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  • Either there are factories somewhere whose purpose is to create monsters to disturb your children. Not cute Sulley-like monsters but the kind that give you the creeps when they lurch forward on the floor. The kind that watch you as you sleep.

    Or there are bad people who stitch together bits and pieces of innocent toys to make awful mutations.

    Or there are deranged kids who clamour for dolls like this to cuddle and whisper their dark secrets to. I hope I never meet them.

    Whoever's responsible makes me shiver. The bonnet, cowlick hair and blue eyes from some Victorian tea party, paired with a bindi. The pouting lips, the armless hands that reach for you. The feet that are just fur. I imagine it squeaks or growls if you clutch it to you, but I wouldn't get that close.

    And what about the donkey being mounted in the background.
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