One of the weirder things I've ever purchased was a lavender string-wicker bunny figurine, just after Easter.
The weird thing about this wasn't that I was 18 at the time, or that I was buying a bunny. It was made much like string art draped over balloons - you know, like when you dip the string in glue and wind it around the balloon, let it dry, and then pop the balloon so you have string art in its place.
The bunny's outer purple string was draped over innner wire. He had two little purple buttons for eyes. But none of these things were particularly weird, either.
This bunny was demonic, I tell you.
One of his little purple "eye sockets" must have been damaged during the original transit to the store, hence ending up on the clearance shelf. That one eye was sunken in, giving him an otherworldly, I-am-plotting-heinous-evil look. All it took was one glance at him, and you knew this little purple string dude was bent on world domination, killing puppies, and forcing you to watch Nicolas Cage movies. Over and over... and over.
It's like all those evil characters in comic books, who are twisted but still reasonable before the trip into a vat of acid, experimenting themselves into insanity, or being attacked by a prickle of rabid porcupines. (I think that would be my favorite villain, by default.) The damage wrought upon the bunny just pushed him over the edge.
My friend-sister Finnley and I were mesmerized by the creepy thing. It seemed to have come alive, reaching into our souls and taking a bite out of them, declaring us fit for demon consumption. His adorable little ears did nothing to quell the horror of staring into his eyes. I think he was $1.88.
"Oh my God, it's creepy," Finnley said.
"Totally. I'm buying it," I responded.
And so the wee bunny of DOOM came home with me. Not one to shirk my duties as Caretaker of Evil Holiday Decor, I spruced up the bunny to help him feel less purple and more deadly.
His eyes received a light coat of red glitter paint, because eyes are the windows to the soul, after all, and his soul was a gateway to Hell. Next, I found three toothpicks. Two of them were pierced straight through his nose. He bore the pain quite well... almost too well. He already looked like he could take over the world in one hypnotic, televised speech to the masses. But he needed a finishing touch.
I snapped the last toothpick in half, dipped the sharp ends in red paint, and stuck them up into his mouth: fangs, dripping with the blood of innocents. He was ready.
If I remember right, at one point I gave him my black spikey bracelet to wear as a collar - as if he needed to be more intimidating. Sure, he was purple - nay, lavender - but the evil exuding from the rest of him made me gloss over the color every time.
Instead, it was always those sharp fangs, evil piercings, and blood-red eyes I came to focus on. One of which was just a little too deep.
So, show of hands: who finds it odd that I do things like this, but can't watch Evil Dead?