In my purse:
In my medicine cabinet:
It even haunts me from atop sacred writings from God:
The ear doctor denies any hand in this maniacal plot to slowly drive me insane. He vehemently denies moving this little creepy object from place to place to surprise me. He has assured me that his is not the hand that strikes fear into the very depths of my soul. So the only conclusion is that I am being haunted from another world by a small, round, plastic pumpkin with a rubber tongue that extends when you squeeze him.
See, TERRIFYING, huh?