of Ponce de León’s puppet crew then started making out with a buxom female Indian puppet. I should have been offended, but I was too busy being turned on. The Ponce de León puppet soon came upon a giant fountain, which disappeared down into the ground.
Ponce de León’s quest for the elusive mythical fountain proved fruitless, and the legendary explorer died while trying to find it.
The Ponce de León puppet then shouted out, “Nooooo!” and keeled over.
But now Ponce de León’s dream has finally been realized!
The Ponce de León puppet’s corpse was airlifted by his strings across a fake U.S. landscape to a miniature model of the hotel we were standing in.
Here, at Daniel Benjamin’s Fountain of Youth Resort and Casino! Do all the things Ponce de León always dreamed of doing! Dine alfresco at Fukuku Oh! See Cirque du Soleil in our exclusive new show, Eternia ! Or try your hand at Texas hold’em! It’s all here, along with over five hundred board-certified geneticists ready to give you the cure for death! Only at Daniel Benjamin’s Fountain of Youth Resort and Casino! Eternal life has never been so luxurious! Right, Ponce?
The Ponce de León puppet then sat up, looked at us, and said, “Sí.” We walked out.
“I don’t think that presentation was historically accurate,” Scott said.
“Well, sometimes you have to take dramatic license.”
The rest of the weekend was spent in a drunken fog, each hour as pointlessly hazy as the last. For his cure ceremony, our friend chose the Velvet Dream chair, a throne nine feet high and made of a purple fabric that purported to be velvet but was almost certainly some kind of space-age, sweat-wicking microfiber polymer. It was a practical choice. If you’re going to be stabbed by three giant fire pokers, you’re gonna want to feel as relaxed as humanly possible. Afterward, we visited the Spearmint Rhino IV club. Every girl inside had a long, lucrative career in front of her. I’m not terribly comfortable in these places, which I find reassuring in a way.
Next to the casino floor at the Fountain of Youth is a stadiumsized mall that houses nothing but shops selling cure-related merchandise. You can get your pick of commemorative T-shirts (I’M HOT . . . AND I’M STAYING THAT WAY is a popular choice), steel cookware with a lifetime warranty, go-tox clinics for older postmortals, safes, laser vision correction, and thirty-year tattoos. There are no wedding parlors, and I didn’t see a single bachelor party the entire weekend. Just one cure party after another.
On our last day, there was a bomb threat in our section of the hotel. They evacuated our rooms and made us wait outside, on the Strip. It was the only time during our trip that I was reminded of 7/3/19, and it unnerved me. The manager assured us that they deal with these threats all the time, which only served to worry me more. As we waited on the Strip, I saw a group of men pass by on the opposite side of the street. They stopped, looked at the hotel, whispered some things to one another, and then kept walking. As they did, I saw one of them wave to the building, as if to say goodbye. I ran to alert a nearby officer, who seemed unconcerned. The men turned the corner. One of them saw me talking to the cop and smirked. He held up his hands and gave me the death symbol: a cupped left hand pressed against his straight right hand, forming a crude D .
After that, I didn’t relax until we were on the plane heading back to LaGuardia. The flight was delayed for three hours due to traffic on the runway.
DATE MODIFIED:
11/15/2029, 3:02 P.M.
A Day in the Life of a Terra Troll
After my experience outside the Fountain of Youth, I came across this anonymous blog posting by someone who claimed to work at the resort.
Contrary to what hotel officials say publicly, the FOY has been attacked by trolls on numerous occasions.
These aren’t just simple bomb threats, designed to keep us running around in
Ponce de León’s quest for the elusive mythical fountain proved fruitless, and the legendary explorer died while trying to find it.
The Ponce de León puppet then shouted out, “Nooooo!” and keeled over.
But now Ponce de León’s dream has finally been realized!
The Ponce de León puppet’s corpse was airlifted by his strings across a fake U.S. landscape to a miniature model of the hotel we were standing in.
Here, at Daniel Benjamin’s Fountain of Youth Resort and Casino! Do all the things Ponce de León always dreamed of doing! Dine alfresco at Fukuku Oh! See Cirque du Soleil in our exclusive new show, Eternia ! Or try your hand at Texas hold’em! It’s all here, along with over five hundred board-certified geneticists ready to give you the cure for death! Only at Daniel Benjamin’s Fountain of Youth Resort and Casino! Eternal life has never been so luxurious! Right, Ponce?
The Ponce de León puppet then sat up, looked at us, and said, “Sí.” We walked out.
“I don’t think that presentation was historically accurate,” Scott said.
“Well, sometimes you have to take dramatic license.”
The rest of the weekend was spent in a drunken fog, each hour as pointlessly hazy as the last. For his cure ceremony, our friend chose the Velvet Dream chair, a throne nine feet high and made of a purple fabric that purported to be velvet but was almost certainly some kind of space-age, sweat-wicking microfiber polymer. It was a practical choice. If you’re going to be stabbed by three giant fire pokers, you’re gonna want to feel as relaxed as humanly possible. Afterward, we visited the Spearmint Rhino IV club. Every girl inside had a long, lucrative career in front of her. I’m not terribly comfortable in these places, which I find reassuring in a way.
Next to the casino floor at the Fountain of Youth is a stadiumsized mall that houses nothing but shops selling cure-related merchandise. You can get your pick of commemorative T-shirts (I’M HOT . . . AND I’M STAYING THAT WAY is a popular choice), steel cookware with a lifetime warranty, go-tox clinics for older postmortals, safes, laser vision correction, and thirty-year tattoos. There are no wedding parlors, and I didn’t see a single bachelor party the entire weekend. Just one cure party after another.
On our last day, there was a bomb threat in our section of the hotel. They evacuated our rooms and made us wait outside, on the Strip. It was the only time during our trip that I was reminded of 7/3/19, and it unnerved me. The manager assured us that they deal with these threats all the time, which only served to worry me more. As we waited on the Strip, I saw a group of men pass by on the opposite side of the street. They stopped, looked at the hotel, whispered some things to one another, and then kept walking. As they did, I saw one of them wave to the building, as if to say goodbye. I ran to alert a nearby officer, who seemed unconcerned. The men turned the corner. One of them saw me talking to the cop and smirked. He held up his hands and gave me the death symbol: a cupped left hand pressed against his straight right hand, forming a crude D .
After that, I didn’t relax until we were on the plane heading back to LaGuardia. The flight was delayed for three hours due to traffic on the runway.
DATE MODIFIED:
11/15/2029, 3:02 P.M.
A Day in the Life of a Terra Troll
After my experience outside the Fountain of Youth, I came across this anonymous blog posting by someone who claimed to work at the resort.
Contrary to what hotel officials say publicly, the FOY has been attacked by trolls on numerous occasions.
These aren’t just simple bomb threats, designed to keep us running around in
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