Escape And Seek Revenge On The Author!
You take one of the dollies from the faux windowsill, mark its head at just the right spot where the hole opens up in the wainscoting, and in a Babe Ruth-worthy swing of the ba... doll! you smash that motherfuckin' wall with all the force your puny, yet fat little body can muster!
The doll comes magnificently apart, exploding in the air, utterly dismembered by the impact. The head flies off the frilly pinky-clad shoulders, ricocheting off the high Victorian roof of the dollhouse, flying back in your direction to thunk you squarely on the head.
You barely notice this little assault, however, as you are rather preoccupied by the fact that the dear dolly's left hand is now lodged fingers-first in your right eye.
You scream like a little bitch. Blood is pouring down your face, but despite the horrible pain, the humiliation is even worse. The certain knowledge that you have had your ass kicked by a little girl's puffy pink dolly-wolly is just unbearable. You stagger blindly, tripping over the fallen corpse of the doll and falling head-first into the pink-brick wall.
Perhaps you should have put your hands out to break your fall, rather than feeling up that bit of baby stuck in your face. Idiot.
Anyway, you have now suffered a skull fracture, and a pretty bad one at that because the vision in your remaining eye is going in and out and you can't hear or think properly. You are, however, still dimly aware of the fact that the shag of the fluffy pink rug is crawling up your nostrils. You sneeze and die.
Your cause of death was a combination of blunt-force head trauma, exsanguination and embarrassment. For me, though, this is one for the record books. And to think I got it all down for posterity on my beautiful Betamax tapes!
The doll comes magnificently apart, exploding in the air, utterly dismembered by the impact. The head flies off the frilly pinky-clad shoulders, ricocheting off the high Victorian roof of the dollhouse, flying back in your direction to thunk you squarely on the head.
You barely notice this little assault, however, as you are rather preoccupied by the fact that the dear dolly's left hand is now lodged fingers-first in your right eye.
You scream like a little bitch. Blood is pouring down your face, but despite the horrible pain, the humiliation is even worse. The certain knowledge that you have had your ass kicked by a little girl's puffy pink dolly-wolly is just unbearable. You stagger blindly, tripping over the fallen corpse of the doll and falling head-first into the pink-brick wall.
Perhaps you should have put your hands out to break your fall, rather than feeling up that bit of baby stuck in your face. Idiot.
Anyway, you have now suffered a skull fracture, and a pretty bad one at that because the vision in your remaining eye is going in and out and you can't hear or think properly. You are, however, still dimly aware of the fact that the shag of the fluffy pink rug is crawling up your nostrils. You sneeze and die.
Your cause of death was a combination of blunt-force head trauma, exsanguination and embarrassment. For me, though, this is one for the record books. And to think I got it all down for posterity on my beautiful Betamax tapes!
