Waxworks
Can't bear them, will not go near them.
I don't even like dummies in department stores. Think it stems from a family holiday in Llundudno when I was seven. We decided to go into a chamber of horrors on the pier. After being scared shitless by the exhibits I slammed my eyes shut and told me dad to tell me when we were outside. Obviously, he did what any responsible parent would do and marched me right up to the scariest model he could find and went, "Right Son, you're okay!" I think my scream echoed round the whole building.
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Fast forward 8 years to 1995 and I was on a youth club trip to Italy. We found out that one of the big Italian horror directors lived locally and there was an exhibition on of his work. I aksed to stay in the youth club where we were bunking but was told I couldn't stay on my own. Reluctantly, I went inside and edged my way around the room, slowly getting used to the place and trying not to look like I was on the verge of passing out. In the middle of the room was a large straw circle, at the edge of which stood a dummy with the face of a rat, in a monk's robe, holding a sword. Time passed, and I had gained a bit of confidence, mainly as I was trying to impress the young lady I fancied. I decided to go up to the monk/ rat for a closer look. as I got close it leaped out the circle, yelling in Italian and brandishing the sword. Heroically, I curled up in a foetal position on the ground sobbing, "Get me out, get me out!"
After I was lead shaking from the building I sat on the steps and lit a cigarette, after many attempts, to calm my nerves. The bastard in the outfit only came legging it out the place and chased me down the street!

Never ever receovered from that.
( Boss Keloid Got your mother's maiden name tattooed on my arm, Thu 10 Apr 2008, 15:11, Reply)