ugg boots childrens The 7 Most Unintentionally Nightmarish Children’s Characters
Put that lunch away, it’s not getting better from here.
Fofao, a mop topped escapee from the Island of Dr. Moreau, has been a beloved entertainer of Brazilian children since the 1980s, because the body horror genre has apparently not made its way into South America yet. He dresses like a police sketch of a pedophile and has the singing voice of a cartel assassin, but the kids in this video are completely unfazed by his presence.
Nobody seems like he was specifically engineered as nightmare fuel, and for some reason, the producers of Sesame Street thought it would be appropriate to have Nobody use his twitchy, disembodied facial features to deliver counting exercises to preschoolers. He also speaks with the terrifyingly dulcet tones of a serial killer patiently assuring us that there is no escape from his basement, because a man with a bachelor’s degree in home economics thought that was a good idea.
Phasing in and out of being, Nobody occupies some incomprehensible realm of chaotic oblivion, seeping through the cracks in our reality like one of Kevin Bacon’s visions in Stir of Echoes. Unsurprisingly, Jim Henson originally created this character for an entirely different purpose to narrate a surreal short film about the human subconscious.
Apparently, Mr. Henson’s brain supplied its own acid.
The film, Limbo, the Organized Mind, stars the Nobody as a mental homunculus adrift through a purgatory of his own thoughts, overlaid with images of leaky pipes, scurrying cockroaches, and foggy, alien landscapes.
Don’t worry, kids, God isn’t dead. He’s just hunting you.
At some point during the preproduction of his children’s television show, following a line of logic that will never be understood, Jim Henson revisited this nightmare and said, “Yes. This should be the monster that teaches human babies how to count.”
According to a French Wikipedia entry loosely translated by Google, is a bizarre satirical news program starring anthropomorphic animal puppets discussing topics that are instantly relatable to all children, such as the pressures of inter office politics and economics on broadcast journalism, and the undeniable hijinks of “professional misconduct.”
All of that explanation is irrelevant, however,
because none of us can hear anything over the shrieking madness of Ostrich Boobs and Personface McTelephone.
Somehow, somewhere Guillermo del Toro is smiling.
Beyond that, the entire program plays out like some fever dream a child would have staring at their stuffed animals while bedridden with typhus. The characters wobble around like stroke victims, rapidly twitching out the palsied facial expressions of a person shuddering into brain death, while their delicately gloved human hands make the refined but eerily purposed gestures of an aristocratic spree killer. Also, after the end credits of this particular episode, we are treated to a brief scene of the ostrich putting on lipstick and barely avoiding molestation at the hands of a sleazy cat with a broken arm who apparently hides cigarette lighters in his cast. By the way, that cat is a recurring character, and his arm is in a cast every single time we see him.
Either he’s not drinking enough of that milk, or milk isn’t what he’s drinking.
The characters don’t have separate puppet arms or anything, because gluing arms to arms would be too horrifying even for this show. No, instead the characters merely use their faces to grab everything, at which point the show devolves from “puppet theater” into “filming people as they juggle and play piano with eyeballs glued to their fingers.” Seriously, each episode feels like a video that a serial killer would leave for the police.
“Don’t even bother with the SWAT team, we’re just going to need a coroner.”
The anatomy of Oobi is made even more confusing by the fact that the characters talk and eat with the exact same set of appendages they use to manipulate objects. Watching Uma struggle with a pair of chopsticks in a Chinese restaurant is the most Sisyphean task you will ever see on a Nickelodeon channel, because even if she finally manages to hold the chopsticks correctly, how is she then supposed to eat with them?
Best not to ponder. That way lies madness.
Meet Wizbit, a magical talking wizard’s hat from space with a shrill, buzzing voice and eyes that stare off in conflicting directions as if they are locked in magnetic opposition. It is unclear whether Wizbit is supposed to be a boy hat or a girl hat, but what is painfully clear is that this is a question the universe never intended for us to ask.
Wizbit lives in a house with the desaturated color palette of a 1960s cigarette ad alongside a gloomy rabbit man named Wooly who spends the majority of every episode muttering inaudibly like a sociopath trying to do an impression of Art Carney. Wizbit, meanwhile, wags his eyebrows like a silent film comedian and dares children not to weep in terrified confusion, as if they have any choice in the matter.
There is no stopping the tears. Or the fears.
In one episode, the nefarious Professor Doom steals all of the color in Wizbit’s village. They take great pains to stress how evil Professor Doom is, despite the fact that he looks about as menacing as a birthday magician and as such is much less horrifying than the two heroes of the program.
We’re ruling whatever he does a clear cut case of self defense.
Wizbit turns the world back to color, prompting Wooly to shuffle awkwardly outside like he is struggling to choke back the biggest shit in anal clenching history to marvel at the space hat’s handiwork. He then does the same gloomy wallflower dance we assume he did when he went stag to prom. The dance goes on for an uncomfortably long time while Wizbit just stands there and stares off into the middle distance.
This is like a deleted scene from The Wicker Man.
In Raggedy Ann Andy: A Musical Adventure (the Toy Story of the 1970s), Raggedy Ann and Andy are two stalwart dolls who embark on a mission to save one of their fellow toys from a villainous pirate named the Captain, who, to be clear, is also a toy. They hitch a ride on a camel with an inexplicable Southern accent who ends up leading them directly into the Taffy Pit,
at which point they meet the Greedy and every child in the theater starts crying.