Edger the Dummy Gets Fired

Edgar the dummy gets fired

My name is Chestnut the Clown and I do children’s comedy birthday shows. I have been doing this kind of work for more than 25 years. I use to do a simple magic show and balloon animals, but later during my career, I found out that if I learned how to do ventriloquism that I could make a lot more money.

In 2009 I bought an online course and started practicing in front of a mirror. I got pretty good and started looking for a wooden dummy. I wanted something unique and funny looking. I was surprised that they cost so much to buy. Some of the custom made dummies were selling for more than $1,500.

I decided to look for used dummies because they were much cheaper. I finally found one on Craig’s List that was perfect for my show. The lady who sold me the dummy was kind of strange. She said her husband used the dummy for many years before he passed away. She said the dummy’s name was Edger.

I told the lady, “well’s that fine, but I already had a name picked out for him. I was planning on calling him, Goober. The lady said something very strange to me, she said “Edgar isn’t going to like that at all.” At first, I thought she was just kidding, but I realized that she was actually serious.

After several months of practice, Goober was ready for show business.

I developed an entire personality for Goober and I decided to make him really stupid. The joke was always on him, and the kids loved the show. Each weekend I would do several kids’ shows with Goober, and he always got the biggest laughs. That’s OK with me because I got to keep all of the money.

I altered Goober’s wooden hands by screwing small alligator clips on them so that he could hold things. During my show, I would often get Goober to hold up cardboard signs.

I get a strange call from the lady who sold me the dummy

One morning I get a phone call, and it was from the lady who sold me, Goober. She was complaining because she said I called her in the middle of the night and hung up on her.

I told her, “you must be confused, I went to bed about 11 PM and slept all night long.” I double-checked my cell phone and sure enough, there was an outbound call placed at 2:34 AM.

She said, “I bet it was Edger.” What!? You mean “Goober?” She said. “I told you not to rename him, it would piss him off.” I thought to myself, this lady was really nuts, but then I couldn’t explain the phone call.

After I hung up the phone, I went to take a look at Goober, and he was out of his box. “Where the hell is he?” I found him in the living room, sitting in front of the TV.

This must be a practical joke! I bet my girlfriend did this, after all, she has a key to my place. There was simply no other explanation. I called and confronted her, but she swore she didn’t do anything.

Maybe I was going crazy? Did I make that call?

I have been known to sleepwalk when I was a kid, but I thought I grew out of it. What else could it be? Maybe I had Goober out of his box but just didn’t remember to put him back. I didn’t want my girlfriend to think I was going crazy, so I just dropped it.

For a few minutes, I was actually wondering if Goober was haunted, or perhaps possessed. I know that sometimes I think he is staring at me and I have to turn his head around so he can’t watch me. Maybe it’s me, maybe I am going crazy. I was starting to think that buying that dummy was a mistake, but then I do enjoy the extra money I was making.

Every once in a while, when I get bored, I actually talk to Goober. I make the excuse that I was just practicing, but in reality, I felt like I was starting to develop a relationship with him.

Sometimes I found myself blaming him if one of my shows went bad. I have to remind myself, that some kids are just freaked out by a wooden dummy, no matter how funny he was.

The cops are at my door

About a month later, everything was settling down and going back to normal, when I get a knock at my door at 1:00 in the morning. I yelled through the door, “Who is it?” The reply, “It’s the police”

What the hell do they want? I opened my door and two cops were standing at my door. They asked if I was alright? I said, “Why wouldn’t I be? What’s going on?”

One cop pointed out in front of the middle of the street, and there was my car, right in the middle of the road with the engine running. “What the hell?” The cops did a sobriety test on me because they thought that maybe I was drunk, and that’s where I parked my car.

No, I’m not drunk, and I have no idea how my car got in the middle of the street. I looked for my keys, but they were gone. I had to use my spare key to unlock the car door.

The police were standing right behind me, and when I opened the door, there was Goober, sitting in the driver’s seat, with his alligator clip hands holding on to the steering wheel.

The cops started laughing and assumed that this was some kind of prank.

I half-hardly laughed with them, but deep down, I was very disturbed. I didn’t believe this was a prank, I think that I am just going crazy. I put my car back into the driveway and put Goober back into his box.

The cops said, “tell whoever did this to cut it out. While it was funny, they have better things to do.”

That night I paced back and forth for hours, going over each possibility in my head. I decided to get to the bottom of this. There were only three possible answers.

Either I am going crazy, or someone is playing a prank on me, or Goober is really an evil possessed wooden dummy.

I decided to change my locks and buy extra dead-bolts for all my outside doors. I also decided to put a lock on Goober’s case, so that I could lock him up at night. Last but not least, I bought a pair of handcuffs so that I could cuff myself to my bedpost, so I couldn’t sleepwalk.

The dummy problems went away

I still wasn’t sure what was going on, but in doing all of the extra security stuff, I stopped the “Goober Nightmare.” I had a routine, every night I would lock all of the locks, and make sure Goober was locked in his case, then I would handcuff my left hand to my bedpost.

One night after doing three kid’s birthday party shows, I was extra tired, and just didn’t want to have to go through my nightly routine. I locked my doors, and handcuffed my hand to my bedpost, but forgot to lock Goober’s case.

The next morning I woke up and everything seemed fine, that is until I looked over and saw Goober laying next to me in bed. He had an eleven-inch kitchen knife alligator clipped to his right hand.

I screamed and jumped out of bed all in one move. I forgot that I was handcuffed and almost broke my wrist. I was terrified but somehow relieved that it wasn’t me. I wasn’t crazy. This damn wooden doll is possessed with an evil soul.

I took the knife out of Goober’s little wooden hand and unscrewed his alligator clips so that he couldn’t hold things anymore.

I called the lady who sold me Goober

Now I don’t think that she was so crazy, now it all makes sense. I told her the problems I was having and she said, “See, I told you not to rename him, I told you it would piss him off.” I asked her if she could take him back. She said, “No way in hell.”

In fact, she thought that Edger had killed her husband by suffocating him with a couch pillow after he fell asleep watching TV. She told the police her story, but they just thought she was crazy. She said, Why don’t just do what she did and sell him.

Time to end this, and get rid of Goober

I didn’t want to put someone else through this turmoil, so I decided to destroy him. That night I build a roaring fire in the fireplace. I took all of the metal parts out of Goober, and I threw him into the fire.

He started burning right away. His head caught on fire and started sizzling and popping, then it started hissing like a snake. Just when I thought it was all over, it let out a scream that made my floor shake.

It was so loud that my neighbors started coming out of their houses and looking up and down the street. It sounded like someone was being killed. Someone even called the cops, but they didn’t know it was coming from my house. I saw a cop car drive up and down the street several times, looking for a murder victim.

After the fire burned down, and the ashes cool off, I scooped up, what was left of Goober, and threw him into a dumpster behind a Taco Bell restaurant.

Three months have gone by without any more problems.

Everything is back to normal. I’m not crazy, and I no longer handcuff myself to my bedpost. I still perform at children’s birthday parties, but no longer use a dummy. Sometimes kids ask me “What happened to Goober?” I just say “I fired Him”