Skeletons Don't Wear Cloaks: A Confession.
I would like you to listen to THIS before you go to sleep, and then recount how many times you’re startled awake, drenched in a cold sweat. Perhaps you’re a stone-cold fox, and shit like this doesn’t bother you, however I’m not buying it. Now I do not want to suggest that Skeletor himself is undoubtedly terrifying. Up to this point we only know him as a cartoon, and that alone takes most of the edge off. Granted, if you were strolling down the street on a rainy night and bumped into a skeleton in a cloak, I’d wager a healthy bet on you filling your drawers in the immediate future. For this exercise though I’d like to focus on that laugh, if we can actually give his guttural sound an accurate description.
I sure as hell have never heard anyone or anything produce noises like that. I don’t even think there’s a motion sensing Halloween decoration out there which could even come close. If the devil himself heard that laugh I’m positive he’d slink back into the shadows from whence he came. Sure, a skeleton in a purple cape spooks me a bit, but add in that sinister giggle and I’ve got more goosebumps on my skin than a Butterball getting prepped for a Thanksgiving feast.
Why don’t we just drive home the point and place that chuckle into a few unrelated scenarios? We’re all about fun here after all, and I need to make sure I get a good night’s sleep!
Give Steve Urkel that laugh. Family Matters wouldn’t have lasted a single season. Why? Because Carl Winslow would have shot that son of a bitch dead onsite. “Did I do that?” Yes. Yes you did Steve. And to be completely frank with you it terrified the entire family, so in order to put all of their mind’s at ease I need to be certain you no longer exist.
Sauron. Lord of the Rings. If Frodo or even Gandalf heard The Evil One emit that laugh they’d have just said “Fuck it. Let him rule Middle Earth. We can’t contend with that horror show.”
How about Aladdin? Imagine the Genie materializing out of the lamp accompanied by that sound. There’d be no story; no movie. The street rat would have requested one wish: the Genie killing himself. Cave of Wonders? Try the Cave of Nightmares.
One more try. Picture Fred Rogers with that laugh. He meanders into his home, gently slides his cardigan onto a coat hanger and back into the closet, shimmies down to his bench, and as he’s teaching us how to tie our shoes, yet again, he’s amused by the repetition of the task and just lets forth the darkness. “Won’t you be my neighbor?” No sir. You’re on your own. You could try the Neighborhood of Make Believe, but even those crazy puppets are apt to skedaddle.
Come to think of it, ya know what that laugh sounds like? It sounds like the laugh Fran Drescher’s son would have. By The Power Sword of He-Man!! SKELETOR IS FRAN DRESCHER’S SON!! Tell me I’m wrong, or at least try to change my mind. LISTEN. My God. You are all witness to history. We discovered the origin mid-article on this very night. I’m even more petrified than when I started writing on this subject.
Karma’s going to drop an anvil on my head in the form of Fran Drescher draped in a purple cloak waiting outside my bedroom window, I just know it. And if that wasn’t bad enough, now I’ve got that laugh ringing in my head louder than the sounds from a hunchback’s bell tower. Hell, mine as well have Quasimodo waiting outside with Fran while they wait to devour my soul.
So much for that elusive good night’s sleep! I suppose I’ll try inundating myself with The Nanny and He-Man reruns to see if I can trick the universe into thinking I have no qualms with either of those laughs.
Good luck, me. Goodnight everyone else.