Toy Sob Story

(I am working at the customer service desk in a toy store, when a red-faced angry looking parent comes running up to me.)

Parent: “What kind of witchcraft you all got running here?!”

Me: “Uh… pardon?”

Parent: “The toys! THE TOYS! You’re selling f****** possessed toys?!”

Me: “Possessed?”

Parent: “They’re alive! They move when you’re not looking, and they talk!”

Me: “What is giving you that impression, ma’am?”

Parent: “My son was surrounded, attacked and threatened by a whole bunch of them! He went crazy and started running down the street!”

Me: “Oh, my. Well, that’s—”

Parent: “He won’t eat! He won’t go in his room! He’s a complete wreck! We put him in therapy and he blabbered on about the toys coming to life! They put him in a mental hospital! He’s been there for months and they won’t let him out! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!”

Me: “All our fault?”

Parent: “Yes! You sell toys! Toys put my son in the loony bin! I demand compensation!”

Me: “I’m sorry ma’am, but that isn’t possible. I’m sorry about your son, but unless you have a receipt that proves a product you purchased from us was faulty, there’s nothing we can do.”

Parent: “This is ridiculous! I’m calling corporate!”

(She storms out, screaming at all the toys to stop watching her as she goes. Before I can even begin to process what has happened, my manager pages me.)

Manager: “[My Name], please come to the back room. The Buzz Lightyears have mysteriously tried escaping again…”