The Happiest Nightmare.

It was a trip of a lifetime, yet, something was off. Everything was quintessential Disney. The princesses, the rides (excluding the long lines of course), down to the artificially high prices. But something was up with the mouse.


We had just left space mountain when Sammy spotted him wandering between throngs of people.


“Oh my god, Dad. Look! It’s Mickey Mouse.”


Wait, Mickey Mouse. Mickey Fucking Mouse, here? At Disney World. Get the fuck outta here Sammy. No way.


“Nice spot Sammy.”


“Can I get a picture with him? Please?”


“Of course buddy. Let’s get over there quick before he has to leave on important mouse business.”


I wonder how hot it is in that goddamn suit. Florida heat, muggy, tons of kids running around. I wonder if any actor has passed out from dehydration. That would be quite the show. All them kids freaking out. ‘Mommy, daddy, Mickey’s dead.’ Ha.


I followed behind Sammy best I could. But, truth be told, I was feeling the heat too. I needed a nap. But, it would have to wait for tomorrow. Then, Daddy would have the hotel room all to himself and mommy would be out here keeping a leash on the boy.


“Hey Mickey. Mickey. Can I get a picture?” Sammy said, running up to the mouse. Sammy, like the ton of bricks he is, couldn’t stop himself and bumped Mickey sending him staggering.


After he regained his footing the big freak waved his cartoon hand at Sammy’s face. He took a knee, looked around for a armed cellphone and shrugged. I decided to jog over with my iPhone before the Disney blackshirts came and hustled poor Sammy away.


“Right here Mickey. Sammy. Smile.” click click. “Alright, nice picture. Thanks bud.” I patted the man-mouse on the shoulder and he tried to stand, falling back to the ground. “Hey you alright there pal?” I said, lowering my voice.


Hrrrng. Mrrrngah.”


“Yeah you’re gonna have to speak up pal. I can’t hear you through the suit.” I pulled Sammy aside. “ Hey bud take this fiver and go get Daddy a water from the concessions cart.”




I turned back to the mouse. “What the fuck are you saying buddy. You alright? You need to take that head off?” I said, yanking at costume.


It was funny earlier, but dammit you are NOT traumatizing MY kid damnit. Save that shit for another day.


Then he did it. The bastard collapsed. He went limp and fell head first into the pavement. A couple of screams flew in our direction. I bit back a cackle.


You fucked up now pal. You’ve probably go heat stroke now, but after that your ass is fired. No way Disney brass let you keep this job. Damn Blackshirts didn’t even let me wear my sexy Princess Leia shirt into the park– and I paid to get in.


A woman appeared to my right and muttered something about nurses. She was clearly unphased by the situation, but, damn, she too needed help.


Jesus, you could probably carry a week’s worth of groceries in the bags under her eyes. Probably does 20 hour shifts at hospitals.


She started tugging at the head when she looked up and directed the crowd. “Someone get help. Mickey needs water.”


Okay lady, that’s a person, not a fucking mouse.


“Okay lady, that’s a person. Not a fucking mouse.” I said kneeling down beside her.


Shit. Goddamn it. Guess the filter can’t get ‘em all.


“Well, no shit Sherlock.”


I shrugged. Couldn’t argue with her there. We worked together to behead Mickey, to the dismay of the kids, and later the blackshirts.


“Mickey’s not real?” A tiny voice said behind me.


Ho. Lee. Shit. You better believe it buster. It’s just a person in this giant mouse costume. Oh and Santa Clause is a creation of Coca Cola to perpetrate endless buying in our consumerist economy. Shit, stay on target. Stay on target.


The poor sap on the ground was drenched. Soaked all the way through. His face beat red from the heat. Then there was the smell.


“This guy’s been boozing.” I said, to the woman.


“He needs water. Now!” She stood and faced the growing crowd. “Can somebody please get some water?”


Sammy fought through fatty thighs to break into the circle. “Here, dad.”


Fuck yeah Sammy. Coming to save the day. See that chica. Me and my boy are on top of our shit.  


I poured a bit of water on the sap’s forehead. He stirred a bit, and I brought the bottle to his lips. He tried to gulp, driven mad by the first taste of water.


“Easy there killer. Take it slowly. Otherwise you’ll probably throw it up. Take it in sips.” The nurse said, grabbing the bottle. He abided.


“Excuse me,” A shadow loomed over me.


Damn. Blackshirt. Finally.


“I need you to come with me sir.”


“Is someone gonna stick around and help Mickey.” I said, pointing at the teen stuck to the pavement.


“A medical cart has been dispatched.” He said, behind his mirrored aviators.


“Well alrighty then.” I said, grabbing Sammy’s hand. “Let’s go champ.”


“Is that your child, sir?”


“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that, er… what is your name?”


“Mr. B”


Mr. B.? Are you serious? Is this place run by the secret police?


“Right. Well I am this child’s father. Right Sammy?” He nodded in agreement.


We broke through the crowd and embarked on a golf cart. A quick left and we rolled down into a service tunnel behind Space Mountain. The happiest place on earth was beginning to take on a very brutal feel. Gray concrete everywhere, accented by the occasional yellow directional arrow. After what felt like 5 sub-levels later we stopped and stepped in what felt like an interrogation room. Mr. B. gave Sammy and I water and told us to take a seat and wait for his supervisor: Mr. A.


“How long is this gonna take B?”


“Mr. B.”


“Yeah Mr. B. Anyway how long is this gonna take? I bought my son and I jump the line passes and we’re losing daylight down here.” I stopped and looked around. “Not that you guys know what that is.” 


After a few more moments of silence the heavy gray door swung open. Another sunglasses-wearing blackshirt came forward.


“Jesus Christ,” I said. “They make you all in a lab or something? All you guys look exactly the same.” Mr. B shook his head, but the new gentleman, Mr. A chuckled.


“Very funny, Mr. Kovack.” Mr. A said pulling out a chair opposite of Sammy and I.


“How do you know my name?”


“It’s my job to know everyone in my park, Mr. Kovack.”


“Is that so? That’s fucking creepy. You know that right?”


A wisp of a smile passed his lips. “Yes, I’ve been told.”


This motherfucker loves this. What a freak.


“First of all Mr. Kovack, I wanted to thank you personally for responding to our little situation earlier out there. Mickey going down like that was unfortunate, and he could’ve been seriously hurt without you. So on behalf the Disney family, I would like to thank you.”


All this for a fucking “Thank you”?




“And secondly, what you did violated company policy. By removing one of our characters head’s you have destroyed the illusion we here at Disney try so hard to cultivate. And for that, I must issue you and your family a lifetime ban from all Disney-related theme parks. You and your family must vacate the premises immediately.” With that Mr. A stood, and walked out of the room.


…Is this motherfucker serious?


“Excuse me?” I said standing myself.


A firm shoulder came down and pushed me back in my seat. Sammy started to cry.


“Sir, you need to remain calm. I’ll be escorting you out of the premises.”
“Like hell you will, you cartoon fascists.” I had gone mad. Lost it completely. The happiest place on earth will do that to you I suppose. I don’t remember much after that. Just my 50,000 volts and a violent burning sensation in my loins. I came to in the parking lot of the Holiday Inn a few miles north of the park. Sammy and my wife wouldn’t even look at me. The vacation was ruined. I swore it was the last time that I ever saved Mickey Mouse from having a heat stroke. Being nice only gets you kicked out of Disney World. To survive, I learned, you have to be a cold and calculating bastard, like the namesake himself.


Prompt: It was the trip of a lifetime, yet

P.S. Disney is great, pls don’t hurt me.


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