The Wonderful World of Toys: Day 666

Hello again, boils and ghouls, and welcome to the final Wonderful Week of Toys entry, the nail in the coffin that's come a little too late. Ah, but with every end, there's a new beginning, isn't there?  As we usher out seven days of assorted action figures and plastic dinosaurs, we look to the weeks ahead. They're all gloom-and-doom, hollowed-out pumpkins and hollowed-out skulls. All Hallow's Eve is closer than you think.

Who better to lead us down this pathway of monsters and mayhem than our good friend, The Crypt Keeper?

I've mentioned before that the popularity of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles brought about a strange age of animated series and toy-lines based on peculiar properties. Suddenly, we lived in a world where hyper-violent, R-rated flicks like Robocop (1987) and Predator (1987) could spawn series of action figures meant for children ages seven-plus. Everything was this odd mixture of terrifying and silly, all these brightly-colored nightmares clogging the pegs at your local Bradlees or Kay Bee Toys.

It's a trend that continued on into the early '90s, when you could tune into ABC's Saturday Morning line-up and catch a cartoon based on the macabre HBO-series, Tales From the Crypt. It's a show that both frightened and fascinated me as a pre-teen, so when Nelvana Limited and Warner Bros. teamed up to create a more lighthearted, animated version known as Tales from the Cryptkeeper, which was intended for younger audiences, well, I was there.

I wasn't, however, keen on collecting the toys produced to coincide with the cartoon. On the cusp on being a teenager, I was fine with watching the show on Saturday mornings, but obviously drew a line at owning the action-figures. Odd, I suppose, because nearly two decades later, and I was ecstatic to stumble upon The Crypt Keeper figure at my local thrift shop. There he was, jammed into a bag with a random assortment of Happy Meal toys and a battle-damaged Spider-Man, waiting for me to rescue him from his own nightmare.

I'd be terrified too at the prospect of spending an eternity trapped in a plastic-prison alongside Kung Fu Panda.

The Wonderful Week of Toys: Day Six

Remember that monkey-wrench I mentioned a couple days back?

Some of you may know him best as Niddler the monkey-bird from Hanna-Barbera's fantasy-based animated series, The Pirates of Dark Water. Originally airing as a five-part mini-series, and referred to only as Dark Water, the program gained an immediate cult-following. A year later, sixteen additional episodes were produced, and they would air as part of ABC's Saturday morning line-up. Hasbro Toys picked up the license that same year and created several action-figures based on the series.

I have fond memories of the cartoon, but never owned any of the toys when the show was first broadcast back in 1991. When I spotted Niddler, along with a handful of other figures from the line, sitting in a random plastic bin at the flea market this past Sunday, well, I wasn't going to leave him behind.

And yeah, he's a little rough; the paint worn from his beak, and various scuff-marks littering his feathered frame. I still love him though, despite the flaws and imperfections. Maybe even because of them. It's almost like I enjoy the idea that his previous owner actually played with him quite a bit, loved him more than the Batman or Power Ranger figures they had, too. I imagine story-lines where a sidekick like Niddler was able to be the hero, to save the day when no one else could.

The Wonderful Week of Toys: Day Five

Oh, the horror.

Oh, that Hook Horror.

I had no idea what I was looking at last week, a late-day visit to my local flea market, and there was this bizarre looking creature sitting in an open cabinet. He was half-buried under a mix of old wrestling figures, just enough visible to catch my eye. Something about the Hook Horror reminded me of those old Thundercats toys, which isn't too far off, considering he was produced by the same company, LJN. However, he doesn't hail from Thundera like Lion-O or Snarf, but instead from, uh, wherever it is that Dungeons & Dragons takes place.

I have no real fondness for the old D&D; never one for role-playing games in my youth. There are vague memories of watching the "classic" Dungeons & Dragons animated-series when it aired on Saturday mornings back in the '80s. But otherwise, I've never been a fan of sword-and-sorcery RPGS, all elves and chaotic-neutral allegiances.

If I'd known that the game was populated by weird, mish-mash monsters like Hook Horror, well, maybe I would have been tempted to give the game a try.

The Wonderful Week of Toys: Day Four

We're cutting things close today, due mostly to a lengthy flea-market trip and spending time with friends. The former is going to throw an interesting monkey-bird, er, I mean, monkey-wrench into the planned entries for the remainder of the week and that's okay. More than okay, actually. Just you wait and see.

For today, though, we're heading back to the year 1993. A time where Bill Clinton took over as President of the United States, WWF Monday Night Raw debuted on cable-television, and for some odd reason, troll dolls were a thing again. In an attempt to appeal to pre-teen boys, several toy companies released their own series of action figures loosely based around the concept of Norfin Trolls. One such toy-line [and an accompanying animated series] was known as The Stone Protectors.

Which is precisely where this guy, Chester the Wrestler, originated from. Not only a professional wrestler, Chester also played bass guitar and saxophone in The Rock Detectors, which is possibly the worst band in existence. Actually, maybe second worst, placing just behind Butthole Surfers.

Chester and his glorious, neon-pink mohawk only ended up in my collection because he was sharing space with Thunder Punch He-Man. Yes, this is the guy who also happened to be in that dollar ninety-nine grab-bag I mentioned in our first Toy Week update. Sad to admit, but if I'd stumbled across Chester on his own, I probably would have passed. Now that I have him, I'm even sadder to admit, I actually find that I dig how ridiculous [and awesome!] he is.

I may even keep an eye out for his trollish band-mates.

The Wonderful Week of Toys: Day Three

And here's another relic from my childhood that was salvaged from the local thrift shop.

Long before there was Transformers: Rescue Bots, way back in the mid-'80s, Hasbro utilized its recent acquisition, the subsidiary Playskool, to release My First Transformers. A trio of brightly colored vehicles that could, uh, transform into things that sorta' resembled robots in disguise. There was a race-car, a jet, and this guy right here, who was affectionately referred to as Dump Truck.

I never owned Dump Truck before; already at an age where the real Transformers appealed to me more. I did, however, have a younger cousin who did have him. So, despite my love for Soundwave and Grimlock and those pesky Insecticons, there was still something totally appealing about their primary-colored, safe-for-most-ages "little brother". I have pretty fond memories of time spent at my aunt and uncle's, casually transforming Dump Truck back and forth between his two modes.

Here he is in robot-mode, and yeah, he's not nearly as impressive as Optimus Prime or Omega Supreme. Hell, even Bumblebee gives poor Dump Truck a run for his energon cubes. Still, I adore his simplicity and the fact that he shares ties with one of my favorite childhood properties.

Unfortunately, the decal on mine is in rough shape, but I still get a huge kick out of his adorable faction symbol. He's not quite an Autobot, but maybe he'll get there when he's a little older.

The Wonderful Week of Toys: Day Two

Oh man, this guy.

He probably doesn't look like much, I know, but he may go down as one of my all-time favorite finds. Released by a Chinese company called Dor Mei sometime in the '80s, this ankylosaurus is an absolute dead-ringer for one that I owned as a child. Like a lot of young boys, I grew up totally obsessed with dinosaurs and giant monsters; a massive fan of King Kong (1933) and the Godzilla series of films. Hell, I even used to rent the British-produced Godzilla knock-off, Gorgo (1961), pretty frequently on VHS.

Despite the overwhelmingly awesome selection of toy-lines available during the decade, one thing that was sorely lacking in the 1980s was a series of legitimate "kaiju" toys. Sure, there were bootlegs galore; dozens of different scaled Godzilla replicas. Some looked pretty authentic, but most were light-years away from the real thing. That didn't bother me at all. I loved my Godzilla knock-off, even despite his outrageous shade of blue.

Likewise, this chipper-looking fella worked perfectly as a stand-in for The Big G's best pal, Anguirus.

When I saw him last week, sitting on a shelf surrounded by beat-up Imaginext Batcaves and broken remote control trucks, I knew that he was coming home with me. I only wish I still had that baby-blue, bootleg Godzilla and a tub full of Legos, so I could recreate those childhood days of devastation.

The Wonderful Week of Toys: Day One

Is there anybody out there..?

I sure hope so. Not that I'd blame anyone for jumping ship, though, what with the infrequency of posts and the increasingly long periods in-between. Few and far between, man. Close only counts in horse-shoes and hand grenades. Or something like that.

In an attempt to jump-start this dead or dying blog, I'm gonna try my hand at a theme-week; seven straight days of posts that may possibly be mildly amusing and/or the slightest bit interesting. We dream big here at The Trash Pile, kids. Don't you dare ever say otherwise.

You see, and some of you might remember this, we're heading into my absolute favorite time of year. There's already been glimpses of spooky cereals and fun-size Milky Ways, but we're still a little time away from hanging the fake cobwebs and carving pumpkins. The plan is to build up a reserve of scary, thrilling things to post about in October, while still taking time to pay tribute to the non-Halloween trash that happens to come along, too. That's gonna mean more posts, more of my inane ramblings, more more more.

The only problem, the one thing that threatens to derail those plans, is that I obviously lack the ability to stay consistent. To post frequently, to, well, to keep the train rolling, since apparently we're stuck on a locomotive metaphor. I am the worst kind of conductor, it seems, and you're unfortunately along for the ride. As long as you choo-choo-choose to stick around, that is.

So, yes, let's ignore that last bit of bullshit and get going with the first entry in The Wonderful Week of Toys.

Originally released in 1985, smack in the middle of The Masters of the Universe toy-line, is Thunder Punch He-Man. One of the many variations of He-Man created for the line's seven-year run, this particular version featured a backpack that could be loaded with caps, allowing a "thunderous" blast with each punch thrown. Not pictured are his two weapons, his trusty Power Sword and a new-design shield, which were molded in a mustard-gold plastic.

I never owned the Thunder Punch-version as a kid, but I was totally content with the bare-bones original release. This guy pictured above was found in a grab-bag at my local thrift shop a couple weeks back, packed along with another of this week's upcoming highlights. He-Man's pretty battle-worn; you can clearly see where the paint has faded away on his face and hair. He's also lacking his thunder-punching abilities, the backpack gone to Sorceress knows where.

Still, there's something about him that I really enjoy. He's only one of three Masters of the Universe figures I own these days, something I'm hoping to change in my collecting future. It's safe to say, though, that he'll probably end up my default He-Man from here on out.

Playing With Pizza, Fighting With Food

If we're breaking radio silence after three-plus weeks, you gotta imagine it's for the most important of reasons. An explanation of where I've been hiding away all this time! The reasons why there hasn't been any of the weekly Bogdanovich Challenge updates in over a month! Something! Anything worth the time it took to finish this paragraph!

Nah, bro.

I'm here to talk toys. The trashiest toys from my youth. The totally bizarre, bottom-of-the-barrel junk that could only appeal to the weirdest kids on the block. In a decade filled with plastic army ants, half-naked barbarian princes and transforming boom-boxes, these were the absolute strangest action figures you'd find hanging on the pegs. Or cluttering up the bargain bins.

That's right, guys and dolls, it's the Food Fighters.

Released by Mattel, this toy-line featured several anthropomorphic food-items with military skills that would send John Rambo running for the hamburger hills. The two warring factions, the heroic Kitchen Commandos and their villainous rivals, The Refrigerator Rejects, battled for dominance in kitchens across the globe during the late '80s. However, without the benefit of an accompanying cartoon or comic book, the line was shelved after only a single wave of figures [and a couple vehicles] were produced.

This is another fine example of brilliantly bizarre toys that I never owned, but so desperately longed for, as a kid. Instead, I was reduced to drooling, green-with-envy, over the handful of Food Fighters that the brothers across the street from me owned. It's a recurring thing from my youth; envious of the silly, stupid stuff that other kids in the neighborhood had.

So, when I noticed that Nerd Rage Toys had listed quite a few of these deadly and delicious soldiers-of-misfortune on the cheap, well, I couldn't resist pulling the trigger.

They weren't alone, however. I also managed to score a nearly-complete Pizza Face from the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles series. He's one of the few villains that I never originally owned, so I'm pretty psyched to add him to my budding TMNT-collection.

And, bonus points, he actually fits in quite nicely with the Food Fighters, too.

Watch out, Private Pizza..!!

Busy Getting Brain Like Krang

It might have been mentioned before that one of my collecting goals lately has been rebuilding my long-lost Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles collection. The one I sold a few years back for mere pennies and nickels and a whole lot of heartbreak. Of course, I've been taking it easy; mostly scoring big at the thrift shop with grab-bags and occasionally purchasing some deals from sites like Nerd Rage Toys. Oh, and eBay.

Unfortunately, eBay isn't quite the place it used to be. Years back, when I was originally trying to live nostalgically by buying back my childhood, I'd find larger lots of loose figures for reasonable prices. These days, well, not so much. That doesn't stop me from wasting hours on scouring the site, though, in a mad, desperate search for the best possible purchases.

And, every now and then, I stumble across an oddity that I have to have. That I can't possibly pass on.

Like this fella here.

Yeah, he may sorta' resemble the vile Warlord from Dimension X that you remember from your youth, but this isn't the Krang that you and I grew up with. This predominantly purple-and-pink piece of plastic is the best kind of bootleg. Supposedly, according to the seller who listed it, this lovely knock-off was originally produced in Mexico. Wherever this brainy beauty hails from, it was clearly a labor of love and not just an attempt to make a quick buck by copying a "classic" TMNT action-figure. Or, actually, that may be exactly what it was. A poorly-made cash grab.

Well, I still love him.

Similar to the original Playmates' toy, this version features a fully-articulated robotic "walker" body. Both the arms and legs can move, although they are limited in range. And the protective, plastic bubble can be removed in order to unleash Krang on his unsuspecting foes, be they turtle or otherwise.

Unlike the real-deal, however, Krang himself doesn't feature any articulation. The toy from '89 featured the ability to rotate his tentacle "arms", which this one does not, though he is still able to wield his Brain-Drain Gun.

Overall, he's not a bad little addition to my burgeoning TMNT collection, but I still need to add an actual, Playmates-produced version of my favorite bad-brain. Someday, I suppose.

It's good to dream big.

Thirty-Two

All I wanted for my tenth birthday was some Killer Tomatoes.

Yeah, the world was a strange place in 1991. Eastman and Laird's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles had already taken over and toy companies were scrambling to find the next big thing. Their search for potential properties led them to some strange places; ultra-violent, R-rated films like Robocop and The Toxic Avenger both received animated series and their own toy-lines. The same went for Bucky O'Hare, a small-press comic book from the mid-'80s.

And a B-movie spoof from the late '70s managed to squeeze out three sequels, a Saturday-morning cartoon, and a short-lived line of toys from Mattel. If you don't know which flick I'm talking about, well, shame on you, because it's Attack of the Killer Tomatoes (1978).

When my tenth birthday rolled around, there was already an Attack of the Killer Tomatoes cartoon airing as part of Fox's Saturday morning line-up. Mattel had just launched an accompanying toy-line a few months later and I was absolutely obsessed with both. The only problem that existed was my mom's refusal to allow me to own any of the toys. I'm still not sure why, since she never had any problem with me collecting Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figures, a line which featured characters like Pizza-Face and the Rat King.

Twenty-two years later and a dream has been achieved.

It does not make me feel like an adult.

I picked up Ketchuck, the drooling monstrosity seen above, a couple weeks back on eBay. Of all the Killer Tomatoes toys, he appealed to me most because of the companion PVC piece he originally came packaged with, Dr. Putrid T. Gangreen. In both the original films and the animated series, Doctor [or Professor] Gangreen was portrayed by the legendary John Astin. As a life-long fan of The Addams Family and Night Court and Eerie, Indiana, it's way too exciting for me to finally own one of his characters in toy-form.

This actually arrived in the mail today, another recent eBay score, along with a second carded piece I'll get to in a moment. This particular one is Tomacho, along with young Chad Finletter, the main "hero" of the cartoon series. I had no interest in keeping either toy in the package, despite how ridiculous and fun the card-back is. You can barely make it out, but there's a clearance/mark-down price tag from the now defunct Child World/Children's Palace, which brings back far too many happy memories.

I did own one toy from the Killer Tomatoes line when I was a kid and it's the one above. Thanks to some clever subterfuge, I managed to score Beefsteak, packaged along with Uncle Wilbur [and his dumb parachute..! Tomatoes! Tomatoes!], for my birthday. One of my aunts used to work part-time at a local Caldor store and she would occasionally allow me to pop in and pick out a toy or candy bar or comic book. It was during one such visit that I convinced her that what I wanted most for my foray into the double-digit ages was a murderous, plastic fruit/vegetable. The ploy worked and I remember opening gifts at my grandparents' house the day after my birthday.

And I clearly remember the distinct look of disgust on my mom's face when I unwrapped this particular present.

Beefsteak disappeared from my collection only a short time later.

I never forgave my mom for her obvious betrayal.