Alara Alara The Place

This ficlet is based on "April's Dream House", an idea of mine that was originally envisioned as a foul-mouthed adult animated comedy that is kind of like a cross between Robot Chicken, Aqua Teen Hunger Force, and Tuca and Bertie. The premise is that a bunch of little girls’ toys are living together in a name-changed-for-copyright-reasons Barbie Dream Mansion because the Barbie character can’t pay her mortgage anymore, due to being such a mega-bitch that she’s been fired from over 100 different jobs in wildly disparate professions like medicine, rocket science, and cake decorating. So she is renting out rooms to other toys. Behind the scenes there may be some little girls who are much more profane and aware of sex as a concept than we are comfortable imagining our little girls to be (although those of us who were little girls, or have raised them, or both, may know otherwise), playing out these stories (which is why you can have stuff like Doktor Zapp having lost his previous laboratory to a giant dog.) The detailed character bible is at https://alarawriting.tumblr.com/post/174289659708/aprils-dream-house.

Franchises parodied include Bratz, Monster High, Hello Kitty, My Little Pony, Playmobil, and how weird it is to have your plushies and baby dolls interact with fashion dolls when the scales don’t match, so you get a baby doll the size of the fashion doll. (I think I got that idea from Toy Story 3, which idiotically claimed that Big Baby was male despite the fact that baby dolls are almost always marketed as female and that the child who’d owned Big Baby was a girl and girls generally cast their gender-neutral toys as female.) 

“Where is my fucking box of Christmas ornaments?”

April was busily tossing everything Catrina owned down the stairs from the attic garret where she lived. “April! What the fuck! That’s my stuff!” Catrina yelled.

“Yeah, your stuff that you couldn’t bother to keep neatly like I told you to, and this is seriously a health code hazard,” April said. “But more importantly, you’re living in the room I put my Christmas ornaments in, last January, and I need to find them.”

“You keep tossing my stuff around like that and I’ll kill you, mraow!”

“It’s my house, bitch, and you don’t pay anywhere near a fair rate for the rent.” April moved on to the back of the attic, where no one lived. “Ugh, this place is a nightmare.” ( Read more... )