I admit it, I have a pretty twisted sense of humor at times. Offically, it’s society’s fault, but the real blame lies with my older brother.
He’s 8 years older than me. That means when I was a young impressionable kindergartener, he was in junior high, and his pubes were hardening and turning him into satan incarnate. He had gone beyond torturing plastic army men by setting them on fire with airplane glue and wanted to start experimenting on real people. That’s what little brothers are for.
When I was about 6, he realized I was scared of his GI Joe dolls. The TV room was upstairs, and I’d watch Saturday Morning cartoons, usually with the door closed. One time I heard this high squeaky voice from the door saying “EWWWWIIIIIIC…COME TO THE DOOR EWWWWWIIIIIC…”
I opened the door, and the GI Joe doll was standing there, blood dripping on him from above. “I COME FOR YOU EWWWWWIIIIIC…”
I slammed the door and didn’t come out for hours.
Another time OB called me into his room. He had made a miniature gallows, standing about 3 feet tall. There were steps leading up to the top, and a noose made out of twine. He had one GI Joe doll with his hands bound behind his back, and another doll wearing a little black hood. He told me “Look Eric, they’re going to hang GI Joe!” He marched them both up to the top, slipped the twine noose around Joe’s neck, and pushed him off. I don’t remember anything after that.
So tell me Dopers, what made YOU so twisted?