This Story takes place in 1993. Henry's parents feel bad that they haven't been paying much attention to him, so they end up getting him a Good Guy Doll to be his friend to the end. Of course he ends up getting the one that's possesed by Charles Lee Ray.


In Maine, a 12 year old boy known as Henry Evans, watched in annoyance as his eight year old sister, Connie was tucked into bed by Mom and Dad. Unknown to them; he was glaring deadly at them. His hands balled in a fist. He just wanted to march over to his annoying, pain in the ass sister and smuther her to death with the pillow.

He smiled as he thought about how good it felt when he killed his 3 year old brother, Richard, two years ago. The little pussy had it coming. He deserved to die. That Rubber Duck was HIS and he had no right to have it. Susan didn't even ask him if he'd be okay with them giving his Rubber Duck to the drooling, pathetic little dick.

That's right. He killed his own brother and he had no regrets. All Richard did was cry, scream and get all the attention. He went to his room and slammed the door which startled Susan and Wallace.

Henry plopped down on his bed and stared blankly at the ceiling. He missed the days when he was an only child. Before his stupid sister came along and way before stupid Richard, the good old days when it was just Henry. He sighed as he continued to stare into emptiness. You couldn't really blame him. He didn't have much to do and to make matters worse, it was freakin raining outside! It was pouring hard and it even thundered on and off causing Connie to scream. He would roll his eyes in annoyance. For fuck's sake! It was just thunder!

Out in the hall, Susan and Wallace glanced at Henry's door, worried. They also knew that they haven't been paying much attention to him lately. He couldn't go out and play in his Tree House cause it has been raining and Connie had a really bad cold so they had to pay more attention to her. That must have been hard on Henry. They felt bad.

"What should we do?" She asked her husband, eyes filled with concern.

He shrugged. "I'm sure we'll figure things out. The Nine O'clock News should be on."

They went downstairs to watch the Nine O'Clock News. The news was about how the Play Pals Company had decided to continue making Good Guy dolls, despite the bad publicity they got because of one Desturbed kid. He glanced at his wife and knew by the look on her face, what she was thinking. "Don't you think Henry's too old for a Good Guy doll?"

"I know but we wanted to get him one three years ago and if Richard was still alive," Tears began to slowly escape her eyelids as she thought about her deceased son. He would have been five years old and he would be really excited to have a Good Guy doll.

"I know. It's worth a shot." Wallace said.


Meanwhile in the Good Guy dolls factory, Chucky was being recreated because the Play Pals Company had decided to recontinue making Good Guy Dolls despite some people's concerns and some crazy kid named Andy who claimed his doll was possesed by Lakeshore Strangler, Charles Lee Ray.

"It's about damn time we continued making these dolls." Mr. Sullivan, the CEO of the company, said. "It's been three years and the rumors about these dolls should have died down by now, including a mentally unstabbled little boy's claims of his doll being possesed by a serial killer."

A male worker spoke; "I have the Good Guy doll that's 'haunted' should I hold on to it?" Before anyone could answer his question, his Cell Phone rang. "Hello?" A big smile spread across his face. "Well, it's been a long time since I've last heard from you, brother. What can I do for you?"

After he hung up, he put the phone back in his pocket. "My brother in law called. He wants me to mail them a Good Guy doll for their son, Henry."


A few days later, the package arrived and Wallace picked it up and brought it inside. "I really hope Henry likes it."

Speaking of the devil. Henry was in his room, looking through some News Papers that were about the famous Lakeshore Strangler, Charles Lee Ray. Henry Evans admired the guy and looked up to him, even though he's been 'dead' for five years. Henry looked up to a few other serial killers who were still around and killing, but not as much as he looked up to Charles Lee Ray.

"Henry! Get down here! We've got a little surprise for you son!" His dad shouted from downstairs.

"Just a minute dad!" Henry shouted back, before getting off his bed.

Once he was downstairs, he saw a package.

Susan smiled. "Just open it, sweetie."

Henry began to tear at the package like a wild animal. His smile faded once he saw what was inside it. "A Good Guy doll?" He asked, trying to hide his disappointment.

Wallace nodded. "Yeah, it was mostly your mother's idea."

Henry pulled the doll's string.

"Hi, I'm Chucky and I'm your friend till the end! Hidey ho!"

Henry put on his famous angeletic smile. "Thank you mom! You're the best!" He faked excitment, clutching Chucky near his chest, hugging him and then he rushed up stairs and went back in his room.

"A Good Guy doll?" Henry muttered with disbelief. "Do I look five years old?" He threw Chucky against the wall. "I am 12 years old for fuck's sake. Why the fuck would I be impressed with a stupid doll who only says three sentences?" He plopped down on the bed and laid down. "I suppose I'll find some use for it. Maybe I could use it as a dummy and cause a car accident or something." He muttered to himself.

"Ouch! What the fuck!" Chucky helped himself up and rubbed his forehead. "Hey kid! What the fuck is your problem and where the fuck am I?" He demanded.

Henry's mouth was widdened with shock as he heard the doll talking to him in a man's voice. "You can talk?" He asked surprised and somewhat impressed.

Chucky rolled his eyes. "No kidding. Now who the fuck are you?"

"The name's Henry. Henry Evans." He realized there was blood pouring from the doll's forehead. "Hey, how come you're bleeding?"

"I suppose this is all a big surprise for you kid but I'm not your average Good Guy doll, I'm attomacily correct." Chucky explained.

Henry was looking at a News Paper and patted the bed, wanting Chucky to sit down. He hoped up on the bed and sat down.

"Is this you?" Henry pointed to a picture of Charles Lee Ray.

"Uh, yeah, it was." He replied, a bit surprised that the kid figured it out on his own. As Chucky glanced around, he noticed that this Kid had some cut out pictures of him from Newspapers on his walls, along with some other famous serial killers.