The Good Gals industry was slowly winding down after all the incidents surrounding their conspiracies went down. The headlines were everywhere: "Killer Dolls?! Rogue Good Gal Doll 'allegedly' haunted and cause for murders and destruction..." The story blew up everyone, and on top of causing fear, it also caused outrage. So, the company really had no choice but to sell all that they could...

You thought it would be a bit amusing to get a doll for yourself, just to see if all those stories from long ago were really true. It wasn't really that hard to get ahold of one--everyone was too chicken to actually buy one, especially those who had children, so they were practically everywhere. However, you chose not a clean and new doll, but the old doll just kinda thrown into the back of the pawn shop.

She has long lost the box she was once shipped in, though her clothes were in fairly good shape. The same probably couldn't be said for their tastes, though. I mean, what sort of doll for kids is dressed up in such loose and off the shoulder clothing? From the red thigh highs to the loose t-shirt under an iconic blue overalls skirt, it wasn't really the staple of kid friendly. But, benefit of the doubt, these dolls are old. Perhaps children back then weren't as soft as now.

The owner of the pawn shop did give you a few warnings as you tried checking out the doll. "You know, the woman who sold that doll to me was a mother. She said it would always pop up in places it shouldn't, doing casual, mundane things, watching TV, knocking stuff over...thought she was losin' her marbles, but she was sure shook. Just sayin', watch that doll carefully."

Well, that didn't deter you, did it?

You take the doll home, and sat it on your night stand. Home sweet home.

...Well, the durn doll wasn't doin' much. Maybe it was just a ruse after all.

With that, you left your bedroom, the doll just sitting soundly on your desk as you went about your evening routine. It was about 11:30 PM, when you were snug in your couch watching TV (Oceanic Documentaries with Barack Obama) that the sound of something clattering on the kitchen floor came from behind.

Since you were as snug as a bug, as they say, you were reluctant to go investigate...however, you lived alone. So, like, you didn't wanna risk the chance of a burglar.

With a tired groan, you proceed to the kitchen...

There was a fallen bag of sugar...and one of your kitchen knives were gone from the rack.

When you turned around, there she was. Chucky, knife behind her back. At first, she played inanimate, until her limbs twitched, moved with some stiffness, before becoming more fluid, as the hand on the knife handle grew tighter.

"Ah-hee hee...ya missing this, sucker?! Too bad, it's mine now. And I got an idea of where to put it!"

In your head, obviously.