“Go, quickly. We must have like, the element of surprise on our side,” Princess Bratz ordered. With one sentence she unleashed the army of an entire civilization: Bratz World.
“The order has been sent. The Barbies won’t know what hit them,” Officer Bratzfield replied.
“Good, good,” said Princess Bratz, “Finally, Bratz World will have enough toys for like, every Bratz child. No one will be turned away. No child will be told, like I was, that there weren’t enough toys for them to have another. No more sacrifice.”
------
Row by row, the army of Bratz marched closer and closer, each face identical, smiling, and made up. Inside Barbie Security Headquarters, sirens began blaring.
“Intruder alert. Intruder alert. Intruder alert. Unidentified movement.”
Lights flashed. The head military commander looked through his binoculars, towards the advancing army. “There’s at least twenty thousand of them, and there could be more. What do we do?”
His second in command responded gravely: “it’s clear we have only one choice. I must send the distress call.” With that he pushed a small red button, initiating a well-rehearsed country-wide call to arms.
------
Ashley Jameson was painting her nails when the sirens erupted. “Oh crapnoodle,” she thought, “how am I supposed to go fight a war when my nails are wet?” She blew on them, pondering. “I guess I’ll just wait for them to dry. It’s probably like, just another drill, anyways.” She blew on them again.
About seven minutes later, when her nails were fully dry, she went into the half-bath on the second floor. She lifted up the matt laying in front of the sink, and knocked two and a half times. A door opened inward, revealing a pool of darkness and a barely visible slide. “We’ll, here we go,” she thought, as she slid down towards the darkness.
Seconds later she emerged in the military base. Other Barbies were running around frantically.
“Where is my cute soldier outfit??”
“I need to fix my hair!”
“Wait, do these camo pants make me look fat?”
Ashley was overwhelmed. Usually when she arrived at the base the military generals calmly took attendance, and then they all went back home. “What’s going on?” she asked a brunette, who was running by frantically.
“The Bratz army is attacking! We must fight back!”
“Oh crapnoodle,” said Ashley.
------
Princess Bratz watched her army’s progress through a pink-rimmed fifty inch television screen. She sat on a purple plush armchair, her small poodle at her feet. Her poodle was playing with a yellow plush bunny toy. “Yes, Spookies, play with your bunny. Soon you will be able to have like, twenty bunnies, as soon as we take over the Barbies.”
“Ruff,” barked Spookies.
“Yes, yes, I know you’re excited. Come, look. Our army is like, almost there.” She picked up Spookies and showed him the TV. “Soon, my puppy, soon.”
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Ashley grabbed her weapon and took her place in row 26, 13 from the right. She solemnly turned to the Barbie next to her, a blonde named Ken, and said, “I don’t even know how to fight. What are we supposed to do? We do all these drills to get here, but no one ever told us like, what to do once we got here!”
Ken said, “we fight, I guess. Try not to die, and try to stop the Bratz.”
Ashley said, “what if we don’t?”
Ken said, “we die. I guess.” Ken wasn’t very smart.
“Move out!!” The order came from the front of the line. Ashley and Ken waited until the row in front of them started moving, and followed. They walked and walked and walked, and eventually murmurs of the Bratz and I see them! floated back from the front ranks.
“Oh crapnoodle,” said Ashley.
------
Princess Bratz had just gotten out of her shower, when she heard a loud commotion in her TV room. She rushed over, only to see her army rushing towards the Barbie army, and the Barbies fighting back. Plastic, ever-smiling faces proceed to engage in mass murder. “Goooo team!” cheered Princess Bratz. Her lifelong dream of unlimited toys would finally become a reality as soon as her army won.
She turned to the picture of her parents kept on her coffee table, picked it up and whispered, “now who’s not important enough?”
