Being a toy-collector gives you certain quirks. You pick-up obscure comic character references because they made that one toy 30 years ago. When your girlfriend gets a longing look in her eyes for a Malibu Stacy Doll (with Hat!), you have "a guy" on speed-dial who can hook you up with the goods. Unfortunately, not all the quirks make you look so suave. Some make you quiver and shiver and cry rivers of tears because you are so terrified of certain things, things so mundane to most, but evil to your trained, experienced eyes. Read-on to find out what are some of the seemingly ordinary items collectors most dread!

Discovery of Your Secret Hot-Girl Collection
At some point in every geeky toy-collector's life, he wonders: What if I started collecting toys of sexy ladies? If he so chooses this path, he soon finds himself justifying: Well, I might as well collect Elvira and Vampirella statues too! The habit snowballs, and Superman is slowly forced off to the edge the shelf, to be inevitably replaced with Sailor Moon gashapon. The $100 statue of Moon Knight is boxed away to make room for the $400 statue of Emma Frost wearing dental floss as a costume. Soon, your home is brimming with boobs, and then your niece asks if she can come over after-school and wait for her mom to pick her up. You begin a mad dash to cover-up all the naughty collectibles, why did you have to buy so many bikini cat-girls!? WHY!? You toss everything you can into a closet, and then it hits you: How am I going to cover-up the life-size statue of Red Sonja!?

...and why did I have to lose her removable chainmail? 

Vaccums and Surprise Cleanings
Nothing makes a collector crap his pants and shoot up a flight of stairs faster than the sound of of an unauthorized vaccuum in their room! This is no joke, DO NOT trespass into a collector's room and start touching their stuff! It doesn't matter if there are cobwebs all over the Legos, don't you dare dust them! Every toy-nut knows where all the bits and pieces of each figure are, they know when something is amiss; And nothing puts the Fear of God in us more than the potential horror of losing even one precious piece! Did you know, flies have the ability to detect corpses from over 30 miles away? As soon as something dies, and I mean the minute it falters, flies from all over begin to migrate towards that feast. The second you drop Boba Fett's super-rare-exclusive Pink Blaster Rifle, our Spidey senses start tingling, and we will drive 1000 miles if we have to to stop your shanannigans and be all over your ass with a flaming broomstick. Go ahead! Just you try it!

Meeting Other Weirdoes Like You
There is a brief moment of awkwardsness that engulfs collectors when they meet another in the toy-aisle. They look each other over, prodding to determine what line they're after, and when it turns out they are there for the same reason, any chance of civility is destroyed. Potential life-long friendships are turned to bitter animosity when Zhu Zhu Pets are on the line! Where could this fiend have stashed away the precious Pit Commando? I think I saw him return a 5-pack! He must have swapped out all the figures and replaced them with Pez dispensers! What kind of shady deals must he have with the store's manager!? Conspiracy theories become all too easy to believe, and you are left with only one option: A fight to the death with those giant NERF swords by the RC vehicles.

Sunlight
No, seriously, sunlight can be a major problem for collectors! If sunlight hits toys directly for long periods of time, those poor toys will soon become sickly and discolored, especailly 12-inch figures with cloth accessories. Reds turn to pink, greens turn to yellows, Twilight figures sparkle with enough instensity to cause everything around them to burst into flames! So, next time you see a pale geeky toy-collector, know that it isn't because he's socially-awkward and never goes out, it's because he is a dedicated hobbyist, doing all he can to save his collection from certain oblivion.

Clearance Sales
Ravenously sought-after by parents with too many kids, clearance sales are signs of worry for collectors. "Why is this previously $10 Batman selling for $4 now? Why are stores trying to get rid of these figures? Lead paint? IS THIS LINE COMING TO AN END!? WHY!?" Collectors are a superstitious lot, and will jump to conclusions if they believe their favorite line to be threatened. If there is a sale, for any reason, they will assume the worst and email the hell out of customer support to confirm their suspicions.

Annoyingly, collectors will also complain that there aren't enough sales. "Why isn't this Batman $4 anymore! I saw it for $4 last month! You guys hate your customers!" No Sir, we just hate you.

Pets and Parents
Both Parents and Pets have absolutely no regard for your toy-collection's well-being. They don't care if you spent $400 on that Batgirl bust they just snapped the ear off of, it's just a toy to them. They are cold, heartless ghouls, always looking for a way to destroy your treasured trophies. And there's always the underlying contempt: Why did you spend $400 on a half-naked Ms. Marvel bust? Why didn't you spend those $400 on a nice sweater for your cousin Biff? Why didn't you spend that money on a new scratching-post and litter box for Mittens? Why didn't I get diamond earrings from you!? Duh! Because Ms. Danvers is frikkin' hot! And last time I checked, you weren't exactly the hottest thing on the block, mom!

Losing a Job
Granted, no one likes losing a steady job and are afraid of the consequences, but toy-collectors fear this for different reasons than most. It's not because the rent is due or there's no food and they only have 2 bucks in quarters in their pocket, no, it's because Wave 6 of G.I. Joe is coming out in 7 months and there's no money to pre-order it! I gotta wait for it to hit Toys R Us like the rest of the chumps!? Don't they know who I am!?

Normal people want money for gas and school, but these guys want it for shipping and accessories for their Cobra troops. Who cares about about school, I can go next semester, the Commander needs these WMDs NOW! I can always move into my parent's basement, survive off of Taco Bell sauce, and post shady things on various websites for money with GoogleCash! Collectors have warped priorities, but can you blame them? Sure the car needs repairs, but getting that sweet limited edition orange repaint of a B.A.T. for only $200 is a once in a lifetime opportunity! Time to get a bank loan! And if you googled "Orange B.A.T." because you wanted to buy one, slap yourself right now. You have a problem, druggie. 

The Thing That Should Not Be
There is a force in the universe that complicates the lives of toy-enthusiasts everywhere. It strikes in plain sight to make your blood boil at your inability to combat it. This force is called "Soli's Revenge".

You see, billions of years ago, when pirates still ruled the oceans, eskimos rode around on whales instead of Sea-Doos, and everyone kept swimming around in circles for fear of falling off the edge of the world, there was a young girl named Soli. She was a poor girl living with her aunt in one of the many undiscovered corners of the frozen world. A traveler passed by their home once, shocked to see anyone living in such a remote region. He was a merchant, and needing to lighten his load, gifted her with a wooden doll. It was the prettiest thing the little girl had ever seen. The little girl cherished it, loved it for all that it was, promised never to be separated from it, until the day Gold-Brow the Pirate King and his crew happened upon her shack.

Gold-Brow demanded the doll of Soli and grabbed it, but Soli would have none of it and struggled to keep the doll in her possession. Outraged, Gold-Brow drew a long dagger and slashed at the little girl, but missed and cleaved the doll's legs, shattering them so it would never stand again. Soli was crushed even more so. Gold-Brow, seething and not wanting anything less than mint condition, ordered the Aunt to be drowned and the little girl's legs to be broken, to reflect her heinous defiance.

Leaving them for dead, the Pirate King and his crew sailed away to tell stories of the Deadly Ice Maidens they faced and how they triumphantly dispatched the vile things. Soli died soon after, but not before uttering a curse upon the Brigands. For as long as the Pirate-blood ran in the veins of mankind, no toy-collection would ever be free of toppling toys! (Yeah, pretty lame, but what do you expect from a little girl!?) Then, a giant Ice-Squid wrapped its tentacles around her frozen remains and ate her like a choco-banana on a stick.

Gold-Brow and his crew raped and pillaged till the Age of Pirates came to an end, but not before spreading their cursed seed across the globe. It is estimated that 95% of all people in the world today carry some fraction of Gold-Brow's blood in them, and so, are suceptible to the Soli's Revenge.

It is also believed that this same force is responsible for the bland and boring poses action figures have in the display cases at major comic and toy conventions. It's also responsible for bad paint-jobs, crappy QC, and the unholy pact Mattel forged with Wal-Mart to bring misery to colectors everywhere.


Losing Yourself in the Hobby, and the Reasons For It
I think, there comes a time in every collector's life when they reflect upon why they enjoy accumulating vast amounts of figures. It can be argued that people collect little plastic people because they feel safer in their company than in the company of strangers. You can hang-out with Green Lantern instead of the smelly kid down the block. You can ask Lady Death where she sheathes her dagger without any danger of having your eyes clawed-out. There is a comfort in being surrounded by these people and not having to worry about one of them stabbing you in the back. There is peace. There is serenity. And in that serene moment, there is joy.

Joy within your colorful, but fake, existance instead of the constant fear exuding from every crack in the dead cold realm outside your cage. There is no shelf-space in the real world for a toy-collector if collecting is all he does. The sad truth is, the real world is not a place for toys. It is harsh, oppressive, and crushes the weak like so much brittle plastic. If you are content substituting unpredictably-dangerous people with the stoic avatars on your desk, if you are content with the excuse that at least you're not doing drugs or harm to any other, if you have no desire to mingle with humanity and instead control the destinies of the inhuman creatures lining your bedroom walls in an attempt to forget the fact that you cannot control your own, then you are either to be praised for your benign nature, or pitied for your cowardice.

Do you collect because you can control every aspect of these plastic men's lives? By saving Conan from a demon's grip, does it satiate your God-Complex in times when you know there are no Gods amung us? What of when you decide to destroy an entire LEGO kingdom in the name of your hero-warrior's cause? Was that to end an oppresion, or impose your own? What does this say about MOC collectors: Shielding their people from horrors with a protective shell, or cruelly keeping them captive in their plastic cells?

The life of a toy-collector is not as simple as it may seem. There are pit-falls at every turn, spilled soap in every aisle, little children crashing into your nether-regions at every store, there is no rest for mind or wallet. And most often, the most sinister dangers come from the recesses of the collector's own deluded mind.   

-DrNightmare

~DrNightmare is a free-lance writer, whoring lending himself to the aid of any seeking his talents. His qualifications are questionable, but the character and quality of his work leaves no question that he is one messed-up dude. He leads a simple life with few enemies and fewer friends. He may also be carted off to jail in a few weeks by court-order, so that would kinda suck. Lol.

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