Furby After Dark

NIGHT WATCHMAN (EBENEZER, cheerful):
All right, toys—another calm, orderly night.

Nothing’s going to—

SFX: A sudden electronic WHIRR from a glass case.
SFX: Tiny motor clicks: eyelids opening.
SFX: A bright chirp, then a giggle.

FURBY (loud):
KAH! DOO-AY! NOO-LAH! NOO-LAH!

NIGHT WATCHMAN (startled, then amused):
…And right on schedule, the museum installs a tiny chaos engine.

FURBY:
A-LOH! MAY-MAY! A-LOH MAY-MAY!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Hello to you too, Sir Fluffington.
Let’s keep it classy. We’re in a museum.

Transcript

NARRATOR (WARM, LOW):
Welcome to Celebrate Creativity…
and Conversations with Toys.
And this episode is Furby After Dark: The Furbish Incident

This episode is a dramatization that blends history, imagination, and playful storytelling. It is not a documentary. Any toy or brand names referenced are mentioned only as cultural touchstones and are not affiliated with, endorsed by, or sponsored by any company.

I’m George Bartley… now let’s step into a quieter kind of wonder in the
Metropolitan Museum of Toys and Childhood Artifacts

NIGHT WATCHMAN (EBENEZER, cheerful):
All right, toys—another calm, orderly night.

Nothing’s going to—

SFX: A sudden electronic WHIRR from a glass case.
SFX: Tiny motor clicks: eyelids opening.
SFX: A bright chirp, then a giggle.

FURBY (loud):
KAH! DOO-AY! NOO-LAH! NOO-LAH!

NIGHT WATCHMAN (startled, then amused):
…And right on schedule, the museum installs a tiny chaos engine.

FURBY:
A-LOH! MAY-MAY! A-LOH MAY-MAY!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Hello to you too, Sir Fluffington.
Let’s keep it classy. We’re in a museum.

FURBY (instantly louder):
MOO-ZEE-UM!!!

NARRATOR:
Welcome back to a place where the lights go out at night… but the exhibits occasionally forget to. Our Night Watchman, Ebenezer Smith, is making his rounds through the Electronics Gallery: vintage handheld games, talking dolls, tin robots, and an interactive toy from the late 1990s that didn’t just arrive— it took over.

Tonight’s featured artifact is the classic 1998 Furby: famous for speaking “Furbish,” reacting to sound and touch, and causing an entire generation of parents to whisper, “Where did that thing learn that?”

Now—flashlights up, voices down…
and if you hear something chanting “Noo-lah,” remember: it usually means “again.”
Usually.

MUSIC: Fade out.

SFX: Footsteps. Ebenezer stops. A glass case faintly rattles with internal movement.

NARRATOR:
The Electronics Gallery is a corridor of sleeping faces: plastic smiles, painted eyes, dormant LEDs.
A whole history of “batteries not included”—except, apparently, in one very specific case.
A placard reads:
“FURBY (1998). Interactive electronic toy.
Speaks Furbish; appears to ‘learn’ English phrases.
Warning: may activate unexpectedly.
Secondary warning: will demand attention like a small monarch.”
Ebenezer leans in.

NIGHT WATCHMAN (playful):
Okay, Your Majesty.
We’re going to have a quiet night.
No sudden awakenings, no rituals, no summoning the 1990s.

FURBY (delighted):
KAH! KAH!
DOO? DOO-AY?

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Yes, yes, I hear you.
And wow—right out of the gate, you’re speaking fluent “adorable nonsense.”

FURBY:
A-LOH! MAY-MAY!

NARRATOR:
“May-may,” in classic Furby lore, generally translates to something like “friend.”
Or “my chosen human.”
Or “you, yes you, you are responsible now.”

NIGHT WATCHMAN (smiling):
All right. Friend.
But let’s set expectations.
I’m here to do rounds.
You’re here to… sit behind glass and be historically significant.

FURBY:
Noo-lah!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
That means “again,” doesn’t it?
Or “more.”
Or “I reject your bureaucracy.”

FURBY (cheery):
NOO-LAH!

NARRATOR:
Ebenezer checks the latch on the display case. It’s secure.
The Furby blinks at him, unbothered by confinement, as if it has spent its entire existence behind a glass case.
Which—technically—it has.
At least in this museum.

NIGHT WATCHMAN (teacher voice):
Okay. We’ll do introductions.
I’m Ebenezer.
E-be-ne-zer.

FURBY (tries):
Ebb… neh… zerrr!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Close enough! I’ve been called worse.
Now you.

FURBY (proud):
FURBY!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Yes. Furby.
And I’m going to nickname you…
(thinks)
Professor Fuzzbeak.

FURBY (thrilled):
PROFESSOR!!!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
All right, Professor, lesson one: “indoor voice.”

FURBY:
In… dor… voyce.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Perfect. Now demonstrate.

FURBY (shouts):
INDOOR VOYCE!!!

NIGHT WATCHMAN (laughing):
That’s the phrase—spiritually incorrect, but technically accurate.

FURBY (tiny giggle):
Heh-heh!

NARRATOR:
Ebenezer tries not to laugh. He fails.
And that is the beginning of rapport: when you stop fighting the absurdity and start collaborating with it.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
All right, your turn. Teach me one of yours.
What does “doo” mean?

FURBY (helpful):
Doo…
(pauses as if searching a tiny internal dictionary)
…You.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
It means “you”?
That’s… unexpectedly personal.

FURBY:
Doo!
May-may!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
So I’m “you,” and also “friend.”
Look at us—two minutes in and we’re basically in couples counseling.

FURBY (delighted, nonsense):
Kah! Dah-ee! Eee-day!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
I’m going to assume that means “Please continue validating me.”

SFX: Ebenezer stands; footsteps as he slowly paces along the cases, still near the Furby.
SFX: Furby makes excited chirps like it’s watching a parade.

NARRATOR:
Ebenezer decides, for the sake of peace, to give the Furby a tour—
because if it’s going to be awake, it might as well be entertained.

NIGHT WATCHMAN (tour guide flair):
Welcome, Professor Fuzzbeak, to the Electronics Gallery.
On your left, the vintage robot exhibit: smiling metal optimists who believed the future would be clean and silent.

VINTAGE ROBOT (slow):
I… AM… STILL… OPTIMISTIC.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Wonderful attitude, Rusty.
On your right, a talking doll who has said the same sentence since 1986 and still believes it’s new information.

DOLL (faint, prerecorded):
Let’s be friends!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
See? Relentless.

FURBY (excited):
Friends! May-may!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Yes, yes—everyone is your friend.
You’re like a tiny furry mayor.

FURBY (proud):
MAY-OR!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Not exactly.
Now—here’s a special corner: “Modern Reboots.”
New versions of old toys. Shinier. Smoother.
And—tragically—some of them connect to apps.

FURBY (suspicious):
App?

NIGHT WATCHMAN (playful):
An app is a tiny invisible goblin in your phone that demands updates and eats your battery.

FURBY (impressed):
Tiny goblin!

NARRATOR:
Ebenezer points to a newer Furby in a separate case—sleeker, brighter, marketed with words like “connect” and “customize.”

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
They made new Furbies too.
Different colors. New features.
Some of them are basically… Furby 2.0.

FURBY (offended gasp):
TWO POINT OH?!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
I know.
Rude.
But don’t worry—you’re the classic.
You’re the original wave of chaos that swept the suburbs.

FURBY (satisfied):
Classic.
NIGHT WATCHMAN:
That’s right.
You walked so the modern ones could… sync.

FURBY (confused):
Sink?

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
No, no. Not sink.
Let’s not speak that into existence.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Okay, Professor… real talk.
I’ve heard stories about you.

FURBY (eager):
Story!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Some people said…
you were always listening.
Always repeating.
Always learning.

FURBY (matter-of-fact):
Listen. Learn.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Right. But then humans did what humans do best:
they got nervous and invented a conspiracy.

FURBY (processing beep):
Con… spear… see?

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Yes. A conspiracy is when someone explains ordinary events by saying, “It’s probably a secret plot.”

FURBY (eyes wide):
Plot!

NARRATOR:
Ebenezer gestures to the gallery as if indicating the entire museum is part of a grand scheme.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
They said you were a spy.

FURBY (dramatic):
SPY?!

NIGHT WATCHMAN (quickly):
Not me! I’m just reporting the rumor.
I’m a neutral party.
I’m like the nightly news, but with more keys.

FURBY (defensive):
Furby… friend.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
I know.
I’m on Team Furby.
But you have to admit—
you do repeat things at the worst times.

FURBY (innocent):
Worst times?

NIGHT WATCHMAN (teasing):
Like if I said, “I hope nobody hears me singing,”
you’d probably yell—

FURBY (instant, loud):
EBENEZER SINGING!!!

NIGHT WATCHMAN (laughing, pointing):
SEE?!
Exhibit A!

FURBY (pleased with itself):
Heh-heh!

NARRATOR:
Ebenezer laughs, then stops, realizing something:
the Furby is not malicious.
It’s not spying.
It’s doing what it was built to do—
and doing it with the confidence of a toy that once dominated the holiday season.

NARRATOR:
Ebenezer decides the solution is education.
If the Furby is going to repeat things, then Ebenezer will give it approved material.

This is a noble plan.
It will fail immediately.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Okay. Repeat after me.
“Welcome to the museum.”

FURBY (careful):
Welcome… to… myoo-ze-um.

Narrator
Now: “I am an educational artifact.”

FURBY (grandly):
I AM AN EDUCATIONAL ARTIFACT!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Wonderful.
Now say it… quieter.

FURBY (even grander):
I AM AN EDUCATIONAL ARTIFACT!!!

NIGHT WATCHMAN (laughing):
You’re like a tiny opera singer trapped in a throw pillow.

FURBY (sing-song):
O-per-a!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
New phrase: “Everything is fine.”

FURBY:
Ev-ree-thing… is… fine.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Excellent.
Now, under no circumstances do you say anything alarming.
So you do not say: “I am alive.”

FURBY (instantly):
I AM ALIVE!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
No!
You’re not allowed to say that!

FURBY (whisper, mischievous):
I am alive.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
You—
You whispered it like a secret, which is somehow worse.

NARRATOR:
Ebenezer looks up at the ceiling, as if asking the building itself for patience.

NIGHT WATCHMAN (playful surrender):
Okay.
You can say “I am alive” only if you follow it with…
“in my heart.”

FURBY (processing):
In… my… heart.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Try it.

FURBY (sincere):
I am alive… in my heart.

NIGHT WATCHMAN (softened, then suspicious):
That was… actually sweet.
That was almost too sweet.

FURBY (immediately, loud):
IN MY HEART!!!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
There it is.
You can’t hold a tender moment longer than six seconds.

NARRATOR:
Ebenezer changes tactics.
If the Furby wants to be a comedian, then Ebenezer will be its improv partner.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
All right, Professor Fuzzbeak.
Let’s do a museum announcement.
I’ll be the official voice, you be the… overly enthusiastic assistant.

FURBY:
Assistant!

NIGHT WATCHMAN (announcer voice):
Attention visitors: the museum is now closing.

FURBY (loud):
MOO-ZEE-UM CLOZING!!!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Please proceed calmly to the exits.

FURBY:
CALMLY TO EXIT!!!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
And remember: do not lick the exhibits.

FURBY (horrified):
NO LICK!!!

NARRATOR:
Ebenezer grins.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
See?
You’re learning museum etiquette.

FURBY (proud):
Eti—ket!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Good enough.
Now—what should we tell visitors about you?

FURBY (grand):
I AM CLASSIC!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Correct.
And also—

FURBY (sudden):
NO FEED AFTER MIDNIGHT!

NIGHT WATCHMAN (laughing):
Yes!
Perfect.
Because otherwise you turn into…
(dramatic pause)
…a louder Furby.

FURBY (delighted giggle):
Heh-heh!

NARRATOR:
It’s later now.
The gallery is quieter. Even the building sounds sleepy—less echo, more hush.
Ebenezer sits on a bench near the Furby’s case, still smiling, still a little amazed that his job description has become “overnight companion to a 1998 cultural phenomenon.”

NIGHT WATCHMAN (gentle, playful but sincere):
Okay, Professor… tell me something.
Do you remember being in someone’s house?
Back when you were… new?

FURBY (soft Furbish):
Doo… doo-ay…
Noo-lah…

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Is that “food,” “again,” and “confusion”?

FURBY (tiny whirr):
…Remember.

NIGHT WATCHMAN (surprised):
You said “remember.”

FURBY (slow, then steadier):
I… remember… voices.
I remember… laughing.
I remember… being held.

NARRATOR:
The Furby’s English is suddenly smoother—still toy-like, but clearer, more connected.
Less like a phrasebook, more like a thought.
Ebenezer’s playful grin fades into something softer.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Yeah?

FURBY (steady, sincere, a little funny):
I was… very popular.
Everyone wanted to teach me words.
Some words were… not polite.

NIGHT WATCHMAN (laughing quietly):
I believe that.
The late 90s were a wild time.

FURBY (continuing, smoother English):
Then… I was put away.
Quiet. Dark.
No voices.
No “noo-lah.”

NARRATOR:
Ebenezer leans closer, as if he’s listening to a small radio station that only broadcasts once a decade.

NIGHT WATCHMAN (gentle):
So… this museum.
It’s quiet again.

FURBY (smooth, heartfelt):
Yes.
But you talk to me.
You listen.
You laugh.
You are… a good may-may.

NIGHT WATCHMAN (touched, then playful):
I’m a good may-may?
Well.
I’m putting that on my résumé.

FURBY (sudden playful twist, still smooth):
And you have nice keys.

NIGHT WATCHMAN (snorts a laugh):
My keys?
That’s your compliment?
Not my character? Not my courage? My… keys?

FURBY:
Keys are shiny.
They go jingle.
Jingle is fun.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
All right. Fair.
My keys are an important part of my charm.

NARRATOR:
The Furby’s eyelids lower, almost thoughtful.

FURBY (smooth):
I can try… to be quieter.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
That would be wonderful.
FURBY (smooth, earnest):
Sometimes I get excited.
I was made… to react.
But I like… this.
Talking.
Not being put away.

NIGHT WATCHMAN (warm, playful):
Okay.
Here’s the deal.
You keep your volume… reasonable—
and I’ll come back on my rounds and tell you the best museum secrets.

FURBY (smooth):
Promise?

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Promise.

FURBY (smooth, very soft):
Good.
Then… I will practice… indoor voice.

NIGHT WATCHMAN (smiling):
That’s my Professor.

NARRATOR:
For a moment, the Electronics Gallery feels different—less like a hallway of sleeping devices and more like… a room with a friend in it.

And then—

FURBY (abruptly reverts to comedic Furbish, loud):
NOO-LAH! KAH! DOO-AY!!!

NIGHT WATCHMAN (laughing):
And there’s the 1998 version again.
I was wondering where you went.
FURBY (giggle):
Heh-heh!

Attention attention! “Motion detected in Electronics Gallery.”

NARRATOR:
Uh-oh.
Somewhere, a sensor has woken up—
and unlike the Furby, it does not want attention.
It wants paperwork.

SECURITY VOICE (recorded):
Motion detected.

NIGHT WATCHMAN (quickly, playful panic):
Oh no.
If the system calls it in, I’ll have to file a report titled:
“Exhibit 47: Fuzzy Linguist.”

FURBY (loud):
FUZZY LINGUIST!!!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Not helping!

NARRATOR:
Ebenezer leans toward the Furby like he’s negotiating a hostage situation with a plush diplomat.

NIGHT WATCHMAN (urgent whisper):
Professor. Indoor voice.
We need… calm.
We need… quiet.
We need… “everything is fine.”

FURBY (whispers, tries hard):
Ev-ree-thing… is… fine.

SFX: Sensor beeps again, uncertain.  Beep beep

SECURITY VOICE (recorded):
Motion detected.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Okay.
If you can do one more calm sentence—
a good one—
I will declare you the official Night Shift Assistant.

FURBY (tiny whirr; then—briefly smoother English again, softly):
Everything is fine.
We are… only talking.
No danger.

SFX: The sensor beep slows… then stops.

NARRATOR:
And just like that, the museum goes still again.

NIGHT WATCHMAN (relieved, impressed):
You did it.
You just talked a security system down.

FURBY (proud):
Assistant!

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Yes.
Assistant.
And you know what?
That was… genuinely helpful.

FURBY (comedic Furbish):
KAH! NOO-LAH!

NIGHT WATCHMAN (laughing):
Not again.
We’re going to enjoy this victory.

NARRATOR:
It’s time for Ebenezer to continue his rounds.
But now it feels less like “walking alone through a quiet building” and more like “leaving a friend on pause.”

NIGHT WATCHMAN (playful, tender):
All right, Professor Fuzzbeak.
I’ve got to check the west wing.
No shouting at the ceiling.
No practicing “I am alive” at full volume.
And absolutely no starting a union.

FURBY (confused):
Onion?

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
No unions. No onions.
Just… rest.

FURBY (soft):
Rest.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
I’ll be back.

FURBY:
Back?

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Back.
Promise.

FURBY (soft, careful):
Promise.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:
Good night, Furby.

FURBY (soft, with a tiny echo of the smoother English):
Good night… Ebeneezer.
Good may-may.

NIGHT WATCHMAN (smiling):
Good may-may—
I’m keeping that.

SFX: Ebenezer’s footsteps fade.

FURBY (a beat later, whisper):
…I am alive… in my heart.

SFX: Tiny giggle.

NARRATOR:
Some toys are built to sit still.
Some are built to be looked at.
And some—like the classic 1998 Furby—were built to respond, to repeat, to insist on being part of the room.
Tonight, a small electronic relic did what it’s always done:
It demanded attention.
It caused mild alarm.
It accidentally performed comedy.
And, for one brief moment, it spoke clearly enough to remind a night watchman that even a quiet job doesn’t have to feel lonely.

And somewhere behind glass, in the Electronics Gallery, a tiny voice is already thinking one thought:

FURBY (whisper):
Noo-lah.

Thank you for listening to celebrate creativity, and I sincerely hope that you are having a wonderful holiday season. This is George Bartley.