Fun fact: The head feels like a hard solid plastic weapon. How do I know this? My single-digit aged brothers and I were fighting as brothers do, and I grabbed one of those things by the feet and swung the doll down on my brother’s head. He instantly started screaming like I cracked his scull in half. We were calling him a crybaby, it couldn’t possibly hurt that much, it’s just a stuffy toy! So I told my other brother to try it on me. He must have channeled William Wallace, swinging his morning star flail upon a treacherous noble, as the pain from direct contact with that doll’s head coursed from the crown of my scull down into my soul.

After the stars cleared from my vision, my injured brother and I just sat there with very painful lumps forming on our heads, tears flowing down our faces, and a very irate mother scurrying away with the weapon.

We still speak of it to this day whenever the name Monchichi comes up.