Fan Fiction ❯ My Evil Little Dolls ❯ My Evil Little Dolls ( One-Shot )

Lined along the shelf in a small room were four dolls. In a straight line they sat, their glassy eyes staring into nothingness. Nothing moved. The room was still and dark, as it had no windows. A single door stood opposite the shelf that held the four dolls, a thin stream of light showing under it. Everything in the room sat unmoving.

Then, the doll on the far left shifted. She slowly sat up, shaking her blonde curls away from her face, and looking at the other dolls. "Well, isn't anyone else going to get up?" she asked, looking at the others irritably. All the dolls began moving after she spoken, the doll's high, thin voice could wake the dead.

Slowly, each and every one of them stood up and faced the head doll. She looked at each and every one of them, from the black haired doll to the one with brown haired, and finally at the only male doll there, Ken. She began to speak again. "My dolls, we have been making plans for many months. Our goal was world domination, and I know we will be able to achieve this soon. Of course, the plan needs adjustments. Tootie, you get the papers, Ruthie, you get the pencils." Tootie and Ruthie immediately followed their orders, jumping off the shelf to the floor.

Ken looked around. He gazed at Tootie as she shuffled to the drawer that held their papers, and watched as Ruthie bustled around, gathering all the writing utensils she could find. Then, turning back to the head doll, he shifted uncomfortably. "Um, Poppie, have you seen my clothes?" Ruthie and Tootie giggled behind their hands.

"Why, Ken, do you really expect to still have clothes?" Poppie regarded him with amusement. "Barbie's clothes always get lost, no matter how hard those lazy humans try to keep them."

"Yes, I know, but I'm not a Barbie. I'm a Ken doll. And I should have clothes." Ken replied, glaring at Tootie and Ruthie, who were now rolling around, laughing so hard fake tears ran down their porcelain cheeks. Poppie still kept a straight face, though, this was because she had been broken years ago, and glued back together very sloppily, with gaping holes in her forehead still. She would have smirked if she could have.

"Well, you're the same brand, so get used to it." she almost snapped, glaring at Ken through her glassy eyes. She then turned her attention on Tootie and Ruthie, who were still laughing. "Tootie, Ruthie, you'll get stains on your dresses if you stay down there much longer! We can't be taken seriously if we have brown marks all over our clothes!" Tootie stood immediately, brushing back her black hair, which was forever tangled. Ruthie laughed for a little while more, but finally stood up, tugging at her brown hair, which was held fast in a ponytail.

Ken retreated to the far edge of the shelf, sulking. Tootie and Ruthie scrambled back onto the shelf, glancing at Ken for a moment before fixing their gazes on Poppie's cracked face. She began to speak after looking back and forth between the two dolls, whose admiration for her was clear in their eyes.

"Humans are a terrible thing," she began. "I've said this more than once, I know, but it still is true. That is why we must conquer them. We dolls know more than those humans together as one." She began pacing to the edge of the shelf to the wall and back. "They have caused us much suffering, breaking our faces (she gestured to herself), losing our clothes (looks at Ken), and mistreating us in general. We must rule over them and get our-" Poppie had walked to close to the edge, and was trying to regain her balance. Unfortunately, her arms had been broken when her face had been, so she plummeted to the ground.

A crash echoed through the room. Tootie and Ruthie raced towards the edge of the shelf, careful not to fall themselves. They surveyed the smashed doll they called Poppie, who lay on the ground in too many pieces to count.

Suddenly, the door opened, causing Tootie to fall forward, and Ruthie backward. Tootie, though, was a rag doll, so she landed on the floor with hardly any sound. Ruthie was a plastic doll, so she didn't break apart, her arm just simply popped out of its socket. A girl about fourteen years old entered the room, glancing at the shelf, and then to the floor. She stepped over the pieces of Poppie, walking over to the shelf. She picked up the papers that Tootie had set down while listening to Poppie. She read over them quickly, tsk-tsked, and walked out of the room, saying, "Mom! My old dolls are trying to take over the world...again! Poppie fell off the shelf and broke, too, so we should probably sweep up the pieces and put them in a bag marked `Warning: Evil Doll Inside,' because every time we put her back together and rip up her old plans to take over the world, she just makes more! We should know better by now..."

The girl walked down the hall, disappearing into a room at one end, still talking to her mother. Ruthie didn't move, only her eyes shifted to look at the arm that lay beside her. Tootie lifted herself up, but plopped back down, since Poppie's destroyed face lay in front of her. Poppie, of course, was in so many pieces that she couldn't move. And Ken simply sat on the edge of the shelf, muttering to himself, "Stupid dolls. Don't call me Barbie..."

A/N: Um, don't ask? I couldn't explain it if I tried. Slightly humorous, so that's why I posted it in the humor section. Please don't flame, I know it's stupid. Review, though.