There’s a reason that the “killer toy” trope is so popular in horror movies like Child’s Play, Annabelle and M3GAN (the sequel, M3GAN 2.0, is set to hit the 2025 movie calendar on June 27). It doesn’t take much to alter how one feels about the seemingly innocent toys of their childhood and turn them from trusted playthings to vessels for the embodiment of pure evil. I was reminded of this recently when I watched M3GAN for the first time and recalled the terrifying experience I had as a child.

It wasn’t on purpose that I waited this long to indulge in one of the best horror movies of 2023. I actually only realized that I hadn’t seen the Allison Williams and Violet McGraw flick when I was adding the sequel to my list of movies to see in theaters. In the end, it reinforced my long-held belief that you’ve got to keep an eye on those supposedly non-living creatures.

Teddy Ruxpin Was No M3GAN, But He Was Fine For An ‘80s Toy

When I say “long-held belief,” I’m talking decades, because I’d like to take you back to a wonderful time called the 1980s. I received a Teddy Ruxpin doll for my birthday when I was probably 4 or 5 years old. The technology would be laughable now, but in my little analog world, this not-so-cuddly bear was the thing of dreams.

First impressions? Let’s be real — I was disappointed. I’d seen the commercials where (at least in my mind) Teddy Ruxpin would have a free-flowing, back-and-forth conversation with its child owner, so I popped that thing out its box with an excited, “Hi Teddy!”

Not so fast, little Heidi. First we’ve got to insert four AA batteries, then we have to slide the cassette tape into the tape deck on Teddy’s back, and only then will you be able to…hear pre-recorded phrases and stories:

Sigh. Yeah, you’ll do.

I would have loved a M3GAN doll. I would have killed for a M3GAN doll. I would have let a M3GAN doll kill for me. But it was the ‘80s, so Teddy Ruxpin it was, and Teddy Ruxpin was just fine …

Until The Day Teddy Ruxpin’s Batteries Ran Out

The evidence would point to the fact that I loved Teddy Ruxpin. The evidence is that I used that little tape deck on his back enough to run the batteries out. At that age, though, I was simply not prepared for what it would look like when that happened. It was a Saturday morning (I’m assuming, because in this core memory, the sun was out and my parents were still asleep). I woke up and hit Play on my bear’s back.

Then it happened.

I don’t recall if it was during Teddy Ruxpin’s initial greeting, or if he was midway through a story, but as the life drained from the AA batteries, so too did it drain out of my bear. His voice deepened as it slowed, warping his words until a guttural sound served as a death rattle.

I turned, terrified, to look at Teddy’s face just as his eyes went askew, slowly rolling back in his head but with the painted-on irises staring blankly in different directions. Most of the eye sockets were now white nothingness. His terminal noises echoed in my ears as I dove under the covers.

Did I cry out for my parents immediately or wait until I was sure the bear wouldn’t try to breach my blanketed fortress? I’m not sure, but if you remember the scene in M3GAN where water spills on her, and she starts to glitch as she jerkily continues to pursue her victim, that’s pretty much what I thought I’d see if I dared to peek out into the orbs that had previously served as eyes.

I did eventually work up the courage to call out to my parents, and I’m sure they nonchalantly explained that the batteries had gone out as they took the shell of my former friend away. To corroborate this story, I texted my mother this morning to ask if she remembered this life-altering event, and she responded with a compassionate: