Curse of the Furbie

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There was a girl named Lisa, with a room full of toys,
Her dolls, her bears, and action figures brought her joy.
But the one she loved the most, with its chirpy little sound,
Was the Furbie by her side.
She’d talk and she’d laugh, feeding it with care,
In its cute little eyes, she’d find a friend right there.
But one dark night, as the moonlight filled the room,
The Furbie spoke words that spelled out doom.
"I’m not your friend," it said with a growl,
"I’m here for your soul, and I’ll take it now."
Oh, the Furbie’s curse, it came alive,
Toys turned wicked in the night.
The legend lives, don’t you forget,
The Furbie’s out there, it’s not over yet.
Lisa screamed, but no one could hear,
The Furbie’s eyes glowed bright with fear.
It leaped and clawed, tore her apart,
Left her toys, but stole her heart.
In the morning light, they found her cold,
The Furbie gone, the tale untold.
But whispers echoed through the town,
Of toys that lived and hunted down.
"I’m not your friend," it said with a growl,
"I’m here for your soul, and I’ll take it now."
Oh, the Furbie’s curse, it came alive,
Toys turned wicked in the night.
The legend lives, don’t you forget,
The Furbie’s out there, it’s not over yet.
On the screen, it stared them down,
With menacing eyes, the eerie sound.
"I have returned, to claim what’s mine,"
The Furbie’s wrath, a twisted sign.
Towns were shattered, lives erased,
No one escaped the toy’s embrace.
The parents watched in frozen fright,
As Furbie danced in the dying light.
Years went by, and the tale grew old,
A distant memory, no longer told.
But those who knew, who saw its face,
Would warn their children, just in case.
"Beware the toys that seem so sweet,
For hidden dangers lie beneath.
Too good to be true, it might just be,
A curse that lives in secrecy."
Oh, the Furbie’s curse, it came alive,
Toys turned wicked in the night.
The legend lives, don’t you forget,
The Furbie’s out there, it’s not over yet.
Years may pass, but the story’s told,
Of Lisa’s room, and the Furbie’s hold.
So be careful what you bring inside,
For toys like these may never die.
But as time passed, a new generation emerged, one that had never heard of the Furbie or its reign of terror. And so, the cycle began again.
Oh, the Furbie waits, with glowing eyes,
To haunt again, beneath the skies.
The legend grows, it’s far from done,
A curse reborn.
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