#Poor poor Toh-lu Kah. :~(

[vegacoyote]

My sister had an unfortunate compulsion to torture furbies to insanity. She fed ours until it stopped saying “No. More.” and started screeching dial-up noises, and never recovered even after we tried to reset its personality. And the kid she baby-sat for had one, and she kept tickling that one until it announced in a demonic voice: “I. Don’t. Like. You. Wah.” And then more screechy dial-up noises.

I said to my dad that I felt so bad for them, but maybe that was dumb, because they weren’t real animals, were they? And he said, “No, listen. Would your sister have done that to the electric pencil sharpener? The only difference is they were telling her to stop.”

And look. My sister is an incredibly kind, compassionate person, but she also has a tendency towards cuteness aggression, and Furbies don’t bite. I would trust her to care for any living, feeling thing she came across to the best of her ability. Unless it was Furby-shaped. Them, I would keep out of her line of sight as long as I possibly could, cause I don’t trust her ass not to get twitchy fingers if she sees another feed-me button on a robot parrot wrapped in faux fur.

It's so fucking funny how many people who owned Furbies as children ended up being traumatized by them in some way