Creepy Psycho Clown doll: OK! Clown

Scary Creepy Clown Doll Toy OK Kids WTF


This is why I hate Clowns – Creepy Psycho OK Clown from Hell!

“The day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking toward me, without hurrying” – Jean Cocteau

I want it known to anyone reading this, that I am afraid. I am afraid of what is to come to me and my family. If anything happens to us in the near future, it is no accident. It is death – fear, pain and misery incarnate. It is Mr. Marbles.It began years ago on one of my many journeys to an underground occult market in a dark corner of the world where few have ever traveled. It was during a dark part of my life and I was looking for the answers to the universe and for the power of the unknown and forbidden. It was on my last trip to the market that I came across Mr. Marbles. He was quiet, unshaven and holding a dark smile. I ignored him and asked the merchant if she had any magic monkey paws left in stock. She did not (they were on back order due to the recent Christmas rush) and pointed to the doll that I had just walked past. “It is $5” was all she said. I should have ignored her and kept walking, but there was something about Mr. Marbles that compelled me to bring him home. Strange things began on that day. My television began to turn on randomly in the middle of the night and pick up closed circuit television signals from the bus stop down the road. Some of my toys and objects d’art would be re-arranged on my shelves when I got back from school. My cat was terrified to go into the kitchen, when he had no problems before. There was more as well – my bathroom walls would leak a copper coloured, odourless fluid at least once every 2 days. Even after spending hundreds of dollars on plumbers, it continued to do so – even when there was no pipe behind the wall or other possible cause. I knew something was wrong and so I threw out the doll. Gone, into the trash it went, but weeks later I found Mr. Marbles sitting on my couch. How the hell? I had no idea if the cat dug him out of the garbage or what, but the damn toy was back! I threw him out a few times after that as well, and each time within a few weeks (sometimes days) the doll came back – each time, I found him sitting on my living room couch. I decided to tie the doll in chains, Houdini style, and throw him in the bottom of a large chest. The weirdness stopped and pretty much everything went back to normal. For years it remained this way, until…
IMG_1788Fast forward to 2015, I am a father, a home owner and have moved forward with my life. My eldest daughter recently started digging around in my old toy box and found a few Ninja Turtles and Transformers toys that she wanted to play with. I was fine with all this, as long as she took care of them, but one day she came running upstairs with what I knew in my heart, could never leave me, no matter how much I denied it or forgot about it. “What’s this?” she asked me, holding Mr. Marbles in her tiny hands. His chains were gone, but his hideous smile remained. I swear I heard thunder and lightning from outside when she showed it to me, although my wife tells me that she didn’t remember that part. Perhaps it was only in my mind… maybe all of this was in my mind.

He has never told me his name but I like to call him Mr. Marbles (a reference to Seinfeld). He is playful, but dark, if not downright evil. I can imagine that he was of little comfort to any child that may have owned him previously. Can you imagine the looks of fear and anguish that would be on the little child’s face that received this as a gift from some creepy uncle? Why would such a thing even exist? In no universe is this an appropriate toy for a child, hell even as an adult it’s fucking creepy. I can only assume he was banished to our world from another dimension, but I haven’t quite proven that yet – but I am sure nonetheless. His white suspenders are a nice touch and his playful choice of colours reminds me that everything is going to be OK… not great, but OK. Why? Why is it OK Mr. Marbles? What are you saying and why the hell are you saying it? This seems incredibly unnatural and only adds to the confusion, and to the fear…
IMG_1805His face… my God that face… the dead eyes, the sinister grin and the funeral parlour makeup. He defines my terror. I have found no information on him – even with specific searches such as “Fucked up demon clown plush OK”. There are no articles on the web about him, where he came from, what his name is or why he walks among us. Is he a prize toy from some travelling side-show? Is he a counterfeit gone terribly wrong? Is he a satire and supposed to be like this? Is he a home-made nightmare from a madman? Is he a charm used in a hell-spawned ritual? IMG_1815Why can’t I find anything on him? Why is he here taunting me?!  I was able to find information on a stuffed banana toy I won at a small county fair over 30 years ago, however nothing on Mr. Marbles. It is impossible. It is as though he doesn’t exist but I am fairly sure he must. I have him in my hands.. perhaps I am in his hands. Damnit, keep it together man! I need to hold on to reality – my reality, which should be your reality as well. Although in my reality there is a psycho clown from beyond the moon living in my house! Have I finally succumbed to insanity? Have I reached the point where my own angers and hatred have come to life in the doll? No… I need to hold on to what I know… I know it is he that brings the madness and it is he that brings with him death. I will not lose myself for him, I will not give in!

I am genuinely scared – it has been 5 times in the last few weeks that the fire alarms have gone off at 7:06 am. For the observant among you, you will notice that would be 6:66 o’clock. What is happening!? Is it really happening? Part of me wonders if I ever left the occult shop years ago. Perhaps my body is still there in a state of catatonia while my mind is being ever slowly seduced by Mr. Marbles, his agony, his desires. I’m loosing me! Please …. Help my family…. I am convinced that he has killed before… and I am afraid, he may kill again.

VERDICT: Kill it! Kill it with fire!

What do you think? Can you imagine any kid actually wanting this thing? Any ideas where it came from?  Leave a comment and let the nerd army know!


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