Out of all Harold’s dolls, Vinny was his favorite. Vinny was a one-of-a-kind doll that most ventriloquists would kill for. His face was hand-painted, varnished, and polished to a smooth, glossy finish. His body parts were handcrafted using the finest materials, and he was formally dressed in a black suit, white shirt, black shoes, and a big black bow tie. His neatly cut brown hair felt real to the touch, and all his moving parts slid like magic. But what made Vinny so unique was his blue eyes. They were created from a gypsy’s crystal ball and blue-cobalt glass from her seance fire pit.

Harold raged. “What the hell do you know! Have you ever killed someone and made it look like an accident? Huh? Have you!”

“Personally, no,” Vinny answered, “but if we put our heads together-”

“Shut up!” Harold exclaimed, his voice quivering. “Just shut up and let me think for a minute!”

Vinny stared at him. “You are thinking, Harold. You’ve just developed a habit of talking to yourself out loud.”