drowning in a sea of thoughts she can't chase away, barbie is in her head. this is new, she doesn't like it, can't seem to snap out of it. it takes barbie's voice to pull her from the reverie -- no, not reverie, more like waking nightmare. was that the opposite of a daydream? when had everything stopped being so perfect?
the switch is flipped, though, and she shakes off the dissonance and offers the other barbie a wide, glittering smile -- as manufactured as the rest of her. "love, love, love it! oh, i wish i was good at that." she says, pushing herself up, turning in a circle to take it all in. everything all the barbies do at all times is exceptional. and she's just... well, stereotypical? what's that mean? "what inspired you this time?"