Friends, Threats and Rides of Doom: ADVENTUREWORLD
Ah, summer, a time when the sun is up early and smiles upon the world, a time where walking around half-naked is excusable, a time where getting plastered will be the best time of your life and where vomiting is just something you get in return instead of your body telling that something is wrong with you. Adventure World. It’s the place for things like this, especially in summer. Awesome. Dragged kicking and screaming/walked around/pushed thanks to K_____ and M___ and I was “escourted” to such ride-in death machines such as the Rampage, Bounty’s Revenge and the Powersurge. First up, was the Bounty’s Revenge; the same one that I went with C_____ and his friends, the same one that someone vomited after on their way out. The ride itself is really an appetizer to the rest of the rides there, a sickening one that got to me in the form of the “anti-gravity” feeling, the same when an aeroplane takes off, minus the speed and excuse for reckless acceleration. I could feel the sensation of a headache. Great! Next was the Powersurge, the bastard son of a giant robot arm and a squid adopted by people who could do no better but wield a joystick. This ride was the one that made me spit out expletives. A lot of expletives.
M___: (joking to K_____) I can see down your top! (laughs)
Me: Shut the fuck up, you two! (realizing that the machine had turned my seat upside down)
That made the headache worse and me hungry, trying to convince this friend of mine to stop and have dinner, but no! The sadistic guy just had to continue.
M___: To the rampage! Rampage! Rampage!
Me: (less enthusiastically) Yay….!
Fuck. I don’t know about you, but I think this Rampage was conceived by a drunk guy/gatecrasher who was at the time, quite amused by the shaking of a jar by his own two hands, unaware that this “jar” was actually a very full can of beer building up pressure, ready to go. With the refusal for dinner, I realized again that it was Go Time. We three were told off because of the lack of filling-in for the front seats of this War Machine; a cross between a manure barrel, a caterpillar with a body boner and aeroplane built the wrong way. I was strapped in the front seat next to a lot of strangers and had to put up with the up and down of the seats because of safety checks before my fate was sealed for a few minutes. Surprisingly, the male population of this ride was at their mercy too as well as the ladies and pre-teens, wanting the ride to spin one way instead of the other, with another side disagreeing. Like taking a side to the ridiculous argument/ drunken fight-starter that is Holden vs Ford. I exited the ride, my headache finding the power to evolve into a migraine and my legs turning to the horrid version of jelly that is Quick-Set Aeroplane Jelly (which is, unfortunately nothing compared to the original). I can do nothing but shiver, like Sideshow Bob after getting “hit” repeatedly by several rakes.