I know the episode you're talking about.  That doll freaked me out.

"Hi, my names talking Suzie and I don't like you."
"Hi, my names talking Suzie and I'm going to kill you."
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theres one for sell on ebay look for haunted doll
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theres one for sell on ebay look for haunted doll
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That reminds me of something I read on a website here you go.


This is a crazy story that I wouldn't have believed had it not happened to me. I am not prone or drawn to the supernatural, and in fact I have a strong Christian support system, but what I experienced has no other explanation than the unexplained. This is a true story about a Rubber Ducky. I don't feel that in good conscience I can keep this thing in my house, it wouldn't be fair to my family and frankly I've lost enough sleep over it as it is. I spoke at length with my Pastor and together we came up with the idea to sell it with full disclosure, any other method and we would risk the Duck falling into unsuspecting hands. We knew that the only way to get rid of him without personal condemnation was to be open, honest and forthright. We knew the person getting the duck would have to know the whole story and accept the consequences freely. We felt the only way to do this was to be sure the story would be read, understood and accepted.

So here it is. My son, now 2, received this rubber ducky as a gift from an Aunt when he was approximately 10 or 11 months old. He was very enthusiastic about his bath time and loved the new addition to the tub. He named the duck "Yella", his personal pronunciation of Yellow and of course the color of the duck. Now as with most kids their tastes change and can be at times fickle, in fact suggesting that all kids have some level of ADD would not be a stretch. Soon Yella had lost some of his appeal in the eyes of my son, he requested the ducks company less and less as time wore on, until such a time where Yella was all but forgotten. We originally thought nothing of it, then as time went on my son began to speak more and was able to articulate his thoughts he started referring more and more to his old friend Yella. The problem was that it wasn’t in a positive or childish manner. In fact it was really quite disturbing, he repeatedly made reference to fights he and Yella had, and a subsequent scar inflicted on the left side of the ducks head. At first we just figured he had an active imagination and that eventually he would forget about Yella, but he never did. In fact each time he told the story he did it with more detail and more emotion until his Mother and I finally forbid him from telling the story at all. In fact my wife was so distressed she searched out the duck and vowed to dispose of it. At this point our son had an unnerving attachment to Yella, he would never let the duck out of his sight. He was never affectionate towards the duck, he just insisted that the toy always be around no matter what. He was about a year and half by now and there was certainly no bargaining with him, every time we tried to take the toy our son would lose it, literally crying bloody murder. Needless to say there was no way of coaxing the duck away and despite our best efforts the stories continued. We hoped and prayed that his obsession with Yella would pass with time, we even found ourselves spoiling him in an effort to replace the duck. It was useless.

One night our Son and Yella were having a bath together with several of the other bath toys collected over the course of the previous year, there was a boat, a whale, a starfish, a small action figure and some miscellaneous plastic tools. Our Son's overall interest in Yella had dwindled to the point of sheer indifference. In fact if he had his way the duck wouldn't have even been in the tub, instead it was because of his Mother's lapse in judgement that Yella was included at all. He went about playing and splashing with his other toys, all the while ignoring the duck, intentionally or not. It was at this point our son noticed the other toys in the tub changing shape, distorting and losing their color into the water. He didn't understand what was happening but he knew something wasn't right, he also noticed that Yella was eerily positioned at the end of the tub, dead center and facing him directly. He also noticed the ducks shape hadn’t changed and his color appeared to be as bright as ever. It seemed as though the toys were melting before him. It was at this point that he reached out to grab the duck, almost mesmerized by his yellow body. As he grabbed the duck he felt a piercing pain in the palm of his hand and immediately threw the toy back into the water, he was sure he had been bitten. Anger flooded our son and again he grabbed at Yella and this time he wasted no time in throwing the duck across the room. The duck crashed against the raised corner of the toilet paper holder, bounced off the wall and came to rest at my feet as I now stood in the doorway of the bathroom. By now my wife was aware of our son's rage and the events taking place, she threw down her magazine, jumped off her stool and lunged across the washroom toward our son. She scooped him up into her arms. My wife and I looked at each other as we tried desperately to process the evidence before us, all the while our little one cried and shouted at the Rubber Ducky on the floor.

As I mentioned before, if it had not happened to us I would've never given it a second thought and I certainly would have dismissed the author as a quack and the story as a farce. We immediately checked the temperature of the water, it was luke warm. We searched the bathroom high and low for chemicals or agents which may have caused this reaction in the toys, nothing was found. Our son was not burned and with the exception of a small cut on the palm of his hand, there was no sign of injury. Being cautious we packed our son in the car and headed for the emergency room, as expected nothing was found to be abnormal. We then rushed to the home of our Pastor, We've never been fanatical with respect to our religious beliefs, but we felt like there was something unholy and unexplainable hear that needed to be addressed. Our Pastor assured us there had to be an earthly explanation, but at the same time he had an unsettled look that left us feeling doubtful. We left and headed home, exhausted and anxious to put this night behind us. At home we rushed upstairs to our sons room, got him into his pajammas and said our good night prayers. Our son seemed distant and agitated but soon relented to his own exhaustion. My wife and I returned downstairs to the main floor bathroom and the scene of this evenings event. Everything was as we left it, with one exception, Yella was back in the tub, dead center and facing us directly. We looked at each other in the hope the other would appear calm and composed, it didn't happen, instead we starred at each other waiting for an acknowledgement of who had put the duck back in the tub. That didn't happen either. I immediately grabbed up the duck and without hesitation placed him in the closest container I could find, a Tupperware style container on the counter in the kitchen. I then stormed out the garage and tossed the container on the workbench while I headed back in the house to try and comprehend what had just happened. It was at this point I picked up the phone and called our Pastor and how we find ourselves in the position we are in today.

I can't explain what happened, and the sooner I can put the events of that night and this duck behind me, the better off I'll be.

I will not be responsible for the duck after shipping, I will not field questions or help to explain its unusual mystique. I want nothing to do with it. The winning bidder must understand this. I don't want someone to find this thing in a Dumpster or buy it at a garage sale, I want the person who gets it to understand what they have and not to take it lightly, and for Gods sake I don't want it near children. I'd be just as happy if you buried it in the Tupperware container it's still in.

I hope you can respect my wishes.

Thank you.


The duck sold for $107
go here
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