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The Many Vacation Packages of Kartrina Resort
by
Tiffany Alfonso
Chapter Seven
The next day, we arrived at the entrance of Rhymbina, the third oldest theme
park in the resort complex.
When I first entered the park, an ocean of stardom drenched me with mixed
feelings. It was a captivating utopia that had a noteworthy main drag that's
renowned in Hollywood, a section of Los Angeles remarkable for its films and
celebrities. Unlike the latter, it was centered on Hollywood musicals and
Broadway's melodic follies from the Roaring Twenties to today. It was the hub of
the whole park, a crumb similar to the Disney Studios Park in Florida. The
exquisiteness of them diffused through every nook and cranny of the entire park.
A black-haired, Belgian woman who's wearing glasses looked at us with a
flabbergasted look in her face.
"Playful Peasgood, Rompin' Rachel, Kitty Arfken, Cherry Plucker, 'Soonist Sally,
and Hans Glutcher," the damsel asked excitingly, "Where have you been, comrades?
I've been looking all over the resort for you!"
"It's been a long story, Bullfiddler Bruggemeyer," Playful Peasgood said, "I
believed that you know why we have two visitors and one of the managers of the
KRVPC."
"Well, I'm trying to find you comrades because my fellow friends who remained in
Regis Manor got me involved in this escapade by telling that I must join you,"
Bullfidler Bruggemeyer answered, "I heard you were involved in this too, so I
got lost a bit."
"That's fine, Bullfiddler B.; you're now with us," Playful Peasgood replied as
she patted her back. She then turned around and said, "Mr. M, Whiz Kid Forte,
and Kyle Mort, meet Bullfiddler Bruggemeyer."
"I'm so very pleased to meet you, Ms. B.," Kyle Mort said as he shook her hand.
He then questioned, "What's the trouble here in Rhymbina?"
"Come to the Crown Palace Hotel and I'll show you." the lass smirked as she led
us there.
We arrived shortly at the hotel, which was actually the Bean and His Friends
Checks In ride. It was a freefall ride, but it's three stories shorter than the
Tower of Terror ride at Disney's counterpart of this place. On the garden
leading to the entrance, the path was lined with many varieties of California's
bountiful perennials that lasted until the fall of 2006. Palmettos, tropical
ferns, maintained topiaries, and trimmed hedges adorned the Spanish-roofed
lodging for the posh.
Inside it there was a lobby with all the ComMedia Della Artesia characters that
had starring roles in it. We went to the Library of Beanery, a comical contrast
between this ride and Disney's ghastly equivalent. As we entered the boiler
room, many delightful pictures of teddy bears adorn it. The elevators display
the latest developments, the notable events, and the top stories of the resort.
This place is more cheery rather than daunting, which makes this ride
distinguishing from other themed freefall rides.
"Beguiling bassoons," 'Soonist Sally shivered, "Is there any paraphernalia of 'dat
Dave in 'dat spooky place, hon?"
"Unfortunately," Bullfiddler Bruggemeyer replied, "I saw some words that relate
to the fitness boom of the eighties. I also spotted drawings of headbands, track
shorts, tank tops, legwarmers, and spandex active wear that's popular to the
decade."
"I heard music in this hotel," I said, "In addition, it's all on the topic of
eighties fitness, the balletic dance of the era, or even both!"
"Hey, y'all; I've found a dollar!" Mr. M exclaimed as he raised the dollar bill
with an eighties dancer centered on it.
"Leave that dough alone, fella," Playful Peasgood warned, "It might be spurious
or somethin'." She then ordered us as the doors opened, "The doors are open; we
must get in, WITHOUT HESITATION!"
As we entered the elevator, I noticed the seats in it. Maybe I was precise on
this ride; the ride really WAS similar to the other one in Disney's equal that
was three stories higher. It ascended up to the third floor, where I saw Bean
dancing to the music played by a saxophonist on the street. We then continued on
to the fifth floor, where we saw a corridor emblematic of hotels. The elevator
approached slowly as we followed the Bean clones to the other side of the hotel.
"Now what?" Kyle Mort complained.
"Accordin' to the guide, we must be approachin' the tenth floor. After a few
moments, FREEFALL!" Rompin' Rachel convinced him.
When we reached the tenth floor, I peered out the open doors and I observed
nonentity. Instead, I heard eighties calisthenics music without an appearance of
a fitness instructor. I saw one male dancer ready to come out and expose those
ballet-like moves to the world.
"What was that guy doing out there?" Mr. M inquired.
"Maybe he was tryin' to be a Stevie LaChance of the park," Playful Peasgood
replied naively, "or an eighties style version of…"
"IT'S GONNA FALL!" Hans screamed hysterically.
"OH, GRACIOUS NO!" everyone else cried.
The elevator plunged down as we got the same reactions as the Wild River Orocan
Ride back in Ovationia. After we dismissed that futile freefall ride, we came to
a very delightful gift shop. Instead of the predictable souvenirs that were
themed after rides, we came across assortments and assortments of dancewear and
athletic wear, both of which were the flashiest dance rehearsal fashions of the
1980's. Playful Peasgood's ears perked up as a catchy throb murmured in the
shop.
"Wait, guys," she called out, "I'm hearin' eighties music a-commin' from the
park."
"It must be a dancin' number," Bullfiddler Bruggmeyer said, "or somethin' like
that."
As we sneaked out of the gift shop, some teens my age impeded us. Most of them
wore tennis shoes and jeans, whereas others wore any attire for dance sessions
(particularly jazz and lyrical). A selection from a musical I personally knew
since they acted out two months ahead of my vacation. Convincingly, those
excerpts were "And the Gods Heard Her Prayer" and "Rain."
"What musical was that?" 'Soonist Sally asked.
"I dunno," Kyle Mort shrugged, "Maybe it's some eighties musical or something."
"Wait, Kyle," I interrupted, "I know it!"
"That seemed familiar," Playful Peasgood said as she scratched her forehead,
'Whiz Kid, I believe those excerpts came from 'Once on This Island,' a musical I
watched since it came out in about…um…1990."
"I remembered that, Miss P," I said, "My school chose that musical for the
spring play."
"Have you seen 'dat theatrical gem on a real theater?" she asked.
"No, but I wish I could see adults perform it."
"I once met Mr. Flaherty during the rehearsal, and the show was fantastic."
"Hey, aren't they supposed to be performin' on a REAL stage?" asked 'Soonist
Sally as the show ended.
"I think it a kind of street show they've put on," Mr. M said, "and I've seen
that show too."
"Err, guys," I inquired, "why would you show this kind of presentation when my
group were on an adventure? Anyway, your renditions of the excerpts from 'Once
on This Island' were great and they rang a bell because…"
As I tried to cease my comment and my query, the young adults departed in front
of our eyes. Were they having a mini-rehearsal for a school play or were they
holding a dry run for a school-sponsored talent show? We found a sprightly
southern woman in her early thirties, who witnessed the performance, settled on
a concrete bench.
"I know these kids very well, y'all." She said with a tender spark in her eyes.
"If you know them," I questioned, "why are they performing two pieces from 'Once
on This Island' in their everyday costume in front of us?"
"Oh, I see," she said, "The real reason was because they are performing in a
touring presentation of 'Once on This Island Junior,' sponsored by Woodville
Middle School. Anyway, I was the school principal since last year. Unless all
the muddle was cleaned up, we'll have to skip the first destination in which you
guys were standing on."
"Oh, you mean Kartrina." I uttered, "That's the resort you're touring. The one
who made this pigsty was Doodlin' Davey, a naughty boy who began drawing on the
walls in his house. Now his drawings were all over the whole resort!"
"Hey girl," she asked, "May I join you and your band of adventurers?"
"Go ahead," I stated as she got off the bench.
As we trotted a few meters away from the exit of the ride, hodgepodges of
dancers invaded the whole park. Men were fully clad in tanks, unitards, and
woolen pants. Women were nymphs in legwarmers, leotards, and any type of
constricted and slender dancewear a woman can wear in a non-dress rehearsal.
They have inundated the park with movements that prove ballet and jazz is a
homogenous mixture in the dance world. Pas de deuxes reflecting eighties
romance, immense leaps, and sky-scraping kicks explicated chaos in the whole
park. Also, women were togged up in pointe shoes in distinct colors, which were
farcically out-of-context with jazz dancing genre of that decade. The park was
anarchy that recalled the performance back in Ovationia, with the immunity of
the drum corps with saxophones.
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