Editor's Disclaimer: The following story is purely fictional and should be considered parody. All characters and trademarks belong to their respective owners, and nothing within should be taken seriously.
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A story of a man finally meeting the lady of his dreams to make a fantasy very likely become the love of his life Disneyland is a wonderful place…the happiest place I have been told. And, it has always driven me nuts. Living just a few miles away for over two decades, one begins to realize that it's not really a happy place, just another way for someone to take as much money from you as possible. And the workers aren't really happy and aren't really cast members. They're just underpaid workers trying to feed their families, make money for college or otherwise perform a function for inadequate compensation.
Of course, my take on Disneyland and all things mouse is definitely in the minority. Whether through childhood programming or something in the water, I have had to listen for years about how it really is a great place and it really is different. In fact, my lone stand against what I consider to be the true evil empire—communism having proven a poor adversary—has made somewhat antagonistic on the subject and I try to defame or embarrass the organization at every turn.
My greatest feat was achieved last weekend however and I think I may eve retire from my posturing. At thirty years old and detesting the amusement park as I do, one might imagine I would turn down and offer to visit the park with a couple who was entertaining friends from out of town. Ashley and Greg have known me for years and have endured my "great Evil" speeches many times. In fact, I am sure Ashley told Greg to ask me as a way of needling me.
Of course, it backfired. I jump at the chance to educate virgins in the ways of Disney's evil. In this case, the virgins were three friends of Ashley's from college who were visiting for a wedding. None had ever been to Disneyland. In a less paranoid moment, it occurred to me that maybe Greg had invited me because all the girls were single like myself. However, it is hard for me to think that anything can be so nice and positive when Disney is involved so the possibility of love was the furthest thing from my mind.
I had pause to reconsider this assessment upon meeting Ashley's friends. In a drunken conversation, I had once admitted to Ashley that I would dearly love to have sex with her and frequently included her in my fantasies. She admitted the feeling were mutual. We had never discussed it again but both smiled in that conspiratorially way, as if, in some way, we had both already cheated on Greg just by saying it.
Two of Ashley's friends, Kendra and Beth, could have passed for Ashley's sisters. Pert breasts that defy both reality and gravity while daring you to challenge their authenticity. Skin that is flawless to the eye, warm to the touch and causes one to lose all high brain functions upon contact. Pure beauty, in other words. The kind that makes one understand how a couple thousand guys really jump into boats and head off to Troy for a decade or so of misery over one woman. I secretly hate Greg, in case you haven't figured it out. He doesn't rank with Disney and I certainly don't have grounds for this dislike. I just really want to fuck his wife and will probably never come to terms with the fact that he gets to.
Strolling through the park with four beautiful girls, I almost forgot my burning hatred for all things mouse. However, a leopard cannot change his spots and I found my ire rearing its head often. The groups seemed to humor me until I snuck up behind Donald Duck and removed his headpiece. With dozens of screaming kids instantly coming to the realization that Donald was, in actuality, a twenty-year-old kid with bad acne, I best a hasty retreat, dumping the head into the nearest bathroom stall.
I returned not to the adulation I so richly deserved but mean comments from most of the group telling me what a horrible thing I had done. Ashley then proceeded to tell me that not everyone was jaded and that I should respect people more. She then said that these people took their jobs seriously and weren't the rejects I made them out to be.
I told her the way she talked, one would think the people who wore these costumes were like saints or those guys who guard the Tower of London; never moving and highly disciplined. She asked me why I found it so hard to believe. I said because it wasn't true. And then she said the magic words; "Prove it."
One of the nice things about being single is the fact that you are earning for one rather than two or three or more. Thus, I have always had the capital to do what I want. And, right now, I had in mind to use that capital quite creatively.
For years, Greg has bothered me to help him with his business. I, of course, never have because I'm pissed he gets to sleep with his wife. In truth, the only thing stopping his graphics design business from growing is access to capital. Instead, he and Ashley barely squeak by and she has had to put off having children for a long time.
"Ashley, I am going to prove that the hero of everyone who loves Disney is a sick depraved individual just like anyone else," I said. She laughed and said it would be pretty hard to embarrass a fictional character. Why, I said. The park is built on fiction and everyone seems willing to believe it.
She then told me to explain. I then whispered in her ear my proposal. I wanted her to give Mickey Mouse a blowjob for which I would compensate her $100,000 upon successful completion. The initial reaction was, of course, anger. She was so pissed I figured that that would be the end. Instead, she told me that I wouldn't pay up. In response, I said that I would not only pay up but that I would gladly write out a promissory note on my house right on the spot.
"For a stupid bet, you'd give me a hundred grand just to win a stupid bet," she said. Everyone else was shocked. Having now heard one side of the bet, they were dying to know what the dare was. Greg asked her but she just shook her head and told him to wait. Finally, she asked Greg if he trusted he. He said of course. Then, she said that he had to trust her and she was going to do something for their family.
I smiled, especially when Greg looked at me trying to figure out what I possibly could be asking his wife to do. She told Greg to head for the Pirates of the Caribbean and that we would meet them there in a little while. After some prompting, she left.
"Okay, I'll call," she said. "Now how are we going to find Mickey in all this mess."
Luckily, the eagerness to please that is Disney would be their undoing. I simply walked up to the nearest security person (hoping they didn't have a good description of the duck assailant) and told them I needed a picture of Mickey for my nephews back home. A short call on the radio was all it took to discover Mickey was in Tomorrow Land near the old submarine ride that the bastards had closed down years ago.
I grabbed Ashley's hand and we jogged to Mickey's last known location.
"What am I supposed to do," Ashley said.
"Well, I'm not an expert cocksucker but I am pretty sure that what you do is make your mouth into an O…" I started sarcastically.
"You know what I mean," she snarled. "How are we going to do it."
