Monday, May 29, 2006

Your Dead Brother Has A Few Things He'd Like To Get Off His Chest Day!

Your older brother (he was ten, you're nine) drowned in the pond last week. The funeral happened over the weekend and everyone's been sad. You didn't cry at the funeral, or after. You know it's a bad thing that he's gone, and you wouldn't have wished this to happen for all the world, but since he died you've just been overwhelmed by how peaceful your home life is without his constantly teasing you or setting your toys in fire. It's like your brother's death has thrown you into a state of pure bliss, which is a terrible thought but it's true because there's no gum in your hair.

Tonight you can kiss that bliss goodbye when your brother's spirit enters the body of one of your Bratz dolls and makes the doll dance around and talk to you. You've always thought that one day your dolls would be able to do these things, but the script you imagined was always just a little bit different.

'Look at me, I'm a dumb gay doll and only dorky ugly girls can play with me!' your Cloe doll will say. 'Girls who play with me smell like turds!'

'Jackie!' you'll shout at the doll from behind your covers. 'Is that you?'

'Don't come near me because I'm covered in my owner's boogers,' the doll will say. 'She picks her boogers and then sticks them to me so that she can eat them later.'

You'll run and grab your Cloe doll and shout, 'Jackie are you okay? Are you in heaven?'

The Cloe doll will stop talking, and your Kumi doll will pop up from the windowsill and say, 'Duh, I talk to dolls because I don't have any friends.' Then the Kumi doll will hop off of your windowsill and run to your dresser where she'll impale her own rubber head on the sharp end of a cuticle knife.

'Kumi!' you'll shout.

Your Sierrna doll will pop up and shout, 'Aw, you feel sadder for your dolls than for your own brother because you're gay and ugly and you like to lick feet.'

You'll shout at your dolls, 'Stop it. I did feel sad. But you were always so mean to me that I couldn't help but feel some relief. And I don't like to lick feet.'

Your Felecia doll will stand up and say, 'Well if it makes you feel better, I'm in hell now and I'm being tortured constantly.'

Your hands will cover your mouth. 'Really?' you'll ask.

Felecia will laugh. 'No gaybird. I'm nowhere and there's nothing. It's as if there's no time and space here. Just the moment, with no hint in my mind as to what might have preceded it. It's not that I am, it's more like I merely do. Like when I do this.'

Your Felecia doll will run over and grab your Sierrna doll and start slamming her head into the windowsill. Your Felecia doll will shout, 'GAY! GAY! GAY! GAY! GAY!' with every slam. Then your Felecia doll will walk over to the glass of soda you were drinking and she'll hang her butt over the rim of the glass and make noises like she's defecating into it. She'll make grunting and farting noises for around two hours, until you go downstairs to have dinner with your parents.

Your parents will eat in silence, almost as if their grief over your brother has drained them of all energy and expression. You'll want to tell them that he's not worth it, but you'll keep quiet.

Happy Your Dead Brother Has A Few Things He'd Like To Get Off His Chest Day!