promptly lost all of Yoda’s included accessories. The first things to go were his walking cane and snake necklace, which I always thought was an odd item to include with Yoda because it suggested Yoda had some kind force-powered snake charming ability. I even went as far as to undo Yoda’s utility belt and remove his removeable cloth cloak (there’s probably some kind of Freudian sexual philosophy that could be attached to this act, but I’m not willing to go there); these items probably survived a little longer than the cane and snake, but they were lost nonetheless. So my Yoda figure was never really the same as the Yoda that appeared in Empire or Jedi, and instead he became a sort of “day off” Yoda; it’s the figure that showed Yoda’s lazier side, like when he was under no obligation to help save the galaxy and would just sleep until 2:00 p.m. everyday, never bother to get dressed, and then just sit around in his brown underwear eating Cool Ranch Doritos and watching re-runs of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

I could’ve had some serious playtime action if I only I would’ve realized the potential of a Day-off Yoda figure. I could’ve pretended Luke and Yoda took a break in between training to catch Monday Night Football, or maybe Obi-Wan’s spirit would stop by the hut to smoke a joint and then challenge Yoda to a heated game of Trivial Pursuit. In retrospect the possibilities of Day-off Yoda seem endless, but my child-like senses were incapable of seeing the toy’s capacity. Instead I found Day-off Yoda to be in serious need of a make-over, and by makeover I mean take a yellow paint marker I found in a junk drawer and make Yoda look like he was on the receiving end of a mustard bottle bukkake.

Like saggy brown diapers, the color yellow also seems to distract from the full epic effect of the Star Wars trilogy. Think about it, there is no significant use of the color yellow in the original Star Wars films. Yellow is just too disorienting, evident here in this reenactment of Yoda’s death scene from Return of the Jedi:

As you can see a yellow Yoda is almost as confusing as a last-minute script change that would make Leia Luke’s twin sister, but somehow splattering Yoda with yellow seems slightly more coherent. By painting Yoda a different color I wasn’t harming my toys, but instead making a symbolic gesture about the state of Star Wars and the subversive trend of high concept movies transforming from structurally and emotionally sound productions into technical driven vehicles for cinematic superficiality. Or maybe I was just a bored little shit who had nothing better to do. But anyway, it’s time for Yellow Yoda to return to hell, and since I ‘ve already got the racor with a .45 here...well…Goodbye Yellow Yoda. Goodbye.

I think that’s gonna be about it for our trek into the Toy Graveyard…for now. Besides, you’ve already seen too much and I think Mortimer is starting to get pissed. If you’ve learned anything from this article I hope it’s that you’ve just wasted a portion of your valuble time looking at shitty old toys when you could’ve been doing something constructive. So until next time…

The only path to redemption is through e-mailing me: mister@destroyyourtoys.com