The Hand in its youth
In a coup of investigative reporting, American Values has managed to track down & interview that insidious, creepy, crawling, strangling terror of children's nightmares - yes, "The Crawling Hand"! Now in retirement, The Crawling Hand reluctantly agreed to a short interview with our reporter, Natasha, as long as we agreed not to reveal The Crawling Hand's location.
Natasha: Mr. The Crawling Hand, you claim that you were the prime cause of fright in children. Yet your competitors, such as The Monster Under The Bed would disagree. How do you respond?
The Crawling Hand: First of all, please call me Hand. I prefer informality. As to what TMUTB has to say, well, all it did was lie under beds, jump out once in awhile & growl. I had to do all the damn crawling. You try crawling all night long on your hands & knees...er...your hand... & see how you like it. It's not as easy as it looks.
The Hand now - feeble
Natasha: How many have you strangled over the years?
The Crawling Hand: Listen, I ain't saying nothing about that! I got a lawyer & he says to say nothing. The last thing I need to hear is a cop saying, "Put your hand up." But I will say that I never strangled children. Just scared the heck out of them, gave them a fright is all.
Natasha: How did your career get started? I mean, it certainly is an unusual occupation.
The Crawling Hand: Yeah, well, as a young one everybody was picking on me, pointing fingers at me & laughing, because I was different. They would say mockingly, "Look, there goes The Crawling Hand. Ooh wow, scary, dude." You know how kids are. Well, I looked around, saw there was an opening for another nightmare, so I grabbed it.
Natasha: It must have been a fun career for you.
The Crawling Hand: Fun? Yeah, it had its moments, like when I'd creep into a kids' bedroom & they'd run out screaming. But it was hard work too. Hard on the nails. Cost a fortune in manicures. Then there was the night work. I've always hated the night shift, but ya do what ya gotta do. I mean, ya can't go crawling around in broad daylight. How stupid would that be?
Natasha: And I understand you have a family.
The Crawling Hand: Yup. Gotta a great wife. Her father was The Claw. Maybe ya've seen her on those lobster commercials on tv. Got a great boy, too. Name is Pinkie. Handsome lad. I kid him that he's cute-icle. That's a joke. He's my right hand man around here. But I don't want him to get into this business. I want him to knuckle down in school & not thumb his nose at society like I did.
Natasha: So how's retirement?
The Crawling Hand: It's not too bad. Can't get around too much, what with the arthritis & all. I was thinking of getting a crawler so I can move around a bit. Know any good hand-me-downs?
Natasha: I'm afraid not.
The Crawling Hand: Listen - gotta go now - supper. We're having finger food. Thanks for stopping by. It's good to be remembered.
Natasha: My pleasure, Hand. Thank you. Pleasant dreams.
The Hand's son
The Crawling Hand was last seen by our intrepid reporter, Natasha, as it struggled pathetically to cut through a steak while holding a fork & knife between its' fingers. A sad ending indeed to what was once an illustrious career.
....from sea to shining sea