Chapter 3: Phil Simpson

"I can't believe Andy," Phil started. "He's causing so much trouble around here! He even caused his teacher to go nuts! She called us and insisted that his doll came to life and tried to attack her! She actually tied him up, put him in a cage, and insisted I come pick him up! Did I mention she even tried to convince the principal he was alive!? What is wrong with that kid? He's bat insane! He's even making other people crazy!"

"Phil…maybe there is more to this killer doll story than meets the eye," Joanne said.

"No, that kid is just crazy! We have to send him back to the shelter," Phil said. "He just needs more help than we can give him."

"He needs time to heal, Phil," Joanne said. "I think maybe we should get rid of that doll to prevent him from getting so antsy – and by that, I don't mean just tossing him in the basement."

Phil looked a little guilty. "Well, if it will shut him up, then I guess you're right," he said. "But I've had a long, stressful day at work and having to deal with Andy's nonsense. I'll take care of the doll tomorrow." Joanne gave a nod, and Phil went upstairs to rest.

Later that night, Andy went down to the basement, armed with an electric knife to kill Chucky. But he became worried when Chucky was not on the basement floor. He searched the basement cautiously. Even so, Chucky dropped on him from up high, causing him to fall on the ground. Andy took the electric knife and cut Chucky on the head a little. He cried in pain and ran off behind the stairs.

"What the hell's going on down here!?" demanded Phil, who suddenly appeared on the stairs and clicked on the lights. He saw Andy with the knife and feared he was going crazy again. "Andy…put the knife down."

"But I need it for – " Andy started.

Phil raised his finger, silencing Andy. "Put down the knife…and we'll talk about it." He began to slowly descend the stairs. "Everything is going to be just fine." All of a sudden, Phil felt a cold, hard metal bar yank his ankle. He shouted as he tripped, broke the rails, and hung over the stairs.

Andy gasped and looked terrified. Phil tried to get his thoughts together and figure out what just happened. But things became all too apparent when he saw…Chucky, who was now alive! Andy and his teacher were right after all! But how could this be? He was a mere doll!

"How's it hangin', Phil?" Chucky asked.

Phil wasn't about to stand being the victim of a puny, kid-like doll. "You put me down right now!" Phil ordered with rage in his voice.

Chucky shrugged. "Whatever you say, chief," he said. He then released the hook, and Phil fell on the floor. Phil was motionless, and Chucky grinned and chuckled. Maybe at last he had succeeded in killing someone. He began to go into hiding – but felt a firm hand grip his ankle, causing him to trip and fall flat on his face.

"Ow! What the hell…?" Chucky looked up and saw an enraged Phil. "But you – how did you – I thought I…NOO!" roared Chucky.

"How's it hangin', Chuck?" smirked Phil.

Chucky flailed his arms and legs as Phil walked out from under the stairs.

"Let me go, you asshole!" growled Chucky.

"Sure, no problem," Phil said. He then swung back and slammed Chucky onto the floor with all his might.

"OW!" Chucky yelled. Phil then took the hook and beat Chucky across the back several times. Chucky kept grunting before Phil finally rendered him unconscious.

"That'll teach ya to mess with me…and Andy," Phil said, dropping the hook and putting his arm around Andy. Phil looked at Andy. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you," he said. "I-I guess you were right after all."

"It's okay," Andy said.

"Now…what do you say we take this punk to juvenile hall?" Phil suggested, stomping on Chucky's head.

"They'll think we're crazy," Andy said. "But I have another idea. I know a kid that would love to have Chucky."

The next day, Chucky found himself strapped to a red and blue rocket – and a kid in a black T-shirt with a white skull cackled as he lit the fuse. All of a sudden, Chucky came to life.

"YOU SHITHOLE! YOU GET ME OFF THIS DAMN ROCKET RIGHT NOW!" roared Chucky.

"Ah, shut up, pipsqueak," the kid said, smacking Chucky in the head. "You don't talk to Sid Phillips like that!"

"YOU'RE GONNA PAY FOR THAT!" roared Chucky.

Sid ignored Chucky and stood a few feet back. "And now, the countdown will commence! Five…four…three…two…one!"

"NOOO!" growled Chucky, but it was too late. The rocket whistled as it raced to the sky and finally exploded. Lots of blood and gore sprinkled over Sid's lawn…yet he danced happily in it.

Andy and Phil stood in one corner of the yard and looked at each other. "You know, Andy," Phil whispered, "maybe that kid is the one who needs mental help." Andy nodded, and with that, the two of them got back in the car and drove home – glad that they had defeated Chucky.

The End