Part 1

My name is Barbara Millicent Roberts and for the past few days, my fashion advisor closet has imprisoned me in my closet because he's in love with me. Why does everyone always have to be in love with me?! Why have the fashion Gods make me this perfect?!

Anyways, my one-hundred-mile long closet has been dark for the past few days. I've tried to run to the other side where the second entrance is, but I can't run in the heels I'm wearing and the sport's wear is in a few miles. So now I sit on the floor against one of my closet's ginormous shelves.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps, and Raquel's piercing screeching voice shatters my new Swarovski earrings, the shard scattering in a perfect heart on the floor.

Raquel, who is here for some reason and is currently intruding upon my personal space, as in my closet, descecrating this temple of fashion, clanks her heals as if she were trying to bore a hole into closet's floor with every grating step of her last season Taylor Swift Burger King collab heels (they're from non vegan paper).

"bARbiE!" She leans over me, with a nauseating glare. Her not vintage, but not modern, basically old shirt hangs down revealing her repurposed water bottle plastic titties. I look up at her, annoyed and sigh.

"BaRBie I was like in your closet for no strange or particular reason, I just went on a stroll and suddenly the lights stopped working and then I stopped being able to see the branding on your clothes! So rude, in MY opinion! Like HOW am I supposed to know what to take?! I mean ADMIRE…from afar?"

I roll my eyes at Raquel. My Godmother, Chelsea, always told me that "If a needy bitch comes at you, you don't give 'er nun" and then she snapped…in half.

It took me years to reincarnate her. It took a lot of brains, brains I did not possess, so I enslaved Ken. I lured him to me with my womanly whiles and made him my Servant, willing to bow down and lick my feet whenever I chose. Sadly, even though she was revived, she had no memory of her previous criminal life. I raised her, froim the dead, then as my sister, and even though I am happy that she is among the living, the Chelsea I knew, is now dead.

Therefore, I just stared at Raquel, annoyed to disbelief.

Raquel takes my hand. "Get Up Get Up Barbie! You're supposed to be the one that always has hope, and ideas! Why are you sitting?!"

"Raquel, there is no way to exit closet. He's too big… too big… He's won Raquel, I have to marry him now."

"WHAT?!" Raquel squaked. "WHY?!"

"It's the only way."

"Barbrie, you're the one who has always taught me that there is hope… always. When things seem impossible, you're always the one to push through and persevere. Like… there was that time when I accidentally spilled punch all over my dress when I had intended to spill it on you… by accident I mean- You Barbie, YOU were there to cheer me up, and spilled punch on yourself to make it look like it was a fashion statement. You saved me SO SO much embarrassment that night even though I thought that all hope was lost, that I'd be in all the tabloids and I would have to spend the rest of my life in the forest…like that freakish Chelsea. Anywayus, what I'm saying is, that you can't give up Barbie! I-I-I LOVE YOU!"

"Oh Raquel, you're…so…sweet…yeah. But I'm seeing Ken. He's the one for me."

"Oh… yeah…" Raquel said disappointed.

"But…who knows until they try?"

Raquel moved in towards Baarbie's locious plastic lips and swiftly kissed her. Barbie moved in closer and they FRENCHED.

Then they did the devil's tango, using craft scissors, the entire closet filled with all the colours of the rainbow, some only visible to shrimp. Barbie had never felt this gay before, and neither had Raquel, except for that one time she got really drunk on punch at Ryan's Ryan party.

Also, before they kissed Barbie broke up with Ken so then he committed suicide by sticking himself in the oven like a rotisserie chicken that Chelsea inevitably ate, because he was so depressed that he wasn't Barbie's slave.