it sounds like a joke but that’s their original purpose
the hatian ‘voodoo doll’ was based off of african healing dolls made of wood. you would do nice things to the doll, place it in nice places, or add brightly colored pegs. you made dolls of you and your friends so you could try and make their lives comfortable
the one we think of was corrupted by the brittish, who had ‘poppets’, which were fabric stuffed dolls you stabbed.
man, teenaged girls aren’t allowed to have a genuine interest in anything without being ridiculed for it. if a girl likes ugg boots and starbucks she’s stupid and stereotypical, but if she likes combat boots and obscure coffee houses she’s a hipster wannabe and is trying too hard. if a girl listens to boy bands and other popular artists she’s a dumb follower, if she reads comics or plays video games she’s a poser/fake geek girl, if she likes sex she’s a slut but if she doesn’t like sex she’s a prude, if she wears makeup she’s fake but if she doesn’t wear makeup she’s a slob, if she has low self-esteem she needs to learn to love herself but if she has high self-esteem she’s overconfident and vain, if she’s interested in politics she’s a crazy social justice warrior but if she prefers to stay out of social matters she’s a dumb airhead. girls are literally mocked for every single thing they like or do, no matter what those things are, and i’m really really sick of it.
“What is it? Can’t you answer it for yourself?” Dark replied.
“Unfortunately not. I need to hear from someone whos actually experienced this.” Google answered in a monotone voice.
“Fine, what is it?”
“What are emotions? I know the definicion but that doesn’t seem to cover it fully.”
Dark was taken aback by that. He most certainly wasn’t the most emotional ego, if anything he tried to avoid showing emotions to anyone. Having no good answer he replied with a question. “Why do you need to know?”
“I feel it would be easier to carry out my primary objective if I am more human like. Having and showing emotions seems to be the biggest difference between be and a human.” Google answered.
That was a reasonable answer but Dark felt he was lying.
“I really don’t know how to answer that. Maybe you should ask someone else.”
“Who should I ask?” Why was it up to Dark?
“I don’t know. Go ask Wilford or Bim.”
With that Google went down to the studio where the two aforementioned egos worked. Bim was recording so he would ask Wilford first.
“Wilford, may I ask you something?”
“You already have.” The moustached man answered.
“I mean a question that isn’t the first thing I said to you.” Google said suppressing the urge to say something rude.
“I was hoping you’d say ‘Can I ask you another question,’ so the joke could continue.”
The android rolled his eyes.
“Just ask your question already.” Wilford said.
“What are emotions?”
“Well um…,” Wilford scratched his head, “emotions are when,” He place his hand on if chin, “it’s when… You’ve stumped me. What are emotions?”
“Emotions, a natural instinctive state of mind deriving from one’s circumstances, mood, or relationships with others.” Google said automatically.
“Well there’s your answer. Why’d you ask me?”
“Because it doesn’t make sense!” Google shouted loud enough for everyone in the room to turn and look at him.
Bim, who’d just finished recording went to see what was wrong.
“Are you ok, Google?” His voice laced with concern.
Google cleared his throat. “Nothing is wrong. I simply had an odd malfunction. I should go and recheck my programming.”
The two game show hosts called after him as he left but he ignored them.
On his way to his room Google bumped into someone.
“O-o-oh n-n-no I-i’m sorry. I-i sh-should ha-have been w-watching w-w-where I was go-going.” A small voice apologized.
Eric derekson. The newest ego and the reason Google was having an issue. When Eric first arrived Google felt a strange need to protect him. The closest thing he could find to what he was feeling was ‘parental instinct’ which made no sense. Google was no parent and Eric deffenaly wasn’t his son.
Eric was also the one who stool Google’s seat next to Dark, because Dark wanted to keep the newer ego close. Google wanted to be mad about that be he couldn’t he mad at Eric
“It’s alright. No need to panic.” Google said running his hand through the small ones hair.
“O-ok Mi-mister. Google.” Eric said.
“Do you mind if I ask you a question, Eric?”
“W-what kind of question?” Eric asked nervously. (Of course he said everything nervously.)
“Just a simple one. What am I to you?”
“Wh-what are you-you t-to m-m-me?” Eric repeated.
Google noded.
“We-w-well I g-guess I kind of see you l-l-like a-a-a f-fath-father.”
“A father?”
“A-a y-y-yes.” He clutched that yellow handkerchief close to his face. “I h-hope I-I don’t s-s-sound weird.”
“No of course not.” He ruffled Eric’s hair. “I kind of see you like a son.” He admitted.
“R-really.” Eric smiled, which was the cutest thing Google’s ever seen. (Cuter than the millions of cat and dog videos he’s seen.)
“Really.” Maybe parental instinct was more fitting than he thought.
Small child full of Bees 
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