Hey Andy Davis, Andy Barclay hates you. Okay, maybe ?hates? is a strong word. But you can bet he darned sure envies you. That?s because just like him, your toys come to life, too. But at least yours have the decency to wait until you?re asleep or not around. And you get cool ones: a…
One, two;?Freddy’s coming for you. That’s it. If done properly, in that sing-song, little-kid-nursery-rhyme-double-Dutch kind of way, that’s all you have to say and immediately, horror fans will know what you’re talking about. And grown men may shudder. Those words (and the remaining twenty-two that finish out the mythic urban-legendary poem) and a few wordless…
