The Anniversary Surprise

Round and round and round and round, an amusement ride she can't get off, centrifugal force gluing her body splayed out like roadkill to the carpeted walls of the cylinder. So much force holding her up. Bev tries to pull her head off the wall but she strains her neck with the effort. The 12 year old kid across from her is grinning like a banshee as he rotates himself in a perfect starfish pattern so he is completely upside down. Just wait til this comes to an abrupt stop, she thinks. Then who's laughing? You'll drop flat on your head, wonderboy. Garrison reaches his hand out and grabs Bev's wrist, clawing and scratching like their cat in the kennel on his way to the vet. Get me out of here! he hisses off voice. Bev manages to rotate her face to her left, sees Garrison's eyes wild in panic, his face a perfect shade of chartreuse and sweat pouring off of him in sheets. Bev takes a second to question if it is in fact raining in here. Poor Garrison, wanting to show her a good time. Stepping so far out of his comfort zone, he's effectively base jumping without a parachute right now. This isn't going to end well. Jackfruit tacos and vegan deep fried churros for a late lunch an hour before the carny rides was part of the poorly organized plan. When he offered to do something special, something wild and crazy and silly and fun for their 10th anniversary she didn't seriously think he'd go for it. They hate amusement parks. Loathe them. Neither is great with mexican food. His acid reflux must be having a field day right about now. She didn't want to disappoint him but now she feels she may have killed him or at least scarred him for life. The Scrambler was one thing, the giant swings were almost do-able but this G Force gravity spinning death nausea inducing thrill kill ride is just bonkers. She sees Garrison's colour completely drain and the all too familair look cross his face. He was going to hurl, any second now, facing her, rotating 90 miles an hour counterclockwise which means Bev would soon be wearing today's lunch. Slow motion panic sets in as Bev tries desperately to inch away and release herself from Garrison's clutch. I love you, she says, don't puke on me! And with that the ride begins it's decelleration. They slide down the wall where Garrison promptly collapses into a heap at her feet. Happy anniversary honey, he croaks then passes out on the sticky linoleaum flooring. True love comes in many forms.

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