One of the more disappointing things about childhood is the completely false advertising you are subjected to. All the action figures fight on these amazing fake landscapes. Every time you eat a Fruit by the Foot your tongue turns crazy. And every time you drink Kool-Aid the sweet-ass Kool-Aid man bursts into your house and everyone has a party.
Except at my house. There were no landscapes filled with trees and teeming with Foot Soldiers. I had one lonely Foot Soldier that my four Ninja Turtles beat up over and over and over again. My Fruit by the Foot just tasted like really bad Fruit Roll Up. And the motherfucking Kool-Aid man never came to my house. That motherfucker. I even had the Kool-Aid man pitcher and cups that I saved up all those Kool-Aid points for. Much like Santa, the sixty-sixth episode of Rescue Rangers, and the skateboard Dad promised me; it was a hollow promise.
I don’t wanna grow up, I’m a Toys R Us kid…
Sherief
Preach on! Same at my house! My foot soldier had an abused child complex by the end of my childhood- “Why do they keep hitting me? What did I do?”
Glad I’m not alone here. The worst was probably my Ghostbusters. I had all the Ghostbusters and the Headquarters but no ghosts. They fought a lot of invisible ghosts and “possessed” household objects.
What about the Transformers that changed instantly on TV, but took like 20 minutes to di in real life. Battles took like two hours just to get them all in robot form. By that time I was too tired to actually have the war… Also, fuck the Kool-Aid Man. He never showed at my house either. I say we hunt his ass down and crack his pitcher. Then wa tch all his kool aid leak out on the floor.
I forgot all about how horrible it was to transform Transformers. I sucked so badly I could usually only half transform them, so my Optimus Prime was just a truck with a head and arms!