Slappy- Glue Surgery

The dummy had been folded up inside the bag. Dad set it down flat on the worktable and carefully unfolded the arms and legs. He looked like a surgeon starting an operation.
“I found this one in a trash can,” he told us. “Do you believe someone just threw it away?”
He tilted the dummy up so we could see it. I followed Dan up to the worktable to get a better look.
“The head was split in two,” Dad said, placing one hand at the back of the dummy’s neck. “But it took two seconds to repair it. Just a little glue.”
...

I moved my lips silently as I struggled to read them. Then I read the words out loud: “Karru marri odonna loma molonu karrano.”
Dan’s mouth dropped open. “Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?” he cried.
He grabbed the paper from my hand. “I think you read it upside down!”
“No way!” I protested.
I glanced down at the dummy.
The glassy blue eyes stared up at me.
Then the right eye slowly closed. The dummy winked at me.
And then his left hand shot straight up—and slapped me in the face.

- Night of the Living Dummy III, chapter 2