Shoup Airlines

15 Seconds, Part Boo!

Not so long ago, in a neighborhood right across the street, I spoke of a nocturnal menace that haunted my precious and coma-inducing sleep. Trying to wake me is on par with attempting to scoop all the oceans into a single Dixie cup. However, this Banshee appeared to own the Dixie company! That is, until I became desensitized and hermaniacal mechanical rants became just another screeching voice in the background.

She’s back! First, some background. The aforementioned amusement park turns the entire place into a haunt-fest during nights in October, rides and all. Often imitated, but never equalled, Knott’s Scary Farm was the first and has been scaring the bejesus out of people, young and old, for 33 years! Many people from the entertainment community go to work there solely for this temporary event. Costumes, effects, and props always seem to be top notch, but you really can’t care because of the “pull your brain through your nose with a rusty fish hook and then do a Spanish Flamenco dance on it” shrieks that continually come from the female companions you are indubitably with. God forbid if one of said female companions is holding on to you in any way, shape, or form. Then you’re in for a treat that makes Freddy Kreuger’s hand look like a flimsy spork! Oh sure, you think it’s cute and funny at first, but by the 42nd time your eyes are bleeding spinal fluid and you actually look like one of the monsters running around! It’s a great time, I recommend it to anyone. But I digress…

As I said, the bleep-er bleep-ing, bleep-rd spawn of a hamster and elderberry smelling father, the Banshee, is back and with a vengeance. She has bridged the gap and is now a diurnal thorn in my side as well. Knott’s main entrance is at the same intersection I turn to get into my housing tract. Right around 5:30 pm, the local police invade the area and shut down all northbound left turn lanes within a 5 mile radius of said intersection. Gee, what time do you think I generally get to this intersection?

After detouring through VICTORVILLE to get back to my place, I am finally safe until nightfall. Somehow, the mechanical shrills that emanate from Knott’s during the rest of the year are now amplified during the Halloween Haunt. I still don’t know the reason for this. Not only are they louder, they last much, much longer than 15 seconds. It’s almost a continuous low moan accompanied with constant shrieks that vary in pitch every few seconds. Rob Zombie would die in ecstacy.
Again, I thought this was cool, extremely malicious, but very cool nonetheless.

That is until I go to bed!! My skills at desensitizing and coma-induced sleep have betrayed me. I am able to fall asleep, where my subconscious (the biggest part of my mind) takes over and taps right into the ghoulish dirge, setting the tone for all dreams to come that night. These ungodly creations make George A. Romero’s worst nightmare look like an intolerably cute children’s book with a title like “Phil the Fluffy Squirrel and his Flufferful Friends!” Being in coma-induced sleep, I can’t wake up either!

The banshee is smiling one of those razor sharp, toothy grins with a single drop of blood dribbling down the side of her chin.

Happy Halloween, Blaah!