The Disney Saga: Part 2 - ExtraTERRORestrials

If you followed along with my first post, you know that my family and I have just arrived in Florida on a flying death machine. How we managed to do this without actually dying is beyond my ability to comprehend -- or perhaps beyond my desire.

The real reason I wrote that post was to get to this one, though admittedly one of the later installments of the Saga will probably be my favorite. (For the record, I have NO idea how many of these there will be, but there are several stories from my two trips that will give me some stories to tell.)

On the last day of our trip, my mother decided it was time to visit the Magic Kingdom for one last time. In case you know nothing about the Magic Kingdom, this is what it looks like:

The second we stepped off the tram, it started pouring down training. Rather than just go back to the hotel for the rest of the day, we just ran inside and decided to find something to do. Most of the rides were closed, however, because rain does that sort of shit to an amusement park.

Not to be deterred, we turned to the other ride that was available to us. It was called An ExtraTERRORestrial Alien Encounter.

Yeah.

So we go in there with another crowd of people who thought waiting in line in the rain to see the inside of a giant golf balls was crazy and pointless, and end up in front of a robot standing before two vertical glass tubes. All of a sudden, the robot comes to life, and starts to talk to us about teleporting (mind you, this is Future Land... where creative names don't exist anymore). To demonstrate with the tubes behind him, Mr. Robot uses his... erm... dog pet thing Skippy. Things go bad. Basically, Skippy ends up looking like a burnt glob of melted cheese that has been trampled on ten thousand times and then a five year old found it stuck to their shoe and peeled it off so they could take it to class for show-and-tell but the other kids thought it was lame so they stole it and ripped it up and then the original kid that had it finds it and puts it back together and glues some googly eyes on it.

Then we're herded into another room.

It's circular with a bunch of chairs surrounding a giant glass tube in the center of the room. My parents and I took a seat in the third row and sat down. There were television screens around the room as well, so I hoped that perhaps we might just be watching a movie. I failed to comprehend the fact that not only had we just witnessed a space dog being permanently disfigured by a teleportation device, but we were all now sitting in a dimly-lit room in chairs that surrounded a giant version of the mistake we'd seen not seconds ago. Oh. And the chairs had those restraints like what you see on rollercoasters on them. And after you sit down, they come down over your shoulders.

If you read the first part of this story, you'll recall that I FUCKING HATE ROLLERCOASTERS. My tummy gets caught and my legs feel like jello and I feel like my insides are going to come flying out any orifice they can get to.

After everyone gets settled in, this little video pops up (I found it on YouTube to give you an authentic experience for free!). Shit goes crazy and we wind up getting an ALIEN that EATS PEOPLE and the POWER GOES OUT. This thing then starts RUNNING AROUND in the DARK. (Of course, in that video, everyone is LAUGHING and you can see the "alien" getting pulled down... BUT I WAS 8 AND I DIDN'T HAVE NIGHT VISION OKAY?)

This was apparently supposed to be a special effects ride... so as the alien is running around, you FEEL the room shaking, you FEEL the breath, hot and heavy on your neck. And then when the guy comes to fix the power and gets EATEN by the alien, you feel warm liquid on your legs. I wasn't sure if mine was the blood of the guy that just got eaten, the saliva of the alien that ate him, or my own urine. Then you get to the part where you can scream to get the alien back into the tube? How the HELL that works, I have no idea. But you can bet your ass off that I screamed louder than anyone else in that room.

The ride finally ends, and the lights come back on. The restraints are lifted. My parents got up to leave. I stood to follow them... and fell in a trembling, weeping heap to the floor. Uncle Jerry (again, see the first post) had to carry me for about twenty minutes before my legs stopped shaking enough to hinder my ability to walk.

I didn't speak to my mother for about an hour, and when she finally did get me to talk again, there was only one word I could say to answer why I was mad: "Because."