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BigBen · 12-14-2005, 01:02 PM

My brother and I wanted to go on the "Screamer"; a ride similar to the Ferris Wheel, except that the cuppola housed two people in a cage, and said cage rotated around an axis perpendicular to the axis of the Ferris Wheel. It looked like a very cool ride, and it was without a doubt the largest ride at the exhibition.

My aunt and uncle were against it, stating the obvious fact that we were too young. We persuaded them with the simple logic about the "You must be this tall to ride" sign, and having met the height requirements MUST IN FACT be old enough.

They relented, and we purchased tickets. At first, it seemed like a lot of money, but the line was fast and we were eager to experience our first BIG RIDE, away from all of the kiddy shit that we had outgrown...

The Carnie that took our tickets didn't hesitate at all, while I was sure he would question my maturity or intent. I had the list of reasons for admission past the "Carny Gate" prepared for naught; He opened the cupola, I sat down first, my brother at my side, and the cage was slammed home. The cupola swayed pleasantly with this movement, and all was well. There was even a plastic steering wheel, situated in the middle, between us two boys.

The Carny rotated the wheel another station, letting off the previous riders and taking the tickets of the new with a fluid motion. our nose angle (yaw? help me out her, airforce bretheren...) was at a pleasant 25 degrees above horizon, and my brother and I tried to make the cupola sway back and forth with the plastic steering wheel. It was too heavy for me, and then my brother tried. Again, no success. We tried together, and accomplished a small rolling action. We were pleased with our teamwork, and talked about how this ride was "No Big Deal, sheesh..."

The Carny progressed the ride again, bringing the cupola angle to 50 degrees. Like sitting in a plastic recliner, we looked around and admired how far were off the ground. In the distance, you could see how we towered over our former kiddie rides. I accepted this rite of passage with a sense of mature joy. No longer would the little cars going in circles hold any power over me. I was a graduate of the Screamer!! I was soaking in the experience, wondering how I would re-live this tale to my fellow classmates once the new school year started. Surely, they had no opportunity to prove their manhood like this!

Again, the ride progressed, and this time we were at a straight 90 degrees from horizon. I imagined how astronauts must feel, just before a launch, and how their country must be so proud of such brave men! My brother tried the little plastic wheel again, and this time it spun freely! We turned around the axis, spinning, while sitting in that plastic seat, our backs to the ground.

The ride progressed again, and we were at the 10 o’clock position. The steering wheel slipped from my brother’s hand, and we spun upside down, now facing the ground. I screamed. It seems that the cupola was top-heavy, and nothing we did could right us. I screamed louder, hoping that the Carny would recognize a plea for help quickly and make a quick revolution back to the six o’clock and release us. He did no such thing. We instead progressed to the 12 o’clock, the final (and farthest) stop on the release portion of the ride. I was crying pathetically, begging my brother to use his strength and turn the plastic wheel.

The ride started in earnest, jerking us forward, and DOWNWARD. The ground approached too fast, and then with a horrible spin the process started over again, going up on the 6-12 portion of the horrific clock/wheel I was trapped inside, spinning and being thrown back to earth on the 12-6 portion. I came to the conclusion that God was punishing me for my sins, and only through prayer would I get through this. I screamed my allegiance to my Christian God, promising a celibate and pure life if released from this ride! The wheel continued to pick up speed, and Rock-and-Roll music started to play. Dire Straits “Money for Nothing” taunted my senses. My brother frantically pawed at the plastic wheel; I think he may have also been screaming, but I was too occupied in my own endeavours to inquire.

The Carny had resigned us to our fate. We were to die there that day. I stopped crying, and started to babble incoherently. My throat hurt from the screaming; my stomach was upset from the carnival food and the unexpected revolutions. I concentrated on maintaining my continence, and was close to losing that. When the ride slowed, we stopped again at 12 o’clock, to begin the unloading process. I was euphoric! Three more unloads and we would be free! The good Lord had heard my prayers! Praying does work! I was a born-again Christian at the tender age of 7!

When released, the Carny commented that he doesn’t usually let the ride go that long, but “The way you two were screaming was drawing the crowd.” I then noticed the long line-up for the Screamer. I then tasted my first bout of irony: First, the name of the ride was The Screamer. Second, I had prolonged my horrifying experience by screaming, and thus being used as free marketing for the ride.

Oh, cruel fate…

12-14-2005, 01:02 PM	#6 (permalink)
BigBen Comedian Location: Use the search button	My brother and I wanted to go on the "Screamer"; a ride similar to the Ferris Wheel, except that the cuppola housed two people in a cage, and said cage rotated around an axis perpendicular to the axis of the Ferris Wheel. It looked like a very cool ride, and it was without a doubt the largest ride at the exhibition. My aunt and uncle were against it, stating the obvious fact that we were too young. We persuaded them with the simple logic about the "You must be this tall to ride" sign, and having met the height requirements MUST IN FACT be old enough. They relented, and we purchased tickets. At first, it seemed like a lot of money, but the line was fast and we were eager to experience our first BIG RIDE, away from all of the kiddy shit that we had outgrown... The Carnie that took our tickets didn't hesitate at all, while I was sure he would question my maturity or intent. I had the list of reasons for admission past the "Carny Gate" prepared for naught; He opened the cupola, I sat down first, my brother at my side, and the cage was slammed home. The cupola swayed pleasantly with this movement, and all was well. There was even a plastic steering wheel, situated in the middle, between us two boys. The Carny rotated the wheel another station, letting off the previous riders and taking the tickets of the new with a fluid motion. our nose angle (yaw? help me out her, airforce bretheren...) was at a pleasant 25 degrees above horizon, and my brother and I tried to make the cupola sway back and forth with the plastic steering wheel. It was too heavy for me, and then my brother tried. Again, no success. We tried together, and accomplished a small rolling action. We were pleased with our teamwork, and talked about how this ride was "No Big Deal, sheesh..." The Carny progressed the ride again, bringing the cupola angle to 50 degrees. Like sitting in a plastic recliner, we looked around and admired how far were off the ground. In the distance, you could see how we towered over our former kiddie rides. I accepted this rite of passage with a sense of mature joy. No longer would the little cars going in circles hold any power over me. I was a graduate of the Screamer!! I was soaking in the experience, wondering how I would re-live this tale to my fellow classmates once the new school year started. Surely, they had no opportunity to prove their manhood like this! Again, the ride progressed, and this time we were at a straight 90 degrees from horizon. I imagined how astronauts must feel, just before a launch, and how their country must be so proud of such brave men! My brother tried the little plastic wheel again, and this time it spun freely! We turned around the axis, spinning, while sitting in that plastic seat, our backs to the ground. The ride progressed again, and we were at the 10 o’clock position. The steering wheel slipped from my brother’s hand, and we spun upside down, now facing the ground. I screamed. It seems that the cupola was top-heavy, and nothing we did could right us. I screamed louder, hoping that the Carny would recognize a plea for help quickly and make a quick revolution back to the six o’clock and release us. He did no such thing. We instead progressed to the 12 o’clock, the final (and farthest) stop on the release portion of the ride. I was crying pathetically, begging my brother to use his strength and turn the plastic wheel. The ride started in earnest, jerking us forward, and DOWNWARD. The ground approached too fast, and then with a horrible spin the process started over again, going up on the 6-12 portion of the horrific clock/wheel I was trapped inside, spinning and being thrown back to earth on the 12-6 portion. I came to the conclusion that God was punishing me for my sins, and only through prayer would I get through this. I screamed my allegiance to my Christian God, promising a celibate and pure life if released from this ride! The wheel continued to pick up speed, and Rock-and-Roll music started to play. Dire Straits “Money for Nothing” taunted my senses. My brother frantically pawed at the plastic wheel; I think he may have also been screaming, but I was too occupied in my own endeavours to inquire. The Carny had resigned us to our fate. We were to die there that day. I stopped crying, and started to babble incoherently. My throat hurt from the screaming; my stomach was upset from the carnival food and the unexpected revolutions. I concentrated on maintaining my continence, and was close to losing that. When the ride slowed, we stopped again at 12 o’clock, to begin the unloading process. I was euphoric! Three more unloads and we would be free! The good Lord had heard my prayers! Praying does work! I was a born-again Christian at the tender age of 7! When released, the Carny commented that he doesn’t usually let the ride go that long, but “The way you two were screaming was drawing the crowd.” I then noticed the long line-up for the Screamer. I then tasted my first bout of irony: First, the name of the ride was The Screamer. Second, I had prolonged my horrifying experience by screaming, and thus being used as free marketing for the ride. Oh, cruel fate… __________________ 3.141592654 Hey, if you are impressed with my memorizing pi to 10 digits, you should see the size of my penis.