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Barbie told me that I woke up five weeks later inside a box of bricks. Of course, I was perfectly aware of the waking up in a box of bricks, but I didn’t know it had been five weeks.
“That’s what happens if you eat human food. You lose sentience for a period of time.”
I stared at her. “Then why the hell didn’t you stop me?”
“Uh, I tried to for ages and you didn’t listen.”
“Hey,” I protested, “You told me that eating a raw potato was impossible.”
“I did. Because you wouldn’t have believed me.”
We were in her dreamhouse. She turned off her pink stereo playing Barbie Girl by Aqua in the background. She turned on her pink teakettle. “Do you want cherry, cherry blossom, bubblegum, cranberry, or grape?”
“You have bubblegum tea?”
She turned around and gave me her best I’m-fucking-Barbie look.
“Bubblegum it is.”
She gave me a crimson mug, and sat back down. “That won’t kill you.”
“Well, yeah, I know that.”
“I’m just saying.”
“Okay, but, like, the potato didn’t kill me. So why do you feel the need to say it this way about the tea?”
“Because the tea won’t kill you.”
“Are you saying I was dead?”
She snatched the tea from my hands, drank it in one long gulp, then did the same for her own.
“Wow, you asshole.”
“Look, with the route we were going, you would’ve thought I poisoned your food. What I’m saying is, you can have all the pretend food and drink you want, but it’s extremely dangerous for you to eat human food. Do you understand? I want you to never pull that stunt again.”
“Then why did you let me?”
She produced a set of pink french fries from the cupboard. “Look. Eat these.”
“I told you, I don’t like cooked potatoes.”
“You’ve never had them.”
“If I’ve imagined they’re terrible, then they’re terrible.”
“Eat.”
“Fine.” I took a bite and made a face. “These are too burnt,” I complained. I was having a hard time not throwing up. Honestly.
“Exactly.”
I looked at her.
“You imagined that real fried potatoes were always too burnt. So I gave you pretend french fries and they were too burnt.”
“Yeah?”
“And it wasn’t poison.”
“So?”
“You can’t make up what the human realm of things is like. Unlike how it is here. Do you understand? If you try to eat another raw potato, you’ll be thrown into another consciousness-less coma again.”
“Isn’t a coma already consciousness-less?”
“Who knows, I’ve never been in a coma.”
“Are you sure? You never had a Barbie Coma Victim set?”
“Lego Guy, you’re being ridiculous.”
Yeah, I knew I was being ridiculous. But I was also bitter. And angry. “Okay, yeah, high-and-mighty-rocket-scientist, Barbie-of-all-trades, if that’s so, then why are raw potatoes so prestigious that I have never seen a single toy raw potato in my life?”
She gave me a look and rubbed her eyes. “Are you SERIOUS.”
“Yeah, I’m filthy serious.”
“Never mind. You have problems. I’m done.” She then went upstairs to ignore me in her pink hot tub.
“Ugh,” I muttered, staring at the pretend bubblegum-pink tea leaves at the bottom of “my” teacup. I decided that Barbie could do her own dishes. So I left, without even saying goodbye.
Mercury-Marvin Sunderland
Mercury-Marvin Sunderland (he/him) is a transgender autistic gay man with borderline personality disorder. He's from Seattle and currently attends the Evergreen State College. He's been published by University of Amsterdam's Writer's Block, University of British Columbia's Decomp, UC Davis' Open Ceilings, UC Riverside's Santa Ana River Review, and UC Santa Barbara's Spectrum. His lifelong dream is to become the most banned author in human history. He's @RomanGodMercury on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.
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