I chew pens, but I know where to draw the line. Despite the beautiful irony, you don't chew Leatherface.
Maybe it was the reasonable prices, or maybe it was because Walgreen's hasn't dug up all of this year's really great Halloween stuff yet. Whatever the reason, I couldn't resist this trio of terrible pens, sold for two bucks a pop, each bearing the torso of one of Hollywood's leading slashers.
I'm a little unsure of the target audience, since those who might appreciate pens topped with Leatherface figures generally aren't young enough to get away with using pens topped with Leatherface figures. Wacky pens are pretty preteenish.
Of the trio, Leatherface is clearly the coolest. Based on the retardo cannibalo's look from the original flick, the figure is perfectly detailed, right down to the meaty pink apron splotches. While Freddy and Jason are far more beloved, their pen figures are also way out of scale. Jason's head looks about 30% smaller than a size I can rally behind, while Freddy's claw is so oversized that I'm left wondering if he didn't trade arms with some kind of giant, mutant mudpuppy. I'm not too pissy about this. It's nice to see Leatherface win a slasher battle once in a while.
Also picked up this pair of Pocket Screamers, which improve upon past editions with a widened color palette, and in the case of the Pocket Screamer on the left, an exposed stomach. As if pushing their bellies isn't something you would do just based off of some unspoken primal need, you're rewarded for your effort: Crunch their stomachs, and the Pocket Screamers belt out bloodcurdling screams while they eyes light up.
While their rugged looks would seem to dictate masculine, bass-boosted bellows, I can confirm that it's a total scream queen deal. It's pretty incredible that a grayish zombie with rock star hair and an exposed viscus screams like a thirteen-year old girl, and if you think I'm exaggerating on the "pretty incredible," you have to admit that it's at least incredible enough to warrant spending my last few bucks on these rather than a giant bag of pretzels. On the other hand, I'm still thinking about those pretzels. It's been hours, too. There was just something about them.
Posted by Matt on 09/06/2008. E-mail me!
Chestnuts roasted by 
The world failed to end on schedule, AGAIN, on July 5th, which indicates once more that this is not the real 1998. The calendars have been tampered with. I blame stinkbutt.