Ken swiped $20 dollars from Barbie’s purse while she was in the
bathroom with her fingers down her throat. He didn’t think she’d
notice but he wondered later if she did and he began to feel bad, but after a while he just stopped thinking about it.

He heard the faucet running behind the door and wondered if Barbie had managed to get all the pizza out fast enough before she had a chance to digest.

When she came out her eyes were red and she covered her face. He stared at her trying to make her feel uncomfortable. His plan was to make her feel uncomfortable so she wouldn’t be thinking about the money that was no longer in her purse and he move towards her pretending to look serious like he was about to kiss her but he knew she wouldn’t because she didn’t want him to catch the vomit on her breath.

The pizza box sat on the table wide open with a few remaining slices staring at Barbie with pepperoni eyes. It made her feel nauseous so the flipped the box closed and poured herself another glass of wine.

Ken said he’d like to have another glass too.

It’s the last of it, she said.

Why not give it to me, he said. You’re only going to make yourself
throw it up again.

I’m not sick like that, she said.

He asked her what she had just done in the Barbie Dream Bathtub Bathroom.

I was washing my face with my Barbie Bathroom Set, she said. That’s all.

He said that he didn’t believe her, that she didn’t look like she had
just washed her face. He said that she was lying, that she always
does.

Barbie hung her head and her lips began to quiver.

See, Ken said. You really need professional help.

He began to feel sorry for her and told her it was alright but he felt
tricked by his own compassion. He thought about all the other times he felt betrayed by his own sympathy, including the time in the Barbie Princess Castle when Barbie vomited off the balcony into the moat, the time at the Barbie Mermaid Falls when Barbie said she had eaten when she really hadn’t, and the time on the Barbie Party Cruise when Barbie leaned over the railing and puked when she thought no one was looking.

Later, Ken rubbed Barbie’s back and kissed her legs in the Barbie
Dream Bedroom. She proudly laid back and let him explore her
emaciated regions. He wanted to get inside her Barbie Cheerleader
Outfit.

She said he could if he would hang her clothes up neatly. Careful,
she said. You’re ripping it.

He said she could undress herself and rolled over then jacked-off on her Barbie Vanity Mirror and left the room.

Where are you going? she asked.

He said something indecipherable but looked very serious.

She discovered him the next morning curled up in the Barbie Magic
Meadow Playset sleeping beneath a plastic fountain in a bed of flowers spooning a toadstool.

She nudged him and said she was going to the Barbie Stable because she felt like a ride.

He smiled and said she looked like she needed one and went back to sleep.

On the way over, Barbie drove her Barbie Escalade and stopped at the Barbie Donut Shop. She had a three frosted donuts. She told herself it would be alright as long as she remembered swing by the Barbie Workout Center and ride the bike for a few hours.

She sat there for a while, feeling confused. She wanted to run and jump and do something fun but she wasn’t sure if anything would be fun or enjoyable if she spent every minute thinking about the donuts she had just eaten. She felt that she was fat, that her life was over, that she was sure she would wake up tomorrow morning and be the size of a Barbie Fashion Fever Velvet Crush Couch and that she would probably be too blubbery to get out of bed at all. She felt horrible and shivered. She sucked in her stomach and looked down at her Barbie Dressy Casual High Heel Shoes. When she was sure no one was looking, she went over to the counter and ordered another donut. She
sobbed quietly as she nibbled.

 

 

 

Adam’s writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Underground
Voices, The Corduroy Mtn., Red Fez, DOGZPLOT, Titular, Gloom Cupboard,
Ducts, among other places. He is also a contributor to the Nashville
Scene and the Huffington Post. He lives in Brooklyn and works in
publishing. Find him here: http://adam-m.synthasite.com