Disclaimers: Barbie and Ken are owned by Mattel, I believe. They
are certainly not owned by me. Barbie and Ken are both generic names, anyways,
and this could quite possibly be considered a parody. Perfectly legal. Right?
Right?… Dang.
Notes: Nothing to say. I just enjoy killing the bitch.
Barbie’s not so sure about
this. This land is too big and empty. Where’s all the trees and shopping malls?
Ken looks happy, humming and taking pictures with his brand-new state of the art Canon EOS Rebel 2000 SLR
camera. Barbie should be happy, especially since her khaki short-shorts and white linen tank top are such a nice change from the usual fuchsia-colored mini-dresses and thigh-high boots she has to wear. The new outfit is nice. Casual but elegant. Plus, she loves the hat. It makes such a wonderful accessory.
But she can’t help but be
nervous. The natives keep giving her furtive looks, she’s sure of it. And all
those big animals they can see from the hot-pink Land Rover scare her.
It’s while she’s gone behind
a bush to take care of business that the lion comes up at a run and launches
itself at her neck.
Barbie looks up, screams,
and tries to make a run for it, but her attractive leather Safari high-heeled boots
trip her up on the coarse brush and down she goes. The lion pounces, snarling.
If only she could get to her
pepper spray, safely stored in the back pocket of her trendy khaki shorts – but
alas! The lion has gotten a fast grip on her shoulder and is now tearing her
arm from her body.
Barbie’s terrified screams
drift up into the hot Kenyan sky. The lion’s snarls soon eclipse them.
The lion triumphantly trots
home with Barbie’s leg in its mouth. The natives take home the head.
Ken looks down at his camera
in dismay. “Darn it!” he cries, upset. “I put the film in wrong!”
The End
