So this spring break was possibly the craziest week of my life.
Initially, I was unsure about how this break was going to go: I am a senior and was forced to go on a vacation with my parents, my two little brothers and my little sister. On top of this, my dad has a ridiculous fear of the Transportation Security Administration.
A few years ago, my father was detained for an hour by the TSA in a glass box in the middle of the airport because he refused to take off his watch when he went through security. As a result, we never fly anywhere ... and he says it's because he doesn't want to be subjected to a groping.
Anyway, we had decided to go on a cruise with Royal Caribbean, which I guess is sort of exciting. I figured I could just slip away and go to the ship's casino.
After the 10-hour road trip to Orlando – where the boat was docked – and after we managed to get on the ship, I left my family behind to go down and grab a drink.
When I went down to the bar, I was surprised to find out that not only was the bar Egyptian-themed, but there was a midget convention on the cruise ship and they all were enjoying tequila.
I don't know if you all have ever seen a crowd of midgets dressed in all sorts of weird costumes drowning in tequila, but it is a spectacle of madness and sin that would make Beelzebub blush.
After wading through the crowd of screaming, drunk midgets for about 17 (or so) minutes, I finally managed to make it to the counter. Eight shots of tequila later, a female midget in a gender bent Gimli costume coaxed me back to her cabin and forced me to groom her majestic beard as she flogged me repeatedly with a two-handed Nerf claymore – which she affectionately named the growth-stunter.
Minutes later, five midgets dressed as a pack of feisty goblins from Lord of the Rings burst into the cabin and began attacking the gender-bent Gimli. I looked on in utter shock and terror until the gender-bent Gimli forced me into a gray bathrobe with a funny hood and commanded me to do my best Gandalf impression (because I was the tallest one there).
After several hours of this, I was left confused, tired and covered in blood, sweat, tears and bits of Nerf foam as I tried to wipe my memory of all the regrettable decisions I had made that night. The Gimli impersonator towered over me as I lay in the fetal position in the floor of her room. "S-so do I owe you m-mo-money now or something?" I stammered, visibly frightened by the miniature She-Hulk that stood before me. "I'm gonna need about tree fiddy," she replied.
That's when I realized she was actually an eight-story tall crustacean from the Proterozoic Era! I quickly bolted out of the room and took the first emergency life boat I could, leaving the cruise ship behind. That damn Loch Ness monster almost got me again!
Snake Plitzkin is the Editor-in-Chief of the Tangerine, the sad, oft-maligned little brother of The Daily Beacon. Beacon Chief R.J. "Running Jaguar" Vogt let him and his little band of elves write today's opinion page in honor of the first day of April, one that has traditionally been considered the flagship holiday of tangerines.
Snake cannot be reached, but he can be held at will.