"....Oh my, Shrek is going to JAIL! Or mebbe DONKEY is...I dunno, but SOMEONE has to explain the stolen PIXIE DUST...!"
...soooo, we'd left the
Mummy ride and had gotten our stowed gear - what next? Well, we've never gone to the
Shreck 4-D 'ride', and it was sweltering....so, indoors in an airconditioned attraction was a no-brainer. The line was inordinantly long, but it kept creeping along at a steady pace and we were temporarily cooled somewhat by the overhead fans, sprinkled above in various key locations, as we kept the conversation light. I could see by his expression that Ron was beginning to get antsy (must be those God-forsaken pants again) and he probably was hungry too, so every foot closer to that door that promised icy nirvana and a relaxing seat, something I desperately hoped for...
"....Keep your feet off the grass, shine your shoes, wipe your...face; Duloc is, Duloc is- Duloc is a perfect place....Perfect INDEED!"
....we stood close to that door, eyes blazed ahead,as if willing them to open and reveal its contents....once in, the ever-widening crowd gathered towards a podium at the front of the large room and a 'citizen of Duloc' introduced herself, assuring us that we were DOOMED...
".....you have now found yourself in a situation of which you cannot be extricated.....let the FLOGGINGS begin!...." , to which we were to provide a collective
"...ohhhhh, NO!" [of course, every subsequent 'Let the floggings begin' initiated an automatic 'ohhh, no' response.] from the entire rabble....that is, except for my DS, Dylan, who, a split-second later, screamed, rather haughtily,
"Ohhhh, YESSSSS!". Needless to say, this precipitated a loud roar from the crowd. Not to be outdone, the Duloc-ian, or Duloc-ite, or whatever they're called, scanned the crowd in search of the infidel. Of course, everyone obliged her searching eyes by pointing at Dylan's head. For his insolance, he was instructed to go stand at the front of the room.....in the corner....facing the WALL!
.....she continued her schpiel, of course, all the while randomly throwing in her
'let the floggings begin!', which, in turn would be followed by our
'oh no's', only to be followed by Dylan's muffled
'oh YESSSS!' and, moments before the auditorium doors opened so that we could take our seats, she hurried to Dylan, thanking him for being a good sport and asked for the number in his party, to which he answered that there were five of us. She, in turn, gave him TEN 'FASTPASSES' (well, whatever the US/IoA equivalent of a WDW Fastpass is) - or two for each of us! Wow, so unexpected! W-T-G, snarky Dylan....and, hats off to you, you thankless-keeper-of-the-pilfered-pixie-dust....my money's still on Donkey...
....well, it was nearing lunch hour, yet we still haven't heard from our friends [we weren't even sure if they had even arrived at the park yet!], so we decided to grab a bite to eat...
...we ordered what any healthy kool-cat, daddi-o American, sporting cool shades and rolled up t-shirt sleeves in the 1950's would order: burgers, fries and root beer [of course, Ron's was without the bun]! We sat together in a 'booth' right behind this window:
...and watched the remnants of the parade:
....now, a more pressing matter looms - off to use those cool, sought-after Fastpasses....
[...continued on Page 51 - Post #760....]