Old ladies’ stuff - part 8

There are only a small number of things that make me feel clammy, spine-chilling horror: clowns, assembly instructions from IKEA, evil kittens, the sky falling on my head, and lifelike baby dolls.
You never know when you’re going to encounter the first four in the newspapers, but on Sundays, the latter terror is a near-certainty.
These things are the granny equivalent of the pickled Ripleys in Alien Resurrection. She may wear fluffy slippers and a housecoat, but if that old dear invites you in, watch what she puts in your cup of tea. And never, ever, accept a piece of Battenberg cake.

Grace, recalling the sweaty heat of the birthing room and the midwife who doesn’t speak English.

Emily, the angry result of ET’s liaison with Elliott’s sister.
Looks like David Jason.

Raven, because made-up statistics show that women born in the UK before 1950 still dream about getting ravished by all of those dastardly yet handsome Red Indians. Simultaneously.
(See also Old ladies’ stuff - part 5)

Michael, who was destined to become a tracksuit-wearing football hooligan who goes on Spanish holidays and vomits in his curry paella. Emphasis on was because granny got to the formaldehyde before Michael’s teenage mother returned from the newsagent with her packet of fags and bottle of gin.

Observe Hannah’s fixed stare and floppy mouth. Yes, this girl became special after years of being secretly fed granny’s secret medicine.
The Hannah doll is particularly popular with paedophiles.
(See also: Old ladies’ stuff - part 5)

And evil kittens too!