I wanted to sprint to the Kooky Kastle but feared looking like a nerd. After all, a pretty, older girl had just winked at me. As I walked briskly down the midway toward the ride, I could hear screams and groans followed by Count Dracula’s voice mocking their cries for help, proclaiming: “Ha-Ha, you can’t get away from me! Nobody can escape the Kooky Kastle! Ride it…if you dare!”. I observed no remnants of the former JigSaw. The façade indeed looked like a kooky, goofy, castle but I knew the uneven clapboards and leaning castle turrets were part of the act. The cars were coffins on wheels and entered underneath a giant skull with a huge, dangling eyeball. As I approached the queue, I caught sight of the second floor balcony where a coffin-shaped car with two riders appeared about 10 feet overhead and then vanished back into the Kastle. When my coffin arrived, the ride op opened the “lid”, lowered it over my knees and then pushed a green lighted button. Off I went under the skull’s hanging eyeball.

  Immediately I felt as if I was being watched. That’s because the room was wall-to-wall day-glo green eyeballs illuminated by overhead blacklight. The eyeballs were all different sizes and shapes, and some seemed to follow my coffin as it rolled along. The sound recording sent chills up my spine. It was the whispers of the creatures behind the eyeballs, seeming to come from multiple hidden speakers, each playing a different whispering voice, some male, some female. “There’s one now,” said a voice. “Don’t let it go this time!” demanded another.
My coffin crashed through a set of double doors into Tracy’s revolving barrel scene. The coffin rode along a catwalk inside barrel which was lined with orange day-glo paint given the illusion of a vortex. Spinning counterclockwise in the opposite direction was a wooden disk carrying a man and woman in a stockade, their unseen faces pinned to the disk by the force of the vortex. Coming within two feet of the disk, my coffin suddenly veered off to the right through another set of double doors and down a dark corridor.
Looking about 20 feet ahead I could see a stack of dimly-lit wooden barrels in the left-hand corner. Thinking that the stack would eventually tip over towards me, I zeroed in on it. Big mistake. It was not the only stunt in the corridor. Overhead, a giant bat lunged down to the sound of a loud, high pitched whistle. It looked to be the brother of the bat I saw in the Congo Cruise’s final scene. Recovering from the shock of the bat attack, I discovered that my coffin was within five feet of the barrels, which as I expected, leaned over toward my head, just as my coffin turned away.

 
 
Taking a sharp turn to the right, I was startled by the sound of compressed air and a loud siren. From behind a stone wall made of fiberglas rose Tracy’s rare Jack The Ripper stunt: a crazed man, draped in a cape, holding two bloodied daggers over his head. The scene was set up as if Jack had been hiding behind a back alley wall awaiting his next victim as his torso emerged with his two long daggers pointed at my head.
 
 

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