Ouija (COMPLETED)(South Park) {DamienxPip}

Chapter 7| Friend

The toy shop we enter is bright. It's painted in all sorts of colours. Ranging from neon to pastel, hot to cold colours. Its quite big, filled to the brim with all sorts of toys. Even through the place is so bright and alive, the workers seem to be quite the opposite. Most of them look annoyed that they have to work in a toy shop, while others look like they just want to go home.

Lots of different children are running around, picking up toys they like and showing them off to their parents with puppy eyes and begging voices. Their ages range from about five to ten. Some children jump and cheer, others wail and whine. A small part of me feels sorry for the parents, as they have to deal with wailing kids, but a bigger part doesn't really want to bother.

There are all sorts of different isles. A stereotypical female isle, full of Bratz dolls, Barbies and pink and purple bears. The floor of the isle is a pastel pink, the shelves decorated with hearts, flowers and diamonds. Then there is a stereotypical male isle, full of Power Ranger figures, Hotwheels cars and toy dinosaurs. The floors of this isle are neon blue, the shelves decorated with cars, robots and footballs. Then there is an isle fully dedicated to stuffed animals, another for costumes and foam swords.

"Wow. I've never been in a toy shop before." Damien says, awe struck as he looks around at the colourful shelves.

"I haven't been in many either. My childhood wasn't exactly filled with things like these." I say, picking up a miniature Death Star and peering at it. Damien looks over my shoulder at the toy, his presence behind me making my heart beat wildly. Damien can probably hear the increase, but he doesn't question it.

"They don't have Star Wars in England?" Damien asks, taking the ship from me and examining m it. "This is a knock off. Look, there's a window here." Damien sighs, points out the mistake and throws the apparent fake onto a shelf.

"You're a Star Wars fan?" I ask him as we wander down the pink isle filled with Bratz and Barbies.

"I'm a Harrison Ford fan." Damien tells me, walking towards a shelf filled with Barbies. "I'll watch anything with him in it."

"Who?" I ask, standing next to him as he kneels down to stare at the dolls.

"I'm going to pretend you did not say that," he tells me, not breaking eye contact from the dolls. "But I forgive you for those awful words that left your mouth, and I want to ask you something."

He grabs my arm and tugs me down onto the floor next to him. I stumble forward onto my knees, they hit the floor with a painful thwack. I flinch and take a quick intake of breath, not allowing my expression to change and for Damien to feel guilty. Damien quickly thrusts his arm in front of my chest as I nearly fall face first into the shelf. I bump into his arm, which is as cold as always, and steady myself.

"What was that for?!" I ask, sitting back onto my heels and rubbing my sore knees. I forget about not making him feel guilty and add, "I'll have bruises by tomorrow."

"I apologise, the collision sounded painful. Now, back to my question, why do they call this," he motions to a Barbie with tan skin, blonde hair and hips. "A plus sized Barbie?"

I stare at the figure, looking from her thick hair to her small chest, slim waist, stick arms and almost randomly big hips. A plus sized women would not look like this, and I have to admit I'm a bit taken aback by the question from Damien. Does he really care about things like this?

"I don't really know, she isn't really that curved either." I add, and Damien scoffs.

"This is why if I ever had the change to have a daughter I wouldn't let her have Barbies. They claim to make a whole new collection of 'realistic Barbies', but is it really realistic for a girl to have hips like these," he motions to the hips, "and a chest like that?" He motions to the chest. I can't help but stare at Damien in shock. I had no idea he cared so much about these things.