Smurfs Are Evil

I was talking to my sister the other day. She was telling me about how she was killing time by visiting the local Toys R Us. She told me about seeing Smurfs anniversary items. She said they were cute. If I was a dog, I would've tilted my head with a puzzled look on my doggie face. Cute, I asked myself. When did smurfs become cute?

She went on to describe that a good friend of hers who moved away gave her two smurf albums from his youth. She was so touched. She said it made her cry. "Really?" I asked.

Why am I so confused, you wonder? Well, when I was little, my sisters - especially the sister who shared the above tale - used to pretend that we were Gargamel's (a.k.a. the smurfs' nemesis) relatives. The smurfs lived behind our huge TV set and we would terrorize them. We used to pretend to make smurf stew. We used to take their smurfs' berries and leave them with nothing. I was a cruel and I didn't care. I was convinced that the smurfs were evil.

Even today, I am none too pleased that there is a resurgent interest in smurfs. Smurfs plague my nightmares and now my cohort against the smurfs loves them?

It's part of their evil plot to get to me and ruin me. I know it is. I wish my sister would see that and steer clear of the smurfs. They mean us harm.