Angus Littlrot: [hay tres versiones diferentes de Angus]


Date of death: 11th April 1890, 12:29PM

Chipboard Poem:
What was it that resurrected him is unknown,
But at the stroke of midnight his face shall not be shown.
Be fair warned if you must have a look,
You risk getting mauled by Litilrot's hook!

Death Certificate:
A stranger said to Angus, "Do you want some candy?"
"Why thank you kind sir," replied Angus, "that would be dandy."
But when he reached down into the dark box Angus hesitated,
"Come, come now, your treat is free and sweet," the stranger debated.
"To pass up such an opportunity would classify you a chump!"
Angus couldn't resist, drove in his fist and pulled back a bloody stump!
Euphorically light headed he gasped his last breath,
And our poor little Angus Litilrot sat there and bled to death.

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Faith:


Date of death: 20th July 1938, 1:30PM

Chipboard Poem:
She'll ask to go swimming with you,
But if you do be very careful.
Faith likes to watch others turn blue,
Inhaling water by the mouthful.

Death Certificate:
Faith blindly believed
She could swim across the lake.
As it turned out,
This was a grave mistake.
Quickly her limbs grew weary,
The water did turn bitter.
But swallow it did she...
Such a little quitter.

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Grace of the Grave:


Date of death: October 1347

Chipboard Poem:
She comes with the plague,
And also rotten flesh.
She's been dead a long time,
But her sores are still fresh.

Death Certificate:
Grace of the grave is said to wander,
And made many on a cold night ponder...
If some dolls die, and then come back,
Do they find in death, what in life they lacked?

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Hollow:


Date of death: 26th February 2004, 7:10PM

Chipboard Poem:
Hiding behind a bonnet so dark,
Lies a doll not for the faint of heart.
Beneath the hollowed earth she does crawl,
Arriving to spread her fear to you all.

Death Certificate:
When Hollow passed not a tear was shed.
No one even realized she was dead.
In life she was just a catatonic shell,
Trapped inside her own private hell.
But in death she has finally gotten the chance ,
To make the most of her life that she led in a trance.

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The Lost: [tiene una variante con vestido blanco]


Date of death: Unknown

Chipboard Poem:
With dollie in tow and nowhere to go,
She waits for you under your bed.
The fear she instills, gives you the chills.
Being Lost is what we most dread.

Death Certificate:
Not a name or a home,
She wanders alone.
Cold as the arrival of the winter's first frost,
We feel her inside,
And know we can't hide.
She is the creature only known as The Lost.

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