Barbie Story Part IV

Part IV
The Conclusion
Plastic Perfection Sucks

I awoke with a start. Something was wrong. My face felt tight, as if I had left a mud mask on overnight. I tried to sit up, but a weight on my chest made it difficult. Peering down, I saw jutting mountains where sliding molehills once existed. Good Heavens! I must be dreaming.

I shut my eyes, took a big breath, and instructed my brain to wake up. This time I opened my lids as far as they would go and saw … those mountains again … and freakishly long legs that dangled over the foot board. What was going on? Panic choked me. Lunging upward, I heaved my top heavy, stilt-legged body out of bed and stumbled to the mirror.

Plastic perfection gazed back at me. “Oh, no! Oh, please, no! NOT BARBIE!!! That’s not what I meant!”

A feminine voice laughed inside my head. “You asked for perfect and beautiful.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spied a peculiar sight. A miniature VW bug, banana- colored, was racing toward the door. A tiny woman with spiral gray antennas sticking out of her head, and spider vein tattoos located in the strangest places, sat at the wheel.

Be careful what you wish for.

The End.

Be Sociable, Share!

•