Much thanks :-) Should have seen my face when this happened in game, I almost pulled a fainting duchess routine, lol.

Was it your first encounter with one?

I had just stepped through the portal into the Nether and the scenery already had my hairs standing on end.
The dim cavernous expanse was awkwardly silent as I made my way about, collecting the new materials with a mixture of childlike glee and a healthy dollop of dread working their way in waves across my spine.
Over a ridge came small pack of zombie pigmen, shambling toward me, after an intense fight, the last fell to the floor and dropped its prize in a poof of what I would imagine to be a foul-smelling cloud of decay. While I was collecting the last of my hard earned loot I heard it... that awfully misplaced sound of a drooling toddler's giggle and the delighted "coo" of a sleepy baby... I turned and saw... nothing. Looking back and forth to find the source of the noise I could feel panic rising from the pit of my stomach and I knew it was time to return home and restock, so I began to retrace my steps back to the portal and realized... I had no clue where it was! During the fight with the pigmen I had been turned around and knocked off so many ridges I had no clue how to return home. As I stood on the edge of a cliff attempting to scout familiar rock formations the giggling chimed in again as though it could sense my panic and was mocking it's cornered prey. Square in front of me, from beneath the cliff, began to rise it's pink cubed form. Confusion turned to dread when it's eyes passed my field of view, followed a second later by it's mouth, then finally it's many tentacles. To confirm my worst fears, it giggled. This was indeed my monstrous stalker. Trap sprung, it belched a ball of flame which engulfed me before I could jump out of the way, sending me cascading into the dark pit below. The last thing I remember before hitting the rocks below was it's innocent giggle, the sound which now inspires a paralytic dread, deep in my bones that which the devil himself would be proud.
Meanwhile in real life, I was screaming like a Bieber fan, eyes stretched to the limit and face contorted, reminiscent of Edvard Munch's 'Skrik'. Afterward, to my pleasant surprise, the shrill of my panicked vocalizations apparently did not hit a pitch high enough to shatter all glass in the neighborhood, but I would not take the risk to venture into the Neather again for quite some time.