Toy Eulogy: #0087: It From the Pit

Several years back, I expressed with some amusement the board game renaissance of the 90s. Everything was bigger, bolder and more needlessly elaborate as companies like Milton Bradley and Parker Brothers threw as much shit at the walls as they could to see what would stick. Everyone of my generation no doubt has at least one utterly superfluous offering, and I can just imagine the bemusement of the factory workers assembling all of this bizarre crap on the production line.

"What's this one?"

"I dunno. Something about not waking daddy. I think he's a mean drunk."

And once again, we dip into that well, with potentially the largest box I ever owned, short of the one I live in. Words can hardly express the giddiness I feel as I gaze upon the absolute majesty held in the above photo. I suppose they'll have to do, though, because in the medium of blogging, I don't really have many other options beyond that. I could do an interpretive dance and hope that you somehow just pick up on my vibes, but the last time I tried solving my issues that way I ended up with a $300 fine and five months probation. I haven't been allowed near a Dairy Queen since.

But that's another story for another ~~day~~ trial. For today, I have only aspirations to get away from It. It From the Pit. In case you thought I meant the other It from Colorado. Haven't seen him in eons.

Fuck yes.

Look at that fucking thing, reaching out and plucking tiny little people from their hiding places. He doesn't give a single shit about your feelings, and probably whacked thousands of kids in the hands as they tried desperately to save their plastic familiars. No touching, you filthy children, they're mine now.

In addition, It was also excellent at cleaning up after you were done, helpfully collecting all of the loose pieces and storing them in the eternal hell of his swamp until you were ready to play again.

Needless to say, the ad was the driving factor behind buying It From the Pit. With its seamless blend of animation and montage of kids going 'ahh!', it was a hype machine like no other. And that theme song? It's easily in my top 10 songs I can readily remember right at this moment. Top 3 in fact, because I can only think of 3.

But are you brave enough to look at the back...?

Holy shit, It From the Pit has lore.

You're deep in the jungle, hunting for hidden gold. Step by step, you circle a giant, swirling slime pit. Beware! Danger lurks within.

Suddenly, angry eyes pop open and a giant green claw reaches out from the dark depths of the pit. Look out! It's coming towards you! It's IT FROM THE PIT!

The huge claw crashes down on the path, just missing you. Whew! You might not be so lucky next time. Will you be first to find the treasure and win? Or will you get grabbed and dragged deep into the pit?

Repetition of the adjective 'giant' notwithstanding, that's some epic shit right there. You can just feel the humidity of the tropics, your brow dripping with sweat as you amble helplessly on the precipice of doom. The fact that you don't just drop your shit and piss bolt the minute this gargantuan beast surfaces from the bog is a testament to either your courage or your greed.

I have never been as excited about anything as that kid on the right is to be playing It From the Pit. He looks like he just saw his friend get punched in the face by a stripper. You know that feeling; it's pure catharsis.

I can't help but wonder who it is that is about to lose their piece in this shot, however, because all three of them look pretty fucking stoked. I guess they all just really hate that one piece, and upon closer inspection, I kinda get it. It looks like an asshole.

There are far too many amazing things going on on this box to list them all, but I'll reel off a few anyway:

The tagline "it will really grab you" is either an excellent pun or a legitimate threat, and both of those possibilities are equally enticing.
The French name for It From the Pit is 'La Chose', which translates to 'the Thing'. Not nearly as catchy, but I prefer to think of it actually being a prophetic foretelling of how Los Angeles lost all of their pro football franchises in the 90s. Like, LA Chose... and it chose wrong!
"The creature's creepy eyes pop open! It sees you and shrieks!" is actually code for: "This thing is really fucking noisy and will annoy the whole household."

Here are your fearless explorers. The precarious purples, the ostentatious oranges, the trepidatious turquoises and those fucking asshole whites. Plus a small cat that I fashioned out of paper and cardboard for some reason. His allegiances remain unclear.

As I tended to do, I needlessly assigned importance to my pieces based on who I deemed most expendable. I tried to keep the strutting man alive because he reminded me of Dr. Alan Grant, and the chick with her hand on her boobs was cool, too. It's as if she's fending off It From the Pit by beating her chest like a gorilla in the ultimate display of intimidation. The bitch with the binoculars wasn't any good, because come on man, the monster is right fucking there. You don't need a visual aid.

Truth be told, sometimes when a piece I like was nabbed, I begged to reach in and swap it out for the binoculars woman. I was a weird kid. I am now a weird man. Hence why I'm talking about children's board games.

Anyhow, the point of the game, as we've established, is to land on the treasure at the end of the board. You take turns rolling the die and moving ahead, with the option to take a pit stop (pun?) on higher ground like a sissy coward. Meanwhile, It spins around like he was at the disco and had taken all of the drugs. Theoretically, if you were an asshole, you could move up to the safe route and really take your time before your next roll, hoping that your rivals were snagged in the meantime.

Once you've arrived at your destination, you'll loop around a circle until you land on the exact spot where the treasure is located; one of those board game rules that makes sense in the literal context, but is kind of funny when you think about it contextually. What exactly is that silly blue explorer doing? Are they just wandering past the chest and deciding that they need another lap before they've really earned it?

With all of that being said, let's turn this sucker on and watch him molest!!

...Wait, what?

It, bro, that's your cue. I put a brand new battery in your clacker and pressed the 'on' button. This isn't 'on', It. This is decidedly stationary. You won't be stopping anyone from stealing your treasure at this rate, dammit! (And no, it isn't because this is a photograph, you smartass, my fucking monster isn't moving.)

A quick scan of the instructions isn't helping, because for some reason the English version is nowhere to be found. I guess we assumed that only a French Canadian could fix any potential It-related issues (henceforth Itssues), because there is more Français here than a Montreal Alouettes documentary.

"Le premier joueur qui s'arrête sur la case du coffre au trésor par un compte exact, gagne!"

What does that fucking mean?? I'm assuming it's talking about the ultimate joy only arriving when you trespass upon the exact compartment, Verne Gagne. But that doesn't help me at all. It seems that my stupid board game is, as the French say, le fucked.

I'm trying to work out why, but I'm no mechanic. My responsibility only goes so far as pressing the button and watching as innocent people get killed by a ravenous beast. It makes the vaguest of sounds, as if it's considering perhaps doing something, before ultimately deciding that it's just not worth it.

Does it have something to do with the fact that I didn't remove its battery for many years?

A battery that was best if installed by January 1998?

What a ripoff! The commercial assured me that I couldn't get away from It (It From the Pit), but unless I accidentally trip and fall into the swamp, I'm confident that it's really, really, really easy to get away from It. You swindler! You swine! You owe me the $5 I expounded on two C batteries, because it's not possible to buy just one. You owe me the time I wasted setting you up and opining about how fantastic you would be. You owe me my dreams, It, and those are the most precious commodity of all.

I suppose I will just have to admit defeat and slink off into the shadows, unable to provide you with the ecstasy of watching a twenty-six year old toy do something. I mean, all it takes is a quick scan of YouTube to find other people with Its that work perfectly well, but it's just not the same. I wanted it to be my It. I wanted to relive the innocent bliss of my childhood, but instead got a grim reminder of my adulthood; broken and clearly not going anywhere. This game has turned fucking real, man. Too fucking real.