It’s Christmas Morning. You run downstairs with glee, ready to open all of your presents. You tear open many pleasantly wrapped boxes, all containing generic toys, but one box… It was just the right size. You shake it. It makes the right kind of sound. It HAS to be it, there’s no other toy it could be… You open it…

It’s Mama Tattletail.

You open her up and take her out of the box.

“Mama will look after you.”

Her distorted voice box rings out.