The Strange Table goes to Great America

By Dangerously Psycho

     One June afternoon, the Strange Table went to Six Flags Great America with the Niles West band.
     The Strange Table is a group of Niles West students who claim and dominate any table in the Caf near Uncle Bob's Hot Dogs and Liquor from mods seventeen through nineteen. Their ethnic group consists of Sicko, who finds unintended pleasure in anything you tell him; Annoying, who had been running from the law, but now has the law running from him; Dangerously Psycho, who sometimes slips into strange comas and wakes up in the girl's bathroom; Drum Boy, because every group needs a good drummer; Dude, who once rewired his toaster into a bomb; and What DeHelizat, who can send an entire civilization into mass confusion.
     On this particular weekend, the Strange Table was ready to enjoy a fun-filled day at the amusement park.
     "We've got to take action!" stated Psycho.
     "Yeah," agreed Drum Boy. "The park officially opens in five minutes. Which ride should we go to first?"
     "The Protractor of Terror!"
     "That show where they juggle battle axes!"
     "Sex, the Ride!"
     The group had split decisions, so they decided to take their own paths.

     Psycho and Sicko walked around a bit and wandered into Roaring Rapids, the eight-seat water ride. Not really aware of what was going on, they were seated with a family of four and a young couple in their twenties.
     "Who're you?" asked the family's five-year-old daughter.
     "Whore? Did you say whore?" answered Sicko.
     "I'm Psycho, and he's Sicko," explained the teen.
     "You're strange," decided the girl.
     "Well, duh," replied Psycho.
     Sicko began talking to the young couple.
     "So, do you two, um, uh, well, you know? Like, um, yeah, with Cadbury eggs and stuff? I bet you do. If you two ever need help, uh, I'm like, here for ya. Cool."
     "Hey, you, Strange Guy!" called the girl.
     "That's Psycho, fruitcake."
     "I thought he was Psycho."
     "No, he's Sicko."
     "Whatever. Get ready to get wet!"
     As the innertube passed under the first of many small waterfalls of the ride, Psycho began going into feverish convulsions, gnawing madly at the seatbelt strap.

     Drum Boy was on the far side of the park where he was eyeing the many competitive group games. Then he saw it.
     "How do you play this?" he pondered out loud.
     "It's called Whack-a-mole," answered the attendant. "One play for a buck."
     "Sure, why not?" said Drum Boy, fingering the large, heavy rodent-mallet.

     What was eating some cotton candy when he noticed some commotion near the Sky Whirl, a ride that suspends people in a cage high in the air.
     "Why all the commotion?" queried What.
     "Four people just fell out of one of the cages, breaking all of their necks!" explained a frantic worker. "There's still someone in the cage. We don't know why the people came flying out!"
     "Hey, What!" called a familiar voice. "Up here!"
     Waving from an open cage was Annoying.
     "I was trying to get my new friends to harmonize with me in a round of 'Nacho Man', but they all ran out the door screaming in sheer terror. Do you think you could help me find them?"

     Later that day, Sicko was walking around near the Shock Wave when he saw Drum Boy carrying fifteen large stuffed animals.
     "Where'd those, heh, 'come' from?" questioned Sicko.
     "I was playing some Whack-a-weasel thing, and I suddenly lost all usual consciousness. I think I started performing the drum beat to 'Wipeout'. When I snapped out of it, I had won these things."
     "You said 'beat'."
     "Look," began Drum Boy. "It's What and Annoying!"
     "Hey, guys," greeted What. "Anyone seen D.P? I thought he was with Sicko."
     "Oh, Psycho's around here somewhere. He started going into flashbacks from the second World War."
     "But he wasn't in that war."
     "So? He has flashbacks from Woodstock, too."
     Suddenly, a crowd of people swept past in terror.
     "Look!" shouted Annoying. "There he is!"
     "Pearl Harbor! Pearl Harbor! Blood! Kiiillllll!" chanted the crowbar-wielding Psycho.
     "Well, we're all here," What pointed out. "Where should we go now."
     "BUMPER CARS!" shouted Sicko. "BUMPER! BUMPER, BUMPER!"
     "But the line's too long," sighed Drum Boy. "It would take forever to get in."
     "Just leave that to me," promised Annoying.
     "Just leave 'that' to you? Oh, nasty!"
     The five got in line behind two hip-hop guys.
     "Hey, guys," greeted Annoying.
     "Yo, brother! What's up?"
     "I am not!"
     "Alice Lee?"
     "Let me get this straight..."
     "Get this straight? Oh, nasty!"
     "Hey everybody!" announced Annoying. "Lookatmybutt!"
     Within seconds, the bumper car area was completely empty.
     "This is boring," decided Sicko.
     "Why don't we take our own bumper cars?" asked Psycho.
     Not one person noticed the five bumper cars strapped to the top of the school bus on the way home.
     The next day, the Strange Table met to discuss.
     "I've brought Dude here to help us set up a bumper car arena," began What.
     "Dude, du-dude, dude, dude," explained the technician.
     "By lengthening the antennas on the cars, we can drive them in any area with a large, metal ceiling," repeated What. "Using Dude's super battery, we just have to attach these alligator clips to the metal, and we're all set."
     "But where do we have a large metal ceiling?" questioned Drum Boy.
     Later that day, the six met in the Field House.
     "Are you all in your cars?" asked What.
     "We're all ready!" assured Psycho.
     "Dude, du-dude!" shouted the wanderer as he connected the cables.


     "Whoa!" stated Psycho after the roof blew off. "That was really bright! Can we do that again?"
     "Oh, nasty!"
     "So wuddawedo now?" asked a singed Drum Boy.
     "Well," thought What, "when in doubt, go hunting!"
     And so the group went off for their air rifles and hand grenades.

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