He Died in 1997. He Lives on My Shelf. — The Deddy Bears Bones Story

I need to tell you about the shopping trolley.

The Deddy Bears Bones Skeleton Plush is a 30cm gothic horror plush toy that arrives in a zipped body bag, complete with an autopsy report. I knew this before I bought it — I'd read about the Deddy Bears range and the autopsy report format and found it delightful. What I didn't know, until I opened the body bag and read the report, was the specific cause of death.

Bones met his end in June 1997 after a run-in with a shopping trolley.

I read this three times. I showed it to my wife. We both laughed for a long time. Then I read it again, because it deserved a third reading. A skeleton bear who died in 1997 because of a shopping trolley. The specificity of it. The commitment to the bit. The particular mundane horror of a shopping trolley as the instrument of a bear's demise. It is, I maintain, one of the finest sentences I have read on any product documentation in my forty-one years of life.

Why I Bought Bones

I'd been aware of the Deddy Bears range for a while — my daughter has some of the smaller coffin plush bears and I'd been quietly impressed by the quality and the character of the range. When I found Bones specifically — a named character rather than a mystery assortment, a skeleton bear with his own backstory, 30cm and arriving in a body bag — I knew he was the one I wanted for my own shelf.

The skeleton aesthetic is the right aesthetic for a gothic plush. Bones is not trying to be scary — he's trying to be charming, and the skeleton design achieves that in a way that other horror aesthetics don't always manage. There's something inherently friendly about a skeleton bear. He's already done the worst thing that can happen to you. He's fine about it. He's moved on. He just wants to sit on your shelf and be appreciated.

The Unboxing

The body bag is properly body-bag shaped and properly body-bag sized for a 30cm bear. I unzipped it at the kitchen table on a Saturday morning, which is becoming my preferred time for Deddy Bears unboxings. Inside: Bones, 30cm, looking up at me with the serene expression of a bear who has made peace with his situation. And the autopsy report, folded neatly, detailing the circumstances of his demise.

I read the report aloud to my wife, who was making coffee. She stopped making coffee to listen. When I got to the shopping trolley, she put down the coffee entirely. We stood in the kitchen on a Saturday morning reading an autopsy report for a skeleton bear who died in 1997, and it was one of the better Saturday mornings we've had recently.

Bones himself is beautifully made. The skeleton detailing is rendered in the plush itself — the bone structure of his body is part of the fabric construction rather than just printed on, which gives him a texture and dimensionality that makes him genuinely interesting to look at up close. He's soft in the way that good plush is soft, with a slight weight that makes him feel substantial rather than cheap. At 30cm he has a proper presence on a shelf.

The 1997 Detail

I want to dwell on this for a moment, because I think it's the detail that makes Bones exceptional rather than just good. The autopsy report could have given a vague cause of death. It could have said something generically spooky. Instead it gives a specific year — 1997 — and a specific, mundane, absurd cause: a shopping trolley. This is the work of someone who thought carefully about what would be funny and committed to it completely.

1997 is a specific year. I was seventeen in 1997. I remember 1997. The idea of a bear dying in 1997 because of a shopping trolley is funnier than the idea of a bear dying in any other year because of any other cause, and I've thought about why and I think it's because 1997 is recent enough to feel real but distant enough to feel historical, and a shopping trolley is mundane enough to be absurd but specific enough to be credible. It's perfect. Whoever wrote that autopsy report is a genius and I mean that sincerely.

Where Bones Lives

Bones is on my desk, which is where I spend most of my working day. He faces me while I work. He has the expression of a bear who has seen things — specifically, a shopping trolley, in June 1997 — and who has emerged from the experience with equanimity and a certain philosophical calm. I find this helpful on difficult days. If Bones can be serene about what happened to him, I can probably manage whatever is happening to me.

The autopsy report is pinned to the wall next to him. It deserves to be displayed. It is, I maintain, excellent writing.

My Verdict

Buy Bones. Read the autopsy report. Think about the shopping trolley. The Deddy Bears Bones Skeleton Plush is in our Plush Toys collection and our wider Baby Toys & Activity Equipment collection. He's been waiting since 1997. He's very patient.

— Pete Larkin