Not bad… for a human
In 1980, when I was five years old, I got a xenomorph toy for Christmas.
Well, at the time I suppose it would have still been called an Alien, since the “xenomorph” term would be coined until Aliens six years later. It was a monstrous, horrifying thing that stood two feet tall, with another foot or so of convoluted, vertebral tail behind it. It was jet black all over, except for its teeth, claws, and tips of its four dorsal protusions, which were instead painted with in glow-in-the dark green. It’s elongated cranium had a small lever in the back that, when depressed, caused the xenomorph’s jaw to open and its secondary mandibles — the biting tongue — to extend out. It had posable arms and legs, but really, no matter how you move the thing, it always appeared to be hunched over and ready to pounce, flashing its eery green claws and homicidal grin.
God, I hated that thing.
It was creepy and monstrous, and I vaguely remember the box it cam in showing pictures of the chest burster and face hugger scenes from the movie, permanently scarring my five-year-old psyche. At night, it would disappear into the shadows except for the faint glow of its teeth and claws and spines. I would always catch a glimpse of its hideous form out of the corner of my eye in the dark, yet when I tried to look directly at it, it would almost disappear entirely, only to be spied out of the corner of my eye again moments later, which gave the uncomfortable sensation of being stalked by the thing. In fact, most nights I locked it in my closet, usually under a pile of day-glow yellow underwear so that I’d be sure to see it moving if it escaped. At least, I hope they were day-glow undies, but that doll scared the living piss out of me, so I can’t be too sure.
In fact, the only thing I did with the toy was make it attack my sister’s dollies, as she was the only person in the house more terrified of the thing than I was.
Eventually my mom surmised that I was terrified of the plastic predator, and she one day unceremoniously dumped it in the garbage, and I was inexpressibly grateful to her for soing so.
Of course, time passed and I eventually became of the fan of the Alien movies (well, the first three, anyway), and I find myself from time to time scouring old toy shoppes and kick-knack stores, hoping to find one of those classic Alien toys, although to this day I have been unsuccessful in my quest.
I do, however, think this is a pretty close second.
