Whenever we watch films and TV shows set in the 1990's and earlier decades, there's one moment that might occur guaranteed to stab us deep in our heart....
The sight of record stores....stores that sold us Vinyl albums, cassettes, CDs, VHS tapes, DVDs, Blu-Rays, even books, comic books, graphic novels......a universe of home entertainment.....
Stores that have vanished off the face of earth as sure as the dinosaurs waddled into the tar pits....
Yes, we know the usual reasons......how rapid technology advancements forever changed how we consume our entertainment......
But the first harbingers of doom, the first sign of the coming apocalypse for our beloved entertainment emporiums, the first curse put upon these wonderful venues....
.....were these m*****f***in' dolls. May they rot in the deepest, darkest recesses of Hades.
Deceptively harmless at first, they'd show up with one shelf display in our favorite stores.....
Little did we know they were the equivalent of a cancerous tumor......a malignant growth that would slowly but surely metastasize until it engulfed and devoured all other the merchandise around it, that it would push the albums and movies to a small back corner of the store.
We came to realize that an array of these dolls in a display window was the store's way of announcing to us....."This is the beginning of the end for us. You'll see these little bastards from hell multiply like leukemia in our bloodstream and bones and eventually they'll choke us and kill us and you'll never see the likes of us again...."
And so it came to be.
Now and forever we lay our own curse upon Funko Pop dolls.....these instruments of the devil. They should be blowtorched into puddles of plastic and the gooey plastic remnants buried with the ground above them sown with salt.
And the manufacturers of these hell spawned creatures...we say to them.....go Funko yourselves.
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