Five Random Action Figures, Part 5!
I was supposed to see Pacific Rim tonight. Then our plans changed. Then I went on Wikipedia and read every single thing that happens. On the idiocy scale of 1 to 10, I like spaghetti.
I’m seeing it tomorrow, but I’m still pissed enough to let those feelings seep into this fucking article about stupid old toys that ten people care about. If I seem irritated, it’s because of our friends who bailed… not Fugitoid.
Onward with the fifth edition of Five Random Action Figures!
Granite
Inhumanoids, 1986
Another Inhumanoids figure was featured in Part 3, so I’ll skip the thirty-paragraph dissertation about the series. As for this guy, he represents the “Granites,” a race of heroic rock creatures who helped us humans survive our battles with giant, rampaging monsters. Which takes my brain straight back to Pacific Rim. Fuck the world.
The aforementioned monsters were the best toys in the line, but I’ve always had a soft spot for Granite. Part of it is pure nostalgia, since I got him for Christmas literally seconds before opening my beloved ALF plush doll. Granite’s proximity to that grand event made him seem so much more… I don’t know… shiny.
But even when I put on my Objective Helmet, he’s still a fantastic action figure. Granite has two or three inches on He-Man, plus the added bonus of gemstone eyes that glow under sunlight.
There’s a neat “generic” quality to him, too. Like, imagine having the artistic talent of a five-year-old, and then imagine drawing a kid who’s holding an action figure. I bet it’d look something like Granite. Large, simply colored, and with eyes that are just two green dots.
Pete
Krazy Balls, 1980s
Technically, this isn’t an action figure. But I think we’re well within Nobody Gives a Shit territory on that offense.
If you read this site, you’ve gotta be at least marginally familiar with Madballs, a line of terrific foam monster balls with gory stitches and exposed brains. Madballs were very popular in their day, to the surprise of several industry experts who swore that no more than a dozen children would be interested in foam balls made to look like decaying goblins.
The problem with AmToy’s collection was that it was ridiculously easy to rip off. So many fly-by-night toymakers took a cue from Madballs and made their own versions, which were then distributed in pharmacies, supermarkets, and pretty much everywhere EXCEPT regular toy stores.
On the other hand, maybe that actually helped AmToy. If you found the cheap shitty version of Oculus Orbus while Mom was picking up cold medicine, you’d probably end up wanting the real thing. It’s not like you had to worry about the expense. You were eight.
The mummy fellow shown above is one of those knockoffs, from a line called “Krazy Balls.” I don’t remember his name, so we’ll call him Pete.
Pete was mostly based on “Dust Brain,” but the neat thing was how he blended attributes from many different first-series Madballs. With Dust Brain’s mummy motif, Skull Face’s prominent teeth and Lock Lips’ single eye, Pete was like the Super Skrull Madball.
Fugitoid
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, 1990
I know that Fugitoid was a friend to the Ninja Turtles, but beyond that, I remember nothing. That’s actually fitting, because despite my great love to All Things TMNT, I never really considered Fugitoid a part of their universe. When I was a kid, “adorable robots” went into their own special category, and they spent more time interacting with me than my other action figures.
I was weird like that. Even when they weren’t battery-operated talking things that responded to voice commands, I still treated so many of my robot toys like real robots. I firmly recall Fugitoid acting like an inquisitive assistant, who’d ask me banal questions just so I’d have someone to talk to.
“Oh these? They’re Cheetos. The best way to eat them is to suck all the dust off first. That way it’s like two foods in one.”
Fugitoid’s chest opened to reveal a smattering of mechanical parts, which added little to the presentation and frankly looked more like robot vomit than an electronic heart. That’s why I didn’t photograph it.
Alien Fruit Monster
Kellogg’s Froot Loops, 2004
Hoookay. I just prayed to every last god of lucidity. Let’s see if I can make sense, here.
The Alien Fruit Monster was a villainous something-or-another who appeared in a series of Froot Loops commercials back in 2004.
If you search for him on Google, X-Entertainment is the first match. A special edition of Froot Loops came with Alien Fruit Monster marshmallows, and that was great, but you could also send away for an honest-to-goodness Alien Fruit Monster action figure. That was even greater.
I vowed to post an update when my “Bendin’ Buddy” arrived. To the shock of no one, I never did. Unlike my other broken promises, nobody ever called me out about that one. I guess the world just didn’t care about Alien Fruit Monsters as much as I did.
For whatever it’s worth, here’s your update. Eight freakin’ years later, here’s your goddamned Alien Fruit Monster update.
He came, he saw, he conquered. The figure is everything an Alien Fruit Monster fan could hope for, with bendable tentacles, a jack-o’-lantern mouth, and eyes that look like they were mauled by Wolverine.
The best part? Since it was only available by mail as part of a middling cereal promotion, the figure must be exceedingly rare. If I can raise AFM’s profile, I’ll be sitting on a goldmine.
Monstro-Viper
G.I. Joe, 1993
AH, JESUS. Lucidity gods, I’m upping the ante. Three goats in your honor. I’ll need all the help I can get to make sense of this guy.
Monstro-Viper was a donation from Bill of Veggie Macabre, who very correctly assumed that I’d appreciate a giant mutant demon monkey who made Play-Doh bombs in his stomach.
It’s hard to believe that this creature was part of the G.I. Joe collection, but it’s true. Apparently, Monstro-Viper was originally a normal Cobra soldier, before DNA experiments turned him into a gigantic wolverine-sasquatch-bear-man. (Not kidding – THAT’S what he’s supposed to be.)
What’s more, Monstro-Viper was blessed with a “body chamber” that allowed him to produce exploding “gut bombs.” Um, what are we dealing with, here? Are we saying that Monstro-Viper’s shit, Monstro-Viper’s literal shit, got redirected into a chamber that turned it into bombs?
PLEASE tell me that that’s what we’re saying.
To make good on what his file card promised, Monstro-Viper’s stomach doubled as a Play-Doh mold. (He even came with a small can of the stuff, though Hasbro didn’t call it Play-Doh. “Moldable Bio-Armor” was their term.) This is, unquestionably, one of the weirdest figures I’ve ever seen, at least from a big time line like G.I. Joe.
Thanks for the crazy shitbomb-producing gorilla man, Bill!
I’m going to bed now.
