Teddy Ruxpin. Does anybody remember him? If not, Teddy Ruxpin was an audio-animatronic toy bear into whose backside was built a cassette tape recorder that played stories with names like “Help Teddy and Grubby Find the Treasure of Grundo!” The whole process involved something called “differential pulse-position modulation,” which means Teddy Ruxpin’s mouth would move along with the “pulse” of the audio, creating the illusion Teddy was actually talking to you. This doesn’t sound particularly exciting, but remove the mediocre “Grundo” cassette and replace it with Mötley Crüe’s “Shout At The Devil” and you’re onto something. You’re onto animatronic blowjobs. And for a ten-year-old, this kind of mischief is the ne plus ultra of existence.

First of all, no self-respecting ten-year-old is going to be caught dead owning a Teddy Ruxpin. This is why younger brothers and sisters—neither of which I had or have—were so important. Larry, a friend of mine if only out of disgruntled, juvenile, sexually frustrated convenience, had a younger sister who had a Teddy Ruxpin and, once we had successfully locked her inside her closet, we’d run over and tear into her toy chest, rip out the “Beware of the Mudblups in the Land of Grundo” tape and rock out–quite literally–with our cocks out. Now, “Shout At The Devil” was a crucial soundtrack for three important reasons:

1.) “Shout At The Devil” kicks ass.

2.) If you squint just right at the album cover (see inset), the Crüe can be construed as hot babes, except of course for Mick Mars, who makes a solid case for the ugliest specimen in rock and roll.


3.) By throwing in that breakneck glam, Teddy’s mouth would move with extraordinary speed, prurient speed. Ideal blowjob speed.

Larry’s mother must have wondered where all her Pond’s cold cream went, because it became evident early on that Teddy Ruxpin’s unlubricated maw was too abrasive on our penises and the cold cream, applied liberally to the top and bottom of his trap, made the process exceedingly more pleasurable.

It was the summer of 1985, a year designated by the United Nations as “National Youth Year” and, unofficially, “The Year I Really Started To Experiment With The Possibilities of Places I Could Put My Penis.” The year of the Night Stalker, Richard Ramirez, whose exploits I followed with what my father referred to as “unhealthy enthusiasm.” Of astronaut Barbie (who, while exotic and cosmic, could not be fucked, we determined).

Larry and my crapulous affair(s) with Teddy Ruxpin came to an abrupt end when we decided it might be fun to stuff both our dicks inside Teddy Ruxpin’s mouth to the Crüe’s “Too Young To Fall in Love,” for whatever reason. The zeitgeist? Probably not. Our stiff, chubby little worms were too much for Teddy. The bear began to seize, Vince Neil’s vocals began to tremble and as it turned, no amount of Pond’s cold cream could provide a means of egress for our desperate little dongs. Teddy Ruxpin clamped down.

At first, this malfunction was cause for laughter. We scooted around Larry’s sister’s room, howling at the scenario taking place. After Larry’s sister punched her way through her closet and found us in flagrante, our howls took on a different timbre.

“Cathy, get out!”


Momma. What a terrible thing to hear. You hear of men in battle, the toughest bastards around, screaming for their Mommas. Momma. Oh, Momma. Oh this ends badly. Larry’s mother, who for some reason never recognized that for weeks her daughter would be regularly locked in the closet while her son and his best friend face-fucked a toy bear, would now find a horrific scene. Two boys with their penises stuck inside Teddy Ruxpin, pants at our ankles, as Cathy, who would have been around eight, yanked on Teddy from one end while we made every attempt to extricate our dicks from the bear. A real sordid tug-of war.

Ben Taub is the hospital you go to in Houston if you’ve been shot, stabbed, burned to an exothermic crisp or get your penis stuck in a talking bear. It’s a ghastly place. Larry’s mother drove both Larry and I to the Ben Taub emergency room, where, naked, we sat crying in our humiliating position, penises partially digested by Teddy Ruxpin, “Shout At The Devil” still roaring out of Teddy’s speakers. A man who appeared near death, covered in gore and waiting around to postpone his reward saw the two of us in the waiting room and spoke.

“The world is a sea of rats, isn’t it, boys?” he said, through thanatoid chortles. Larry and I looked at anything but this pestilent old street crazy; we weren’t prepared to acknowledge anything or anyone.

“A fucking sea of rats,” he repeated, fingering one particularly gruesome wound with grubby fingers.

Larry and I were eventually ushered into a foul-smelling room, attended to by a Dr. Kaplan. He asked us our names, the usual drill. We mumbled our names, through hoarse tears. Then he said this:

“You two probably think this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen don’t you?”

“I dunno.”

“I dunno.”

Dr. Kaplan applied something stronger than Pond’s cold cream and withouted us and our tormented members from Teddy Ruxpin. I wondered if he liked Mötley Crüe, if it bothered him–I wouldn’t have wanted to offend anybody’s sensibilities. He gave us hospital gowns and told us to wait, that we’d have to be checked over one more time, just to make sure no permanent damage had been done. Relief. I was relieved for a moment, until I decided to ask,

“Dr. Kaplan. Is this the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen?” Dr. Kaplan seemed relieved to be asked.

“Thought you’d never ask!,” he said, continuing,” My first year as a resident, I saw a man who tried to cut his own head off with a chainsaw.” This didn’t seem much weirder, just bolder, permanent.

“Gross,” I said. Larry continued crying, sure he was going to “get in trouble.” Get in trouble? Larry, we’re in trouble, dude. It’s terrible, this kind of trouble. You go along just fine, skirting disaster until you don’t. Then what? Then tragedy. But just before it’s tragic, it’s not. We were so close to not being in this situation. Was something else at work? This is an argument for God. Not a benevolent God, just a God. You could argue everything is an argument for him/her/it.

“The weirdest part, though,” Dr. Kaplan went on,” he almost did it. But he didn’t. He lived.”


“Swear to God, he did. Do you want to know how they sewed his head back on?”


“They removed most of his anus and used that tissue to reconnect his neck and head. Talk about a butthead!” Dr. Kaplan laughed uproariously. We laughed nervously. What the hell just happened? Nix. What would happen? We would have to go home soon. What would my parents say? Was this something to be grounded for? This story would get out. Fifth grade was around the corner. I still hadn’t the slightest clue what to do with my penis. No hope, no salvation, existential hunger. Rotted, sweaty teeth. Parental love wears thin. This is the age one acquires enemies. This is when we are at our worst. This is a story, ammunition, a big powder keg, a cache of hellhounds. We didn’t want blood, but we got it. The story would get out.

But until now, it hasn’t.

Of course, how could one compete with the new kid, Davey Martell, a military brat transfer from California who took 5th grade center stage, charging 50 cents a head to people interested in watching him auto-fellate himself in the boy’s bathroom? One couldn’t. The worst part? He wasn’t even that flexible.

Sometimes the world is a sea of rats.

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Described as an "up-and-coming humorist" by Esquire, TYLER STODDARD SMITH's works have been featured in: The McSweeney's Joke Book of Book Jokes, The Best American Fantasy, Esquire, Meridian, Pindeldyboz, The Big Jewel, Yankee Pot Roast, Word Riot, Barrelhouse, Monkeybicycle, and McSweeney's, among others. Visit his website at: http://tylerstoddardsmith.wordpress.com

103 responses to “I’m Hollerin’ 911 with My Dick in Your Mouth, Ted”

  1. dwoz says:

    This is KILLING me, because I know the guy who now owns the Teddy Ruxpin brand.

    Just KILLING me. I’m DYIN’ here.

    • Oh, c’mon….are you serious???? What is the statute of limitations on suing that guy for putative damages?

      • dwoz says:

        I am absolutely serious. He bought the rights about 8 years ago, it had gone off the market and was a stagnant, dormant brand. It’s apparently coming back, at least in some parts of the world.

        He is, by the way, a really REALLY nice guy.

  2. Point 2. on Motley Crue was made by Aerosmith. Those dudes do indeed look like ladies.

  3. This is hilarious and what a bizarre joy(?)-ride in this cum-what-may story. My best pal had (has?) a Teddy Ruxpin too. Now that is a horse of a different color, I must say. I really enjoyed this Tyler. Thanks for the thrill.

  4. Greg says:

    I nominate Tyler Stoddard Smith for the next TNB book. Fucking hell, dude. Who are you?

    • I am the man who jumps “significant waterfalls” (I can’t get your bon mot out of my head!) with you, on a horse. You’re like Alec from “The Black Stallion,” except you’re caucasian. Oh, it occurs to me maybe they were talking about the horse, not the kid….Thanks, dude!

  5. Zara Potts says:

    Oh My God. Oh My God. Oh My God. Oh My God. Oh My God. Oh My God. Oh My God.

  6. Jude says:

    This takes Toy Story to a whole new level! Fucking hilarious!!!!

  7. Gloria says:

    Please tell me every word of this is true.

  8. Nice use of “Thanatoid,” Tyler, amidst the debauchery. I will admit, even at a young age, I too always thought Ruxpin sure did have a purty mouth.

  9. Debbie says:

    This is hilarious. A few of my male friends had Teddy Ruxpin and now I know why. I was about 10 or 11 when I found my first Playgirl magazine full of hot naked guys. At 14 I started buying it in bulk and reselling it, for a major profit, at my all girl Catholic High School.

  10. Thank YOU, Robert. It’s not easy being green…or a pervert.

  11. Simon Smithson says:

    “It’s my room, Larry! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO TEDDY?”

    She had no way of knowing how little she truly wanted an answer to that question.

  12. Ok, I have to confess I’m a little shocked. People have strong feelings about the ugliest specimen in rock and roll. I’ve taken some flak over the years for postulating Mick Mars takes the grand title. “No, you idiot, it’s Tom Petty,” they’ll say. Or, “You dingleberry–look at Lemmy and that mole!” or even “You know, Ric Ocasek [sic] looks like a pixie stick filled with hepatitis.” Perhaps I should just be comforted that we’re focusing on what’s really important: Space Exploration.

    • dwoz says:

      ok, two things.

      Fess up. Nobody has ever, ever called you a dingleberry.

      Next up, Ric Ocasek.

      I was once in the Wurlitzer Music Store on Mass Ave in Boston, looking at guitar pedals inside a glass case. I turned around to go, and jostled into the guy who had silently come up behind me and was looking over my shoulder. And I was literally nose-to-adams-apple with Ocasek.

      And let me tell you, I am going to call Paulina, and give her the number of a really good optometrist, because, well, damn.

      • 1. Au contraire: My father just called me a dingleberry for posting this piece.

        2. You appear to have a perfectly plausible nose. I find it hard to believe Ocasek’s boundless Adam’s apple didn’t do serious damage to your grill. You are a lucky man, although I don’t envy you your inevitable fever dreams in which your nose is being chased across a barren landscape by Ocasek’s Apple (sounds like a principle or theorum ala Occam’s Razor). You wake up, certain your nose has gone the way of Tycho Brahe’s, but just as you run to the mirror, “My Best Friend’s Girl” comes on the hi-fi and all is right in the world…except the Paulina thing…that’s more confusing than, well, almost anything.

        • dwoz says:

          truth. About the paulina thing.

          I mean, the guy’s name is Ocasek. That is pronounced, by the way, “Okay-sex.”

          If you’re Paulina Porizcova (who is not a half bad writer, by the way!), you’re gonna settle for “okay sex?”

        • Zara Potts says:

          A dingleberry? That is the best word I have heard for a long, long time. Can I use it please?

        • I love the word dingleberry, generally defined as ‘a dried piece of turd that has become stuck to the hair around the arse.’

          Shakespeare invented a ton of words, but I bet he’d trade ’em all for that one…

        • Dingleberry is indeed a glorious word. However, I think It’s Spanish translation, “Tarzaneta” is even better, the implication being that “Tarzan” is swinging from a “vine.” I’ll let y’all figure out the rest.

        • dwoz says:

          yes, my daughters keep sheep, and part of the wool preparation process is to “skirt” the fleece, which means to cut the dingleberries from around the edges.

          Zara, you’re from NZ…don’t you all have sheep?

        • Zara Potts says:

          About a hundred million of them.


    This made me laugh shit-my-pants hard. No worries, I didn’t have to go so things are fine but goddamn you are one funny teddyfucker. One love, cousin.

  14. Rachel Pollon says:

    Oh. My. God. What can one say? The title got me interested, the story won’t let the smile leave my face. Boys are awesome.
    Too funny.
    And, wait, Motley Crue was STILL playing while the doctor was trying to remove you from your shackle?

  15. paz says:

    wait. you and your friend both had your dicks in teddy’s mouth at the same time? you were tag-teaming him? thats weird.

  16. Holy crap, that’s the funniest thing I’ve read in a long, long time. I don’t even know what I laughed at most: Motley Crue as wank-material, the wailing of the little girl, the creepy doctor’s story…

  17. Dana says:

    Holy sexual precociousness! My brother was locking me in the closet when I was 10, but if I ever find out he did nasty things to Baby Tender Love….

    Hilarious and oh so disturbing Tyler! I’m sensing a trend with you…

  18. Jessica Blau says:

    Very funny.

    I’ve never been a boy and have never raised a boy. The doctor’s reaction has now convinced me that in the world of penises this is perfectly normal and ALL people with penises go through a phase where they stick those penises wherever they’ll fit. Yes, sewing someone’s head back on with the flesh from their own anus is infinitely more bizarre. Mr. Doctor knew that. Because he, too, had done strange things with his dinger.

    • There needs to be a show on National Geographic, or, hell, Lifetime, entitled, “The World of Penises.” It’s not as dirty as everybody thinks. We’re a classy program. Gritty, informative, hard-edged…then maybe at the end of the show we can light somebody on fire for comic relief. Hell, I don’t know what kids are watching these days. All I know is that penises and fire sell (sells?).

  19. Thomas Wood says:

    Every boy has a strange-thing-they-did-with-their-penis story, sometimes twelve. I’m glad this is not one of mine. Thank you. You’ve taken the bullet for all of us.

    • Gloria says:

      I have eight year old twin boys. Uncircumcised boys. Prior to having said children, you couldn’t have convinced me that I would one day be yelling, “YOUR FORESKIN IS NOT A POCKET! GET THAT OUT OF THERE!”

      Little boys and their penises, man. What in the hell is it?

      • Oh my god. “YOUR FORESKIN IS NOT A POCKET” is perhaps the most wonderful thing I’ve ever heard, ever. I don’t care what it’s about, but will you promise me that you’ll write a book with that as the title one day? I’m giggling like an 8-year old boy with a Power Ranger in his penis over here.

        • Gloria says:

          My book about parenting already has a title. It is: No Crying in the Kitchen and Other Coping Strategies for Raising Twins. It’s all written…in my head. I can promise you that there will be a chapter called “Your Foreskin is Not a Pocket” though.

        • foreskins are awesome.

          they’re totally pockets. but only when you’re a kid though. use your foreskin as a pocket after puberty and you’re basically a fetishist.

          If I ever have a son this will be my first nugget of fatherly advice…

        • Gloria says:

          Not that there’s anything wrong with being a fetishist. Or so I hear…

        • nobody wants to be a pubescent fetishist!

        • Gloria says:

          Well, that’s the real message, isn’t it, Irwin? “Use your foreskin as a pocket during puberty and people will know you’re basically a fetishist.” That’s what you should tell them. I think it’s like eating your boogers. Technically, there’s nothing wrong with it (as a matter of fact, there’s evidence to support that it can boost your immune system.) But it’s gross and private and you can’t do it in front of people. Same thing with sex fetishes.

          Chapter six of my parenting book: Booger Eating and Sex Fetishes: Only Acceptable in Private, and For the Love of God, Wash Your Hands Afterwards.

        • This book is coming together nicely, Gloria! Where is this literature on boogies helping the immune system, by the way? I’ve been researching for years–The folks over at Macarthur (as usual) are being stingy with their fellowships.

        • HAHAHAHA. Fantastic.

          I’d rather be caught eating my own boogers. But I’d rather…use my f—

        • Gloria says:


          According to Austrian lung specialist Dr. Friedrich Bischinger, picking your nose and eating what you find is one of the best (and most inexpensive) ways of staying healthy. The doc goes on to say that people who pick their noses with their fingers were healthier, happier and probably better in-tune with their bodies. “With the finger you can get to places you just can’t reach with a handkerchief, keeping your nose far cleaner,” adds Dr. Bischinger.

        • Gloria says:

          There’s actually tons of evidence. Because I was trying to stop my son to stop. He challenged me. “Oh yeah? It’s bad for me, mom? Why is it bad?” So I started doing some research and couldn’t find one bit of evidence that it’s bad – and even found a handful of vetted reports that claim it’s good for the immune system. But, because I work for public health and because it grosses me (and everyone else out) I met him half way: Fine. Chow down. But do it in private and wash your hands afterwards.

        • Well, I’ll be damned. Good ole Dr. Bischinger–always one step ahead of the plundering theoristic herd. Bravo!!

        • Gloria says:

          Gah! I was trying to get my son to stop…

      • New Orleans Lady says:

        Gloria, I we just connected on a whole new level. Aiden just turned 4. Oh no.

    • Thomas…you’re welcome. Perhaps I could give a lecture at the Institute (poster) for penis research you reference on modernsophist.com, n’est-ce pas? I’m in need of a freelance gig.

  20. Joe Daly says:

    I’ve always been more of an ass man. Which is why Paddington Bear was my preferred partner of choice.

    Thank you for shaking me out of my sense that everything is alright in the world. This was both hilarious, profound, and unnerving. All of which applied before I even reached the end of the title.

  21. Oh. My. God. Amazing, Tyler.


    I’m proud to say that you’ve been a dinner guest in my home. No really, I am.

  22. New Orleans Lady says:

    This was like a train wreck for me. I knew I should stop reading to sheild myself from future damage but I just couldn’t turn my eyes. So funny. And scary. I have a 4 year old boy and I’m not looking forward to scenarios such as this. Wish me luck.

  23. Carrie says:

    Hmm… Is it weird that I’m more curious about the simultaneous double dipping than the fact that you (two) had your dick(s) in Teddy Ruxpin’s mouth? Did you stay friends after the trip to the E.R.?

  24. Marni Grossman says:

    This is, quite possibly, the most embarrassing story I’ve heard. Way more embarrassing the than masturbating with a pie. I’m surprised you haven’t already been approached with offers to write a raunchy teen sex comedy.

    • I remember thinking “Man, that guy has no character, no creativity” as he sat there doin’ it with the pie. It is my dream to write a raunchy teen sex comedy. That would make Mom and Dad proud, finally.

  25. Greg Olear says:


    Yeah, this certainly tops the story a friend of mine tells, of microwaving, and subsequently fucking, a peeled banana.

    Clearly Teddy Ruxpin’s got the looks that kill. ; )

  26. Irene Zion says:


    I don’t know anything about music and I’m dead tired and I can’t make any sense right now, but I can say that I prefer the picture of you which shows the whole horse.
    Nice picture.

  27. Irene Zion says:

    I never do know when you guys are fooling around.
    I’m not Lenore, though, I’m Irene.
    Lenore is my lovely daughter.

    • Irene Zion says:

      I’ve switched my horse-allegiance to you because Boose never replies to me.
      Since you call me Lenore, perhaps I am invisible.
      But at least you reply, so I must make some sort of sound, whether you know who I am or not.

  28. Amanda says:

    I really think my favourite part is the nonstop Crue soundtrack…so even if you’d been able to conceal your weens in the emergency room, the blaring music would draw attention, lots ‘n’ lots of attention…heh…

    Like my mom once told me (in the wake of a tattoo-getting scene gone wrong at age 16), “this thing itself is better punishment than anything I could ever have dreamed up to punish you with for doing such a stupid thing!”

  29. tham says:

    atta boy, t

  30. Sarah Bird says:

    Tyler, Kudos for coming out as the furvert we always suspected you to be. “Cat-lover,” indeed.

  31. Erika Rae says:

    Hi. My name is Teddy Ruxpin. Can you and I be friends?


    Oh, this is funny.


    • Tyler Stoddard Smith says:

      Erika! Hace cuanto tiempo! Thanks for the comment. When you say “Hi. My name is Teddy Ruxpin. Can you and I be friends?” in that robot voice, it makes things even creepier!! Not that I imagine you talking in a robot voice always, just right then.

  32. Cynthia Hawkins says:

    I’ve always wondered why Teddy Ruxpin had to exist and now I know, to make hilariously awesome stories like this possible!

    • Tyler Stoddard Smith says:

      I know what you mean, Cynthia…sometimes it’s the hidden utility (futility?) in things that makes life worth living.

  33. That is way funnier than my piece The Toilet Seat Smashed My Weiner. As I always tell you, you are the funniest writer I have ever known. Each piece is classic. I hope you’re working on a novel. I would buy ten. I don’t even care if it’s filled with 25 chapters of such exploits as yours with Teddy…

    • Nick B., you always know how to make my day. Thanks so much for the support. It means a ton. So, on that note, I’m going to go get my gonads “stuck” in a Zhu Zhu hamster, just so I’ve only got 24 tasteless chapters! VEGAS! Loving your stuff, as usual.

      • Oh man! You have to choose wisely. No LEGOs. No Godzillas. No train sets. Thanks for your kind words as always.

        • Godzillas and train sets somehow remind me of the scene in the classic “One Crazy Summer” where Bobcat Goldthwait gets stuck in a Godzilla outfit and terrorizes that miniature model golf course/country club. If that’s the imagery you were going for–awesome. If not, still awesome–Just without the singing David Lee Roth cheeseburger.

  34. Mom says:

    Kids today. This is not making your Momma proud.

  35. pquerro says:

    Fantastic piece–I laughed my dick off. What? Too early?

  36. Carver Yu says:

    This is the funniest, mot disturbing thing I think I have ever read. What will the kids think up next? Lord, I shudder to think–this is a tough act to follow, in so many ways!

  37. angela says:

    holy shit dude. i thought the image of Teddy Ruxpin lip synching to Motley Crue was funny enough. then came the dicks.

    hilarious in a very disturbing way.

  38. I was at In N Out (really!) with my boys Jordan and Landen today. I asked Landen if he’d read it and he started chuckling that he had (He’s 18). Jordan (20) hadn’t read it yet. He busted out his iPhone and started reading it while we were chowing. He couldn’t stop laughing and said he would send it to some of his friends. I thought he was going to choke on a fry.

  39. sheree says:

    Ha! Seriously funny stuff.

  40. […] TYLER STODDARD SMITH commits unspeakable acts with a Teddy Ruxpin. […]

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