"Look what I made!"
Billy held up his creation with five-year-old pride. His mother stopped washing the dishes to look properly impressed.
"Ooh, what's that?"
"It's an eye creature."
Indeed, every hole in the plastic Mr. Potato Head potato held an eye. Big eyes, small eyes. All of them round, with blue pupils.
"Wow!" His mother admired it. "Now go play in the living room. Momma's busy."
Billy marched off. He came back. "Momma?"
"I told you, momma's busy. What's the matter?"
"I don't like it."
"Don't like what? Don't tell me you got tired of your eye creature already."
"It's scaring me."
"I don't like the eyes."
"Take it apart then."
"I can't. It's looking at me."
His mother marched into the living room. The eye creature waited on the coffee table. It stood, defiant, on the polished wood. It did have a lot of eyes. She took a deep breath, and got to work.
Afterward she said, "Billy?" He peeked around the door frame.
"It's ok, hon. I took care of it."
The eye creature on the table had been reduced to a pile of eyes, and a small detached plastic body. His mother held out the potato. "See?"
"The eyes are still looking at me."
Sure enough, the pile of eyes on the table stared for all they were worth.
Billy's mother scooped them up, along with the body and the plastic potato, and put them in the box. She replaced the lid. "There."
Count to ten... "What?"
"Put it in the closet."
The Haunted Cabaret
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