Perhaps it would be better to just supply Miss Parks with a complete new wardrobe. Of course, I wouldn't want to try to think of all the outfits she'd need but then
I didn't need to. The perfect wardrobe already existed.
I wished she were the size and measurements of a Barbie doll.
She instantly vanished, replaced by a naked doll-sized form standing on the floor in her place. The barbified Miss Parks looked around the room in shock before
looking up to stare at me. She wouldn't beg, though. Her posture was still defiant, although for some reason she was standing on her tip-toes.
Before she could say a word, I wished that all the Barbie outfits ever made would appear in the room. Before I knew what was happening, I was surrounded,
buried, in a vast pile of tiny dresses, blouses, pants, jackets and shoes. I hadn't had any idea how many Barbie outfits had been put out over the years. I burrowed
out from under the pile to find the room was filled almost to the ceiling with Barbie clothes, except for a circle about three feet across, with Miss Parks in the
center. She was already scampering to the stacks of clothes, holding them up before her. She grabbed a gold lame' pantsuit and pulled it on, before stepping into
the matching set of shoes.
Finally, she turned back to glare up at me again. She looked great, her body better than ever, her new outfit fitting like a glove. Her face was still recognizably hers,
but younger, sharper, even prettier. Her voice hadn't changed at all, though.
"OK," she told me. "You've had your joke. Now make me big again."