of course barbie has bigger fish to fry — barbie always has bigger fish to fry. girls night, visits with president barbie, sit-ins on supreme court hearings. what about ken? ken is a big fish! he's totally a big fish worthy of frying. when will barbie fry him?
"because it's patriarchy, barbie!" he exclaims in response, struggling to bite back the petulant scowl threatening to tug at his lips. "men, like, absolutely rule the world here! and their horses are their faithful, masculine companions. check it—" he spins on his heel so that he's directly in front of the blonde, walking backwards.
lifting his arms, ken pretends to hold at imaginary reins. a proud, boastful smile spreads across his lips, and then he gallops — as well as anyone can gallop while walking backwards, anyways. "see? so cool, right?" it's not cool. not at all, if the strange stares are anything to go off of.
"we're even dressed for the part! ain't that right, pardner?" he tips his hat in her direction, but it's clear that barbie isn't amused. no, she'd rather gripe about cellulite, which, for the record, is scary. so he gets that. but still!
insisting that she'd prefer company outside of him is like jabbing a knife through his chest — straight through his heart, mind you —, and the doll's arms drop limply back to his sides, slapping against his hips in defeat. "teacher barbie? teacher barbie?! i'm so much smarter than teacher barbie. how do you think i know all about patriarchy, huh? yeah, that's right — reading. i read books, barbie!"
barbie hasn’t stopped to think for even one second how ken might be adversely effected by all her rejections of him and his affections. it’s just that, well, she has other things on her mind. and ken seems as vapid as they come. his whole world revolves around her. she doesn’t know what to do with that. but she wasn’t made for him. he was made for her. so that was his problem.
“i don’t think i like the sound of this patriarchy.” she says, shaking a blonde head at him, her face screwed up with the weight of her dislike. she jumps a little, narrows her eyes as he switches gears and starts to walk backward. “ken...” she says, but he keeps talking, starts galloping. “ken... careful.” she grabs him right before he trips over something backward. saving him, again. what would he do without her?
“ken. some little girl brought me here to fix the problems in her world, i can’t do that if we’re chasing horses.” she blows a raspberry with her lips, stops to put her hands on her hips and look around. she doesn’t like it here one bit, but ken seems to be growing more and more fond of the real world with every second that passes — seems to be losing his patience with her, which is something new entirely.
“oh, ken.” she sighs, pats his cheek, offers him a placating smile. “you’re not smarter than any barbie.” she says, letting her hand drop to her side. “but you are smart in your own way. and i'm sure you’ve read plenty of books.” sighing, the blonde studies his face, realizes she must have said something to hurt his feelings — backtracks. “it’s not that i don’t want your company, it’s just that i don’t know how to deal with young girls. do you?” maybe he could be helpful after all? maybe he’d read something about it in all his books?
