I want to let you guys know about the most scarring experience that has ever happened to me.
Back in 2010, I was browsing through eBay just looking for some retro-style arcade games to add to my little man cave in my basement. Something reminiscent of the 80s to relive a bit of my childhood. After about the 6th page of results, I found what I was looking for, The Clown X Pinball Machine. It was the same one my local pizza joint had by the front door. The amount of time I spent playing that after school and on weekends was something else. The auction was done in 20 min so I quickly placed a bid of $50 over the previous one and prayed.
The timer had counted down 5-4-3-2-1, and I had won. I jumped for joy and counted the days until I received it.
A crate showed up two weeks later containing my then prized possession. After some careful maneuvering, I managed to get it down the stairs. I opened it up and placed it where it would stay, at least until after the incident.
There it was just as I remembered it. The metallic balls nestled in their home waiting for the spring to make contact and send them on their marvellous journey, the flippers ready to shoot the balls keeping them in steady rhythmic motions as the points grew, even the circus tent sat ready to twirl which added the excitability of the randomness of the machine. All the paint looked like it had just been hand-painted, not a crack or chip in place. On top of the scoreboard sat the main attraction, the smiling clown who as a child I nicknamed Flipper the Clown. His white painted face, with shocking blue wide eyes, red nose, and that warm red painted smile that beckoned children into play when I was a young.
I plugged it in, the sound of the machine rumbling as all the lights shone bright, the flippers banged their welcoming song, and the happy melody played through the speakers. “Come clown around” chimed out and I knew I was home. I plucked a quarter out of my pocket and placed it inside the slot. I pulled the launcher, sending the ball up over the curve. It flew around bouncing off every nook and cranny to then drop down racing towards the flippers. I pressed the button a second too late and it tumbled into the bottom ending my game. I guess I was a little rusty but could only get better. I spent the rest of the night playing with my new machine having the time of my life.
The first few days with the new machine were pretty normal. I played after work each day getting my skills back to that of my 12-year-old self. The only issue that seemed to arise as it would randomly turn on in the middle of the night. I chalked it up to being a small short in a wire somewhere but since it was working perfectly fine I had decided to leave it be.
Around the fourth day, I began waking up tired. I figured maybe all the lights and sounds from the machine were screwing with my body a bit so I decided that I would limit myself to an hour before supper and take the rest of the night off.
When I walked downstairs and walked up to the machine I began staring at the Clown head. I had never noticed the shadows under its eyes or how the mouth was slightly open showing sharp jaded teeth. I guess I had been too excited to notice.
I played the arcade game for 3 rounds and walked upstairs, proud of myself that I had that much restraint and I’d be able to go to bed early. Only when I walked upstairs it was pitch black outside. Walking into the kitchen, the clock read 1:06 am. That couldn’t be, I was only downstairs for like 45 minutes. I thought to myself how I must have enjoyed it that much that I spaced out. I walked to the computer and sent a quick email to my boss telling him I wouldn’t be in the next day because I was sick and then went to bed.
The next day I didn’t wake up until 4 in the afternoon. I had never slept in that late so I got up and had an intense urge to go back to the pinball machine. I walked downstairs greeting the Clown.
Was his mouth wider?
I shook my head thinking I must still be groggy from sleeping that much so I began playing. I played for a bit and had a really good time. After about an hour I decided to go up and make myself food but just like the night before the clock read 1:06 am.
This repeated for a whole week and I could do nothing to stop it. It was as if I was entranced by the machine.
On the 8th day of my new schedule, my sister showed up unexpectedly for supper since she hadn’t heard from me. I guess she had to use her key because she knocked but because I was playing the game I didn’t even hear her. She came downstairs to talk to me, spinning me around when I didn’t answer. Later she told me my face was pinned in a huge smile while my eyes looked sunken into my head.
I blinked a few times until I realized she was there and then had to shake my head to get my senses back. She explained how I’d disappeared for a week and everyone was worried that something had happened to me. She told me she was taking me to eat and practically dragged me out of the house. As the smooth summer air hit my face I was able to think clearly for the first time in a while. Something was wrong with that machine.
While we ate we chatted about all that had been happening and she told me I needed to find the seller and return the machine. There was a problem with that; the seller, the listing, and even our whole conversation were gone from eBay. How could that be? I had an idea though. I’ll just get the return address off the crate and ship it back easy peasy.
So my sister went back to my house, it was around dusk. We went downstairs and grabbed the crate and bingo it was there. I went and got some nails and rebuilt the crate to put the machine into it.
Now, I am not sure if it was the machine that made me do this or if I am just an idiot but I decided to have one more round. My logic is my sister is right there if there is an issue and can get me off.
I started playing my final game but when the ball finally dropped into the hole I went to walk away but my hands would not move. I pulled and pulled but nothing. When I went to look at them my face dropped, metallic hands had grown out of the buttons holding my wrists in place. My sister screamed and I looked to see where her eyes had travelled the giant clown head. Its mouth in a full-toothed smile had come to life. It was making its descent down to me, opening its mouth as wide as it could. It would eat me whole if it reached me so I had to do something fast. With all my strength I yanked my hands away from the machines. Blood spewed down as my skin flayed upon pulling. Blinding pain shot up my arms to my shoulders. At the last second, my hands were freed. I was able to duck down as the clown’s mouth clamped shut. We turned around and ran out of the house.
While I was in the hospital someone was able to get rid of that goddamn Pinball machine. I never asked who and don’t care as long as it was gone.
This was a very traumatic experience as I’m sure you understand. I had to sell my house a few months later because I’d wake up in the middle of the night hearing the faint sounds of the pinball machine beckoning me.
I needed to get my story out there because as I was looking online today I came across an ad of someone selling the Clown X Pinball Machine. I don’t want anyone making the same mistake I did so if you come across this ad please for the love of everything DO NOT BUY IT.