For reasons I have yet to fully understand, I spent a significant chunk of time yesterday in "Build-A-Bear".
If you have been fortunate enough to escape this concept, here:
http://www.buildabear.co.uk/
I lasted about 10 minutes before my wife had to remove me. The reasons follow:
1- Upon entering the first, and I mean the fucking first thing I see is a giant My Little Pony. Which looks exactly like the one from that picture. It's being examined by a man in his late 30's. Unlike most patrons, this man does not appear to have a child with him. I managed to suppress the laugh to a snort.
2- The concept of the place is unsettling. You are surrounded initially by the skins of empty stuffed toys. You hand pick your 3rd world made cuddly toy and queue to allow someone to fill the skin with whatever crap it is they use for this. Asbestos wool or something I think. Looks like it at least. They insisted it isn't. Anyway, this whole procedure takes a surprisingly long time for the size of toy you are actually getting. The main objective here is for the filler to upsell you the various outfits, voiceboxes and other assorted add-ons that can be had for very reasonable prices each but end up at quite alarming numbers when added together. The stealth money extraction is handled quite nicely.
3 - Now in possession of your stuffed toy, you are directed towards various stations where you can dress and add various accessories. By this point you should be acutely aware that you're basically in Walt Disney's idea of a sweatshop. Every tag ID's the produce as made by countries with questionable labour laws and rights. This is where the horror started to kick in for me. Kids making crap to send around the world for other kids to assemble. Around the same time as this realisation, I noticed I was being moved gently but forcefully to the exit by my wife.
4 - Outside, being bathed in day-glo horror, I was kind of numb. That many primary colours will do that to a body. That is, until I heard my wife pay for the memento of child labour rights violations.
I suspect that this place is actually a minor outpost of hell trying to break through to our reality. All other explanations seem lacking.
ETA- My wife is now threatening to never take me shopping again. I pray to all gods that this threat is carried out.
I love the idea of Build-A-Bear, but will never pay the prices for one.
I walked into a store once and immediately realized that I could get basically the same stuff from the craft store for less.
The one I went to was very absent of other customers at the time as well. You could see the disappointment on the staff faces when we walked out, we must've been the first people to come in that day.
I like the concept, but fuck those prices.
Quote from: Sita on February 03, 2014, 12:17:58 PM
I love the idea of Build-A-Bear, but will never pay the prices for one.
I walked into a store once and immediately realized that I could get basically the same stuff from the craft store for less.
The one I went to was very absent of other customers at the time as well. You could see the disappointment on the staff faces when we walked out, we must've been the first people to come in that day.
Must be commission sales.
On fucking teddy bear parts from China. :x
I disapprove of Build-A-Bear for the same reason I disapprove of Mongolian restaurants.
And that is...?
I think the concept is creepy as fuck. No price could be low enough.
Quote from: Tiddleywomp Cockletit on February 03, 2014, 05:15:15 PM
And that is...?
When I pay my good American dollars for something, I don't expect to have to build it myself. Nobody fucking warned me about Mongolian joints. GREAT. Roger in a PUBLIC food preparation frenzy. AT WHAT POINT DID THIS LOOK LIKE A GOOD IDEA?
I PAID MONEY. WHERE IS
EDIBLE FOOD?
Quote from: Dirty Old Uncle Roger on February 03, 2014, 05:16:43 PM
Quote from: Tiddleywomp Cockletit on February 03, 2014, 05:15:15 PM
And that is...?
When I pay my good American dollars for something, I don't expect to have to build it myself. Nobody fucking warned me about Mongolian joints. GREAT. Roger in a PUBLIC food preparation frenzy. AT WHAT POINT DID THIS LOOK LIKE A GOOD IDEA?
I PAID MONEY. WHERE IS EDIBLE FOOD?
Little kids in China will make shitty toys for a bowl of greasy noodles and a dorm, but americans will PAY to do it.
Quote from: Tiddleywomp Cockletit on February 03, 2014, 05:04:09 PM
Quote from: Sita on February 03, 2014, 12:17:58 PM
I love the idea of Build-A-Bear, but will never pay the prices for one.
I walked into a store once and immediately realized that I could get basically the same stuff from the craft store for less.
The one I went to was very absent of other customers at the time as well. You could see the disappointment on the staff faces when we walked out, we must've been the first people to come in that day.
Must be commission sales.
On fucking teddy bear parts from China. :x
From what I could see of the pricing structures and the way the product was sold (always talk to the kid, never the adult for example) I would be amazed if the staff were not of some kind of commission structure. That's another layer of horror. Try and think of a reasonable way to explain to a kid in a sweatshop that kids on the other side of the world will do their job for fun and the salesperson will make more in commission from one sale than you will in the week.
This is fucking madness. I honestly tried to think of something redeeming about the place for balance but I've got nothing.
At best, it's a money suction device of questionable ethics.
At worst, it's a cynical cash grab working on insane margins exploiting the idea of what "creative" means. No, picking from 3 options is not creative. It's not any more creative when there are 30 options. You're picking your favourite, this is not a creative exercise. It's also where the worst of the internet picks up their fucktoys so I can see no value here at all.
Hmmm.
Build-A-Realdoll.
There's money to be made with that, I think.
Holy shit.
I think we've struck gold.
If you want to get this rolling, I'll front cash money, right now.
My initial response turned out to be incredibly labor intensive and meaningless to people younger than, oh, 30 or so.
Instead, you get this.
There was a toy Back In The Day, where you had bas-relief pieces of plastic of a head, torso, and legs of a woman. There were many varieties. Long hair, short hair, halter top, blouse, skirt, slacks. You put these pieces in a frame of molded plastic, placed a sheet of paper on top, and then dragged a crayon over it, resulting in an "original" fashion design.
But what you couldn't do was sketch. You couldn't say, "the blouse is nice, but I want something off the shoulder." You took what was given.
Insert some metaphor about what's wrong with kids today has always been wrong with kids today.
Quote from: LMNO, PhD (life continues) on February 03, 2014, 06:14:46 PM
My initial response turned out to be incredibly labor intensive and meaningless to people younger than, oh, 30 or so.
Instead, you get this.
There was a toy Back In The Day, where you had bas-relief pieces of plastic of a head, torso, and legs of a woman. There were many varieties. Long hair, short hair, halter top, blouse, skirt, slacks. You put these pieces in a frame of molded plastic, placed a sheet of paper on top, and then dragged a crayon over it, resulting in an "original" fashion design.
But what you couldn't do was sketch. You couldn't say, "the blouse is nice, but I want something off the shoulder." You took what was given.
Insert some metaphor about what's wrong with kids today has always been wrong with kids today.
I remember those! Always thought they were fun if at a friends house (never wanted a set of my own) but got boring really quick. Like in 5 minutes quick.
Inevitably we'd end up taking the rubbings and change the patterns on the shirts and skirts. I remember that I once made a flower pattern into a colony of jellyfish.
I prefer to allow my son to be creative and independent with his use of asbestos wool.
The concept of build a bear seems like an incredible waste of time. The indulgance of a culture for whom giant box stores that are FILLED TO THE BRIM with every kind of plastic dream imaginable is simply not enough. Our children must have customized, wholly unique, special snowflake representations of their innermost desires, in cuddly animal format.
Build A Bear is a macro version of what it sells, it is the concept that your every whim should be met with an eternal plastic grin incarnate.
My son's brother had one. He was interested in it for, oh, a whole five minutes.
I like how you gloss over the part where you bring the bear to life, Junkenstein. Having observed this ritual before, purely for scientific reasons . . . relating to NaNoWriMo . . . I was witness to the bizarre rites that take empty skin sack to 'living' toy.
The part where you take the little stuffed heart they put in all the toys and rub it on various parts of your body to imbue it with characteristics you desire your toy to have. Your forehead to make it smart. Your tummy so it will never go hungry. Give it a kiss so your toy will know love, etc.
Macabre as fuck.
Then there's the part where you have to name and register it like you would an adopted child and then you get a little certificate and adoption papers.
This was before the MLP thing. When I saw the MLP in there, last time, my roommate slapped her hand over my mouth to stop the hideous laughter and pulled me away before the mall cops could sedate me with some Starbucks.
Quote from: Cardinal Pizza Deliverance. on February 04, 2014, 01:05:41 AM
I like how you gloss over the part where you bring the bear to life, Junkenstein. Having observed this ritual before, purely for scientific reasons . . . relating to NaNoWriMo . . . I was witness to the bizarre rites that take empty skin sack to 'living' toy.
The part where you take the little stuffed heart they put in all the toys and rub it on various parts of your body to imbue it with characteristics you desire your toy to have. Your forehead to make it smart. Your tummy so it will never go hungry. Give it a kiss so your toy will know love, etc.
Macabre as fuck.
Then there's the part where you have to name and register it like you would an adopted child and then you get a little certificate and adoption papers.
This was before the MLP thing. When I saw the MLP in there, last time, my roommate slapped her hand over my mouth to stop the hideous laughter and pulled me away before the mall cops could sedate me with some Starbucks.
Someone needs to inform our evangelical brethren that Build A Bear requires its employees to practice witchcraft. :lulz:
You all need to be reminded of this right now http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AdYaTa_lOf4
You didn't mention the public calisthenics to imbue the bear with "life". A few deviant co workers went on for awhile about the level of trite / public humiliation going on.
"Lucy."
She continued staring at the mountain of fluff, mesmerized.
"Lucy!"
The girl snapped out of it, shaking her little head lightly. She looked up to me for a moment, her eyes blue and inquisitive, then back to the stuffing, and then to the high school kid assisting us.
"Now, Lucy, what were we going to ask the nice man?"
"Um," she said. Her little brown pigtails whipped about in their bows as she repeated her previous gazing. "Um, can I put something in him?"
The high schooler smiled at her and gave me that knowing cute-kid-she-must-be-a-handful look and I gave him that you-have-no-idea-kid-run-RUN. You get that all the time with a girl like Lucy. He bent over, crouching to her level. I had to admire him getting eye to eye – Build-a-Bear had him trained well.
"Of course you can, sweetheart," he said. "We encourage you to put something small that you love in the bear. It helps make it special."
"I want him to be special!" She spun in her pretty black dress and she ran outside the store to the mall proper.
The young man leapt up, startled, and moved to stop her. "Hey wait," he said, and he looked at me in a panic. I eased him back with a gesture. A moment later, Lucy came back.
She'd brought a friend. Her tiny hand was woven into a much larger one, paler, and the dreamy eyed twenty-something it was attached to. The woman wore a formless gray shirt without tags or brands, tucked into similar pants and simple, stained tennis shoes. She didn't say anything in greeting but had a vague smile going in all directions at once. She stopped where Lucy stopped, right in front of the clerk.
"Who's your friend," the clerk asked.
"Oh her?" Lucy looked up at the girl as though noticing her for the first time. "She's nobody."
The clerk laughed. "Come on now, she can't be nobody." He stood back up to adult level and met a gaze that went right through him. He shrunk back down to Lucy level. She was waiting for him patiently.
"She's an acolyte," Lucy said. "She's nobody," she affirmed.
"Uhm," the clerk said, "alright well what was it you wanted to put inside your bear?"
"Hold on," Lucy said. She grabbed the acolyte's hand, gripping it tightly in her left hand. In the same motion, her right hand flashed behind her back and beneath that pretty black dress. It came back with a thin and wickedly curved knife. Before the clerk could even react, the knife sliced through the acolyte's wrist and neatly severed the hand.
"Oh God," the clerk cried. He fell backwards onto his rear, scrambling away. "Oh God," he repeated.
"Don't worry," I assured him, "I wouldn't give a knife that sharp to a little girl." I looked fondly down at my Lucy, "she's just really good with it." I patted her on her little blood spattered head. She beamed at the praise. Her acolyte was swaying on its feet, expressionless as ever.
Lucy bounced over to the fallen clerk. "I want to put this in my bear," she held the severed hand out to him.
"Oh God," he said. He was crying. "Oh God."
Lucy looked up at me quizzically. "Why does he keep saying that?" Troubled, she asked the clerk, "why do you keep saying that?"
"You – you – you," he stammered, "Oh God."
"Young man," I said, "if you aren't going to help my daughter I'm going to have to find someone who will."
"Oh God!"
I sighed. "Lucy, honey, did you bring the herbs?"
She nodded vigorously. She reached her hands into a little pouch in her dress and withdrew a handful of deadly nightshade.
"Good girl, and the candles?"
She reached down into her sock and pulled out a thin stub of black candle.
"Okay so you know what to do next, don't you?"
"Mmm," her mouth drew into a thin line with her tongue sticking out just a little while she thought, "I have the willing flesh, and the light from darkness, and the death from nature, and I need," she perked up. "Innocent blood!"
She casually flicked the ceremonial knife over at the still prone clerk. He screamed.
"It's okay," she told him. "It's okay," she comforted. She took the handful of nightshade and held it under the clerk's bleeding hand. "I don't need much."
"Very good, Lucy, so now what," I prompted.
She looked around the store, to the lifeless shells of a hundred possible teddy bears. "Now I need a vessel!" She trotted around and around to find the right bear for her ritual. The big pink one with the red bow? The little white one with all that fuzzy fur? Finally, her eyes rested on the perfect one. It was a foot tall with reddish brown fur and little black eyes.
She plucked it from the shelf and placed it on the floor. She stuffed the acolyte's hand into it and sprinkled the bloody nightshade in a circle around it.
Lucy began to chant. And the clerk screamed.
EoC. :lulz:
One more reason to avoid the mall.
I've done it...and then I've done it again. And yet again...because my daughter's happiness is something she's really good at using to trick her old man.
Quote from: Eater of Clowns on February 04, 2014, 03:54:11 AM
"Lucy."
She continued staring at the mountain of fluff, mesmerized.
"Lucy!"
The snapped out of it, shaking her little head lightly. She looked up to me for a moment, her eyes blue and inquisitive, then back to the stuffing, and then to the high school kid assisting us.
"Now, Lucy, what were we going to ask the nice man?"
"Um," she said. Her little brown pigtails whipped about in their bows as she repeated her previous gazing. "Um, can I put something in him?"
The high schooler smiled at her and gave me that knowing cute-kid-she-must-be-a-handful look and I gave him that you-have-no-idea-kid-run-RUN. You get that all the time with a girl like Lucy. He bent over, crouching to her level. I had to admire him getting eye to eye – Build-a-Bear had him trained well.
"Of course you can, sweetheart," he said. "We encourage you to put something small that you love in the bear. It helps make it special."
"I want him to be special!" She spun in her pretty black dress and she ran outside the store to the mall proper.
The young man leapt up, startled, and moved to stop her. "Hey wait," he said, and he looked at me in a panic. I eased him back with a gesture. A moment later, Lucy came back.
She'd brought a friend. Her tiny hand was woven into a much larger one, paler, and the dreamy eyed twenty-something it was attached to. The woman wore a formless gray shirt without tags or brands, tucked into similar pants and simple, stained tennis shoes. She didn't say anything in greeting but had a vague smile going in all directions at once. She stopped where Lucy stopped, right in front of the clerk.
"Who's your friend," the clerk asked.
"Oh her?" Lucy looked up at the girl as though noticing her for the first time. "She's nobody."
The clerk laughed. "Come on now, she can't be nobody." He stood back up to adult level and met a gaze that went right through him. He shrunk back down to Lucy level. She was waiting for him patiently.
"She's an acolyte," Lucy said. "She's nobody," she affirmed.
"Uhm," the clerk said, "alright well what was it you wanted to put inside your bear?"
"Hold on," Lucy said. She grabbed the acolyte's hand, gripping it tightly in her left hand. In the same motion, her right hand flashed behind her back and beneath that pretty black dress. It came back with a thin and wickedly curved knife. Before the clerk could even react, the knife sliced through the acolyte's wrist and neatly severed the hand.
"Oh God," the clerk cried. He fell backwards onto his rear, scrambling away. "Oh God," he repeated.
"Don't worry," I assured him, "I wouldn't give a knife that sharp to a little girl." I looked fondly down at my Lucy, "she's just really good with it." I patted her on her little blood spattered head. She beamed at the praise. Her acolyte was swaying on its feet, expressionless as ever.
Lucy bounced over to the fallen clerk. "I want to put this in my bear," she held the severed hand out to him.
"Oh God," he said. He was crying. "Oh God."
Lucy looked up at me quizzically. "Why does he keep saying that?" Troubled, she asked the clerk, "why do you keep saying that?"
"You – you – you," he stammered, "Oh God."
"Young man," I said, "if you aren't going to help my daughter I'm going to have to find someone who will."
"Oh God!"
I sighed. "Lucy, honey, did you bring the herbs?"
She nodded vigorously. She reached her hands into a little pouch in her dress and withdrew a handful of deadly nightshade.
"Good girl, and the candles?"
She reached down into her sock and pulled out a thin stub of black candle.
"Okay so you know what to do next, don't you?"
"Mmm," her mouth drew into a thin line with her tongue sticking out just a little while she thought, "I have the willing flesh, and the light from darkness, and the death from nature, and I need," she perked up. "Innocent blood!"
She casually flicked the ceremonial knife over at the still prone clerk. He screamed.
"It's okay," she told him. "It's okay," she comforted. She took the handful of nightshade and held it under the clerk's bleeding hand. "I don't need much."
"Very good, Lucy, so now what," I prompted.
She looked around the store, to the lifeless shells of a hundred possible teddy bears. "Now I need a vessel!" She trotted around and around to find the right bear for her ritual. The big pink one with the red bow? The little white one with all that fuzzy fur? Finally, her eyes rested on the perfect one. It was a foot tall with reddish brown fur and little black eyes.
She plucked it from the shelf and placed it on the floor. She stuffed the acolyte's hand into it and sprinkled the bloody nightshade in a circle around it.
Lucy began to chant. And the clerk screamed.
:potd: :mittens:
OMG :eek: :aaa:
:mittens:
I would pay even more to actually SEE that
Thanks, folks. :lulz: I cranked that out in 20 minutes before I left work. There was a bit more I wanted to add in but was a little constrained for time:
"The fluorescent lights of the shop dimmed, then flickered, and finally sputtered out. The teddy floated in its circle lit only by the flicker of the black candle beneath. The clerk stammered, 'Wh-wha-what are you doing?'
Lucy looked at him, confused, 'I'm building a bear.'"
And EOC takes the gold.
Something stolen from a Spider's nightmare.
Game. Set. MAtch. :lulz:
Hot damn, EoC, that was pure gold. :lulz:
never trust a child in a black dress whose name is lucy(fer) :lulz:
Quote from: The Johnny on February 05, 2014, 06:06:34 PM
never trust a child in a black dress whose name is lucy(fer) :lulz:
You know, I actually didn't intend that connection, but good point!
Quote from: Eater of Clowns on February 04, 2014, 05:19:36 AM
Thanks, folks. :lulz: I cranked that out in 20 minutes before I left work. There was a bit more I wanted to add in but was a little constrained for time:
"The fluorescent lights of the shop dimmed, then flickered, and finally sputtered out. The teddy floated in its circle lit only by the flicker of the black candle beneath. The clerk stammered, 'Wh-wha-what are you doing?'
Lucy looked at him, confused, 'I'm building a bear.'"
Quote from: Eater of Clowns on February 04, 2014, 03:54:11 AM
"Lucy."
She continued staring at the mountain of fluff, mesmerized.
"Lucy!"
The girl snapped out of it, shaking her little head lightly. She looked up to me for a moment, her eyes blue and inquisitive, then back to the stuffing, and then to the high school kid assisting us.
"Now, Lucy, what were we going to ask the nice man?"
"Um," she said. Her little brown pigtails whipped about in their bows as she repeated her previous gazing. "Um, can I put something in him?"
The high schooler smiled at her and gave me that knowing cute-kid-she-must-be-a-handful look and I gave him that you-have-no-idea-kid-run-RUN. You get that all the time with a girl like Lucy. He bent over, crouching to her level. I had to admire him getting eye to eye – Build-a-Bear had him trained well.
"Of course you can, sweetheart," he said. "We encourage you to put something small that you love in the bear. It helps make it special."
"I want him to be special!" She spun in her pretty black dress and she ran outside the store to the mall proper.
The young man leapt up, startled, and moved to stop her. "Hey wait," he said, and he looked at me in a panic. I eased him back with a gesture. A moment later, Lucy came back.
She'd brought a friend. Her tiny hand was woven into a much larger one, paler, and the dreamy eyed twenty-something it was attached to. The woman wore a formless gray shirt without tags or brands, tucked into similar pants and simple, stained tennis shoes. She didn't say anything in greeting but had a vague smile going in all directions at once. She stopped where Lucy stopped, right in front of the clerk.
"Who's your friend," the clerk asked.
"Oh her?" Lucy looked up at the girl as though noticing her for the first time. "She's nobody."
The clerk laughed. "Come on now, she can't be nobody." He stood back up to adult level and met a gaze that went right through him. He shrunk back down to Lucy level. She was waiting for him patiently.
"She's an acolyte," Lucy said. "She's nobody," she affirmed.
"Uhm," the clerk said, "alright well what was it you wanted to put inside your bear?"
"Hold on," Lucy said. She grabbed the acolyte's hand, gripping it tightly in her left hand. In the same motion, her right hand flashed behind her back and beneath that pretty black dress. It came back with a thin and wickedly curved knife. Before the clerk could even react, the knife sliced through the acolyte's wrist and neatly severed the hand.
"Oh God," the clerk cried. He fell backwards onto his rear, scrambling away. "Oh God," he repeated.
"Don't worry," I assured him, "I wouldn't give a knife that sharp to a little girl." I looked fondly down at my Lucy, "she's just really good with it." I patted her on her little blood spattered head. She beamed at the praise. Her acolyte was swaying on its feet, expressionless as ever.
Lucy bounced over to the fallen clerk. "I want to put this in my bear," she held the severed hand out to him.
"Oh God," he said. He was crying. "Oh God."
Lucy looked up at me quizzically. "Why does he keep saying that?" Troubled, she asked the clerk, "why do you keep saying that?"
"You – you – you," he stammered, "Oh God."
"Young man," I said, "if you aren't going to help my daughter I'm going to have to find someone who will."
"Oh God!"
I sighed. "Lucy, honey, did you bring the herbs?"
She nodded vigorously. She reached her hands into a little pouch in her dress and withdrew a handful of deadly nightshade.
"Good girl, and the candles?"
She reached down into her sock and pulled out a thin stub of black candle.
"Okay so you know what to do next, don't you?"
"Mmm," her mouth drew into a thin line with her tongue sticking out just a little while she thought, "I have the willing flesh, and the light from darkness, and the death from nature, and I need," she perked up. "Innocent blood!"
She casually flicked the ceremonial knife over at the still prone clerk. He screamed.
"It's okay," she told him. "It's okay," she comforted. She took the handful of nightshade and held it under the clerk's bleeding hand. "I don't need much."
"Very good, Lucy, so now what," I prompted.
She looked around the store, to the lifeless shells of a hundred possible teddy bears. "Now I need a vessel!" She trotted around and around to find the right bear for her ritual. The big pink one with the red bow? The little white one with all that fuzzy fur? Finally, her eyes rested on the perfect one. It was a foot tall with reddish brown fur and little black eyes.
She plucked it from the shelf and placed it on the floor. She stuffed the acolyte's hand into it and sprinkled the bloody nightshade in a circle around it.
Lucy began to chant. And the clerk screamed.
Hey, QG, Holy nonsense?
ETA - And thanks guest that was reading this for some reason, I'd forgot about that and it's still gold.
Huh. Well I've sent this to three people I can think of outside of PD in the last few years. I guess it could be one of them? If not, then hey I hope they enjoyed it!
I fucked up the quote, but it's worth reading backwards for a whole new take.