What really killed My Buddy

Pop culture stories I tell my kids

I HAVE A CONFESSION to make. I purposely killed My Buddy at some point in 1989. There, I said it. After all these years, it’s finally off my chest. Read me my Miranda rights.

Who was really playing pretend, My Buddy?

The backstory of why I killed My Buddy, a toy by Hasbro

After returning home from my cousin Brandon Elder’s house, sometime after April 25, 1989*, I silently maneuvered upstairs to my bedroom like a trained SWAT officer. With my back against the wall, I peered around the corner into my closet, and BAM! caught My Buddy off guard.

I was sure the blue eyed demon knew what was coming and had a knife. His face was innocent enough. The freckles. He even had his arms out like he wanted to give me a hug. Hogwash! I knew it was merely a ploy. He had a butcher knife in that closet somewhere and that mothereffer wasn’t going to catch me sleeping. He wasn’t going to dice me or my family up into tiny pieces like a Ballpark hot dog mixed in with Bush’s baked beans.

“How was the sleepover?” my mom called from downstairs.

It’s times like these when you turn your head lost in distraction that they slip away. But not me — no no no. I had, at the tender age of 7 years old, just watched Child’s Play on VHS at my cousin Brandon’s house so I knew the deal. My mental note game was strong.

I was in full concentration mode, bucko. And it was then, holding my one time best friend in my arms tightly so the devilish bastard wouldn’t get away, I took him to the top of our stairs in Phenix, Virginia, and slung him down the steps to his death.

“What are you doing?” my mom exclaimed.

“He’s evil!” I said.

“Who’s evil?” my mom asked, a look of concern on her face.

“My Buddy!”

“My Buddy?”

“He’s not My Buddy. He’s Chucky!”

“Who is Chucky? Are you talking about Chuck Taylor?”

“No! Chucky! He’s the doll manifestation of fugitive serial killer Charles Lee Ray.”

(I’m just kidding. I didn’t say that part.)

“Chucky is an evil doll who pretends to be your best friend and then kills you and everyone you love.”

“I’m going to call Ginny,” my mom said. “Did y’all tell each other ghost stories or something?”

“No, we watched a movie.”

“We’ll talk about it in a little bit. Now come get your My Buddy.”

“No. I don’t want him! He’s evil! Evil I tell you. Take him far away so he doesn’t find me and protect yo’ neck because he’s eyeing it, the murderous fraud. A reincarnation of death and destruction. A beast with two horns like a lamb who speaks like a dragon even if you can’t see the horns and even if he doesn’t actually speak.”

And that was My Buddy, kids. Any questions for Daddy? Now who wants ice cream?

*The official VHS release date of Child’s Play on VHS

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By Jeffrey Pillow

Jeffrey Pillow is an American short story writer, memoirist, and poet. He is the author of The Lady Next Door. His writing has been published in Urge Magazine, The Nervous Breakdown, 16 Blocks, USA Today, Sports Illustrated, TheBody.com, New York Times, Washington Post, and Richmond Times-Dispatch.

He grew up in the small town of Phenix, Virginia, population: 200, and now lives in Charlottesville with his wife, two kids, and a dog named Mozzarella Cheese. He is a graduate of the University of Virginia where he was a Rainey Scholar. This is his blog.