My toys were shared because of my impoverished upbringing. But instead of having a little sister [which I do and she's adorable] to share toys with -- I had friends and cousins and whomever my mom would have me babysit to hide toys from. Even though my sister had no interest in playing with my toys, they would magically go missing when my friends would come over. Lots of them. So I had a special box that I hid from company up in my closet. Those held my Voltron Cat, Ninja Turtles, The Knock Off Hot Wheel Cars You Get At Kmart That Rev'd up when you pulled them back and of course my action figures.
I had a good wealth of the cheap Toy Biz X-Men action figures, but one that my mom never got for me was the 1st generation Evil Mutants Apocalypse action figure [with attachable Bazooka. Why an attachable Bazooka? No f**king clue]. It never went in the bargain bin at Kay Bee and I believe it may have been close to 30 dollars [mind you this is the early 90's and then...hell even now that's a lot to spend on a damn toy]. I had this belief that this toy was too valuable to go on sale. I may have thought -- in my 9-year-old brain, that this toy had special powers. [God this is embarrassing]
I sold candy, mowed lawns, shined shoes. Well...maybe not that last one, but I caught the bus a couple years later to buy that damn expensive Apocalypse with the attachable bazooka. Let me tell you how much fun I had taking the bazooka on and off his arm. Then putting it back on his arm. His legs and arms extended, but after a while that felt flimsy, besides...it was really about that bazooka. I hid it from mom when I was done playing with it...she wouldn't understand. That and I'm pretty sure she'd be very pissed if she found out I spent over $10 dollars for an action figure.
Something didn't feel right. This plastic in my hand didn't have the weight I thought it would. Little bits of paint was chipped off on his back where the joints from his shoulder and arm met. There was a small part of me that felt I'd been duped. A part of me that thought that the reason that Apocalypse toy stayed in the same place for years at Kay Bee was because everyone knew how lame of a toy it was.
Days after me getting my dream toy, my mom came to wake me up for school. I rolled over and felt a once solid piece of plastic and metal become several pieces of plastic and metal under the pressure of my left shoulder and arm. I immediately started crying and I covered up the pieces without looking at them. I went to school trying to trick myself into thinking that 'maybe' I was still dreaming when I woke up. But my left shoulder was bruised. And I had the Apocalypse trading card in my pocket, because I was that lame of a child. I knew.
I came home and looked under my pillow, I saw a leg here a bazooka there. I thought I could Elmer's Glue it and use small amounts of silly putty [Silly Putty was awesome if you wanted to have your toys fight each other. When one toy punches the abdomen of their enemy...guts and skin come with]. Nothing doing, I felt this was all my fault. Even if Toy Biz sold me a 'less-than-durable' product, it was something I'd work so hard for -- something that essentially had me lie to my mother.
I went back to the Kay Bee with my mom only to see a new edition of Apocalypse being sold. You can't imagine the rage I felt. It was almost like Kay Bee [and subsequently Toy Biz] waited for me to buy their piece of crap toy just so they could stock their shelves with a new one. Or maybe it was just a coincidence. Who sells a toy for years on end and then one day only sells the new version of it? I still dig Apocalypse, even though his mere existence in the Marvel universe and eventually his 'non-existence' makes no sense whatsoever.
That was the last time I purchased an action figure. I was eleven years old.