You're definitely not the only one who can see them.

[Thank you for stating the obvious, Angela. Of course it's a curse, but that doesn't make shrunken talking Camerons any better. They're actually creepy, to be honest. Angela slowly unsticks herself from the wall to walk towards her fallen purse, giving the desk a wide berth as if those little things can burst through the thick wood.]

So what's the curse this time? Demented lookalike dolls from Hell that don't like to be touched?