The ballerina was perfect in a way that was perfectly pink and perfectly plucky. She only had one friend and that friend was a perfectly friendly friend but that was the only way she was perfect. The ballerina’s imperfect parents viewed the ballerina’s perfectness with concern and insisted she invite her friend over for a sleepover and forget about perfection for an evening. Her imperfect parents didn’t understand her at all. The ballerina invited her friend over for a sleepover. Her friend came with her box of makeup and girl tools. They sat in the ballerina’s room and the ballerina ended up laughing a lot but then at one point they were laughing so hard the ballerina farted. This made her friend laugh even harder but the ballerina stopped laughing completely. The friend tried to cheer the ballerina up by giving her a makeover. Why the friend thought the ballerina would enjoy a makeover is anybody’s guess. The friend put mauve blush on the ballerina’s cheeks, silver eye shadow on her eyelids, and purple lipstick on her lips that she outlined in even purpler purple lip liner. The ballerina looked in the mirror and turned redder than the mauve blush on her cheeks. The friend picked up a pair of scissors and suggested she give the ballerina bangs. The ballerina grabbed the scissors from the friend and stabbed her in the neck. Then the ballerina screamed a perfect scream and cried perfect tears and looked perfectly distraught when her parents raced to the bedroom. She explained to her imperfect mother that there was a light-hearted struggle over the scissors and an accident occurred. Meanwhile, her imperfect father called 911, then the friend’s parents, and explained the situation. There was a lot of heartbreak. Three hundred people showed up to the friend’s funeral, including the ballerina, who wore perfect waterproof makeup. No one pressed charges or investigated the ballerina for murder because it wasn’t the kind of town where perfectly pink ballerinas were suspected of being murderesses. No town is like that.