I must have endured absolute failure in at least 20 different versions of Toys “R” Us shopping spree contests as a kid. The concept just never got old. It still hasn’t.
Every time one of them popped up, I’d lose myself for hours in daydreams about zipping through toy aisles with overstuffed carts. Thoughts like those were as close to getting high as most eight-year-olds ever came.
A few years ago, I actually went on my own little Toys “R” Us shopping spree. Sure, it was my own money, and sure, I was around twenty years too old to be doing it with any degree of reason. Still had fun, and still love my giant, rubber, two-headed dragon.
This is so great. Back in 1990, Spencer Gifts and Chucky teamed up to bring us the greatest horror hotline since the heyday of Freddy Krueger.
Apparently, you called a 900 number, endured a too-long, pay-by-minute prerecorded message from Chucky, and if you hung around long enough, you got to enter your own phone number for a special callback on Halloween night.
I can think of no better way to spend Halloween than waiting for Chucky to call me. I can just see the eleven-year-old me, clutching the cordless with one hand and a bag of greasy Doritos with the other.
So pissed that I didn’t know about this back then. I was pretty Chucky-obsessed during the Child’s Play 2 days, and absolutely would’ve went wacko for this.
The Spencer Gifts connection should be obvious enough: That was the premiere chain to buy anything with Chucky’s likeness on it, and would stay that way for years. (Somewhere in our apartment is a life-sized “Tiffany” doll, begging to be freed from her hoity-toity window box. Another Spencer Gifts pick-up.)