Sheep girl has five Barbies. One blonde Starlet, one Ken, one Skipper, one Hawaiian, and one old red head with a chewed off foot. Sitting on her bedroom floor, she removes Footless's clothes. She knocks Footless and her hard tits against Ken. "Oh, Ken," she says. "Yes, darling."
In the hall, Mom's bedroom door opens. It's The Dick. He pushes into the bathroom. Sheep Girl can hear him peeing. She hears him take his bathrobe from the loose hook on the bathroom door.
Hawaiian Barbie has on a floral bikini top and no bottoms. Sheep Girl mushes Hawaiian's face against Ken's cheek.
The Dick is in the kitchen making his coffee. She hears the fart-farting of the percolator. A cabinet opens, shuts.
She lines the dolls up along the carpet in order of beauty. Footless is last. Something shatters on the kitchen floor. The Dick yells, "Jesus."
"Get in here, you little cunt," he yells.
Sheep Girl looks down at Starlet. Above her boobs is only the stump of her neck, no head. Sheep Girl stands and goes to the kitchen.
The Dick grabs the back of her neck and steers her toward the mess. The sugar bowl is broken. Scattered white crystals sparkle on brown linoleum. Next to a dull spoon is Starlet's perfect detached head, her splayed blond hair, flat eyes, dazzling smile. Sheep Girl remembers popping off the head and stuffing it into the sugar bowl yesterday, remembers the pleasurable crunch of plastic into granules.
"Don't ever pull a stunt like that on me again," The Dick says, his hand still hot on her neck. He pushes her to the floor to clean it up. His bare feet are covered with sugar specks. His calves poking out from under his robe are dark and hairy.
"I won't," she says.
"Look at me when you talk to me," he says.
Sheep Girl looks at his knees. She'll be eleven next month, which is almost twelve, which is when Mom says she'll grow boobs. She looks up the length of his looming body to his face. He loosens his terry cloth belt, then tightens it.
"Yes, sir," says Sheep Girl. There are other ways to frighten him.