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That One Time I Got Cursed By A Clown Doll

October 13, 2011 by
So, I’m at an antique shop yesterday and there were some delightfully creepy booths, which are basically my favorite kind of booths (other than those filled with old vinyl albums), and in one of those creepy, creepy booths there was a doll. Not just any doll. A clown doll. And not just any clown doll, a terrifying clown doll. And not just any terrifying clown doll, a…..oh wait, I guess it was just a terrifying clown doll. This clown doll had a face filled with malice and evil and ill omens, yet something (was it magnets?) compelled me to pick up that terrifying clown doll and show it to my friend Mary. As soon as my hand touched that clown doll, I regretted it. Why had I let curiosity dictate my actions?! I knew full well that curiosity is the number one killer of cats, and yet I still obeyed it as if it was my Mama. Fool that I am! After showing Mary the doll I set it down on the table immediately. Too late! Too late! I could already feel the curse of the clown doll coursing through my right hand. My hand started to tingle and with fear in my heart, I looked over at Mary and said “Um. I’m like 90% sure that clown doll just cursed me.” to which she replied “Oh yeah. It totally did.”
The only question that remains is what form this curse will take. I have a few theories.
1. I will develop a compulsive need to tell knock-knock jokes.
2. I will get trapped in tiny car filled with 12 other people.
3. My arm will fall off.
4. I will have nightmares involving cream pies for the rest of my life.
5. That clown doll will find me and murder me ala Chucky.
Tell my story friends. Tell it to everyone you know and love. Don’t let creepy clown doll curses win. Save yourselves!
Anyway, I’m really excited about Halloween.

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