Barbie Destruction

Muua Haaa Haaa!
I know that Barbie destruction is supposed to be left up to cruel older brothers and their wars against little sisters, but I found out, over Thanksgiving weekend, that destroying Barbies still gives me a little more delight than is probably should.
My parents are moving soon. This is not a new thing for them. Before going to college and finally being in charge of my own location, I had moved 13 times. Even though I've now been in the same town for 10+ years, they've continued the trend. Moving this often usually means that you don't have a lot of weird old shit lying around because you're cleaning out and packing up every few years. But I had saved some of my old stuff and it had been nestled safely in whichever attic my parents had above them for many years. The boxes had large bold marks on them saying "DO NOT THROW AWAY. V's STUFF." My mom "lugged this stuff all over the countryside," so she says, though in reality she lugged it up and down NY state only. And finally with this last move, into a much smaller house, she demanded that I take my stuff.
JMom brought it out to me over Thanksgiving weekend.
Most of it was junk. Absolute smelly-useless-couldn't-even-remember-why-I-kept-it junk. Some of it was not. I'll have to take a few pictures. (See....better picture day's ARE coming!)
Amoung the junk was an old Barbie trunk containing 1 Barbie, 1 bullshit discount Barbie, and 1 smaller doll with dark hair. There were also some VERY fashionable clothes and accessories. I decided the Barbies were a little too....stinky to pass on to Little A, but I would give her the clothes, etc... I went to remove the dress that the bullshit discount barbie was wearing and her arm snapped right off. I wished Roo were there to witness the Barbie bloody stump. But sadly she wasn't and now I was a Barbie destruction machine. Her limbs broke off so quickly and with such a satisfying little snap that soon she was nothing more than a head and torso. I went for the head, looked around to make sure Little A was not watching, and POP! Off came the head. I put Barbie in a pile on the table and decided that it was quite a masterpiece. I wish I had been lucid enough to take a picture.
I gathered the remains pretty quickly (I still wasn't sure how Little A would respond to my maniacal Barbie-homicide) and tossed them in the garbage. Little A has about 50+ Barbies in her room and they just don't quite seem safe anymore. I'm sure that they wouldn't snap quite as smoothly as a 20 year old bullshit discount barbie, but I know for a fact, the heads....THE HEADS are fun to pop. And I keep remembering....maybe Little A wouldn't be too upset about a little Barbie destruction...after all when one of her's naturally lost it's head, she thought it was hysterical and liked to make it drive theBarbie-mobile while holding her head in her lap. She may have a sense of humor that I should be concerned about. Especially when mixed with my own Barbie massacre-ing fantasies. Muaaa-Haa-Haa!