Barbie

 

Lighting flashed, thunder rolled, and her heart beat.

Mismatched construct of corpse-parts and strange science, her maker and her mate wrongly assumed she would play the docile role they expected of her.

Was she the first liberated woman? Did the electricity that gave her life somehow  give her the modern spirit that the doe-eyed, pathetic women around her lacked?

All that is certain is that when she staggered from her stretcher, flush with a new electric vitality, she gazed upon her fiancee...

Her flat-headed, screw-necked reanimated fiancee...

and she decided "I'm not marrying THAT."