The Impassioned River

by John

The sun glowed down in a particularly happy manner this morning, for it was not glowing down on any old thing, but upon what Agnes supposed was surely the happiest sight to be seen, the nearlywed Agnes and Edmund. She tightened her grip on Edmund’s hand, and positively radiated joy. The Magic Kingdom of Disney sprawled out before them, a world full of dreams coming true and great photo opportunities. She could think of no better way to celebrate their hard-won victory than to blissfully waft about in such a place as this. She looked up at Edmund, the cleft on whose chin was deepened by a broad grin.

“Why are you grinning like that?” she asked him.

“Thinking of our wedding,” he said simply.

“But it’s not for another 8 hours,” she said, “Wasn’t that what we planned?”

“Oh,” he said, “It was. But somehow I managed to sweeten the plan.”

“But how could it possibly be better?” His grin broadened even more upon hearing this.

“Somehow I pulled a few strings and booked the ceremony inside the Disney Castle itself.”

“Oh, Edmund!” Cried Agnes, disbelievingly, “However did you manage that?”

“Let’s just say I’m much more resourceful since we found one another. Mildred was ever-so-stifling to my overly resourceful mind.”

“And Lucius was clipping my wings so I couldn’t outfly him! We’re so much better for each other.”

“Which is why we are to wed,” he said, “and until then we must occupy our time frolicking. Where shall we frolick first?”

“Why, Edmund, I know just the place!” And before his baritone voice could utter another word, she had him by the hand and was running off with it, compelling him to follow.

* * *

Very nearby, however, the sun did not seem to be shining down in a particularly happy manner at all. Its rays fell reluctantly upon two rather sullen people, who were standing perhaps ten yards from the dust cloud Agnes and Edmund left. The tall man, who smelled of musk, turned to the woman at his side and said,

“Did you hear them? Speaking so lightly of this whole affair?”

“Using our names, even!” spat Mildred venomously, “For all to hear and judge us just because we are evil.”

“But did you hear the worst part of all?” Lucius said, “They are going to be married today! In this very theme park!”

“No,” Mildred said suddenly and slowly, “My Edmund said he was planning on it. That does not mean it will happen.”

“Planning,” Lucius mused, “Planning, you say. Well… while it is still in the stage of planning, I suppose—”

“—It’s still subject to not happen if we have anything to say about it! I will have my Edmund back if it’s the last thing I do!”

She said this rather loudly, but none of the other tourists seem to take heed, as tourists spouting lines from obscure Disney movies was not so uncommon a happening in that day, though perhaps not so passionately as Mildred was shouting. Indeed, the nearest Classic Disney Character, Goofy, was eyeing them with suspicion, wary that they might begin to upstage him.

“Then we shall have to begin a bit of planning of our own,” Lucius declared, “I know my Agnes’ weaknesses.”

“And I know my Edmund’s’!” she cried, although she then passed into a moment of silence. She seemed to be pondering a weighty issue in her mind, when she suddenly said, “Oh, why didn’t I think of it before? He doesn’t swim! I know he doesn’t swim!”

“He can’t swim?” Lucius asked, incredulous.

“I don’t know if he can or not,” Mildred said distractedly, “All I know is that he doesn’t. I don’t think he approves. In any event, all we have to do is get him out of the way. Once he can’t protect Agnes, she will be an easy target.”

Lucius froze.

“I don’t know about easy,” he said carefully, “The only time we were ever assaulted on the street, she

* * *

brought down all of our attackers within five seconds,” Agnes laughed, as they waited in the line for Space Mountain, “It was no challenge, really! Why, after years of my dakentaijutsu training, it was hardly a thing. Nothing but a series of well-timed roundhouse kicks. It is wonderful I was able to practice like that whilst Lucius was courting me. I hardly ever got to do a thing like that in those days.” She looked at the ground as she said this, her golden locks filling most of her line of sight. She suddenly grew very quiet, and Edmund noticed her eyes moistening, as his senses had grown very well-attuned to that sort of thing.

“Agnes,” he said tenderly, “Don’t let the past haunt you so. Someone with locks as golden and long as yours shouldn’t ever dwell too much on poor character judgments made in the past. Why, I don’t suppose they’d call it progress if we were always at one hundred percent.”

“Oh, Edmund,” she said, her voice breaking, “There really were too many ideas in what you said for me to register exactly what you’re trying to tell me, but it’s comforting all the same. Oh, enough of the past, when there is such a wonderful future up ahead!”

“Of course, Agnes,” Edmund crooned, “We shall be married and, appropriately, we will live happily ever after, with so many new adventures to have and dakentaijutsu to perform on assaulters and children to rear.”

“Why, Edmund!” Cried Agnes, “You practice dakentaijutsu, too? I never knew!”

“I thought all real men knew dakentaijutsu!” He exclaimed, “Why, doesn’t Lucius?” She laughed.

“Well, to give you an idea, the night we were attacked, after I broke their legs, I found him

* * *

certainly not curled into a fetal position in the corner! What slander is this?” demanded Lucius.

“It’s just the rumor that’s circulating, Lucius,” Mildred said, “You needn’t be so touchy.”

“Well, I wasn’t,” he said again, his lip quivering firmly.

“Fine.”

They sat in silence for a few more moments. A little child nearly spilled her ice cream on the ground in front of them, but another classic Disney character, Pluto, dashed to the earth in time to catch the icy ball and deliver it back on the child’s cone. Both were pleased. A bird passed overhead, its loud tweet forming a noticeable Doppler effect.

“So,” said Mildred, “We ought to have an actual plan of some kind if we intend to prevent this wedding from happening.”

“We ought to.”

Two adorable squirrels darted across the grassy square they sat in, followed by two smiling Disney security men running with giant nets. Solar rays aimed at them were blocked by a large tree which stood behind them, causing large-tree-shaped area of significantly less-bright ground to appear, within which Mildred and Lucius stood.

“Then,” said Mildred, “Let us invent one.”

“Let us,” Lucius concurred.

Mildred, by the way, was dressed in a black satin blouse which was abundant in lace and ribbon. This over a modest black skirt which was fashionably tattered at the hem, and knee-length motorcyclist boots. She radiated exactly what she intended to radiate. And it wasn’t safety. But it wasn’t tacky either. Her features were drawn in a look that was intensely

“I have it!” cried Lucius of a sudden.

startled.

“Have what?” she asked, recovering.

“A plan!”

* * *

“I must say,” Edmund said abruptly as they approached the cheerful toots and swirls of It’s A Small World After All, “I don’t like the looks of this?”

“What’s not to like?” asked Agnes incredulously, pointing out the exceedingly great joy of everything about the attraction.

“It’s all so suspiciously happy,” he said, “one cannot see this many smiles without something dark lurking beneath.”

“Beneath where?”

“Beneath,” he said simply, “Nevertheless, if it’s what you truly want, my Agnes, then let us go.”

“Oh, Edmund, of course it is what I want!” And they ran through the flowers, much to the initial anger of the gardeners, though this was cooled when they noticed how the flowers were not trampled by this happy couple, but how new ones sprung up from beneath their feet every stride they took. Eagerly they raced to the entrance to the river, which was easy enough as there was no line at that time (presumably the other tourists lacked dakentaijutsu skills and were still in line at Space Mountain). Within moments they were in the small boat, and it was moving, albeit slowly, down the small river-tunnel. As they moved forward, they were greeted by the swelling chorus.

It’s a small world after all,

Rang out the animatronics in adorable unison,

It’s a small, small world.

It’s a world of laughter,

It’s a world of tears,

It’s a world of hopes,

Suddenly the voices lost their child-like, innocent tones, and began deepening exponentially, like a record slowing,

Iiiiit’sss aaa wooooorrrrllldd oooooooooof ffffeeeeeeeeaaaaarrrrrrrrsssssss,

and they stopped altogether. The lights went completely out, winning a shriek from Agnes. The water was stilled and their boat was paralyzed.

“What’s the meaning of this?” cried Edmund, expecting answers from something. The lights came on again, this time much brighter. A man’s amplified voice rang out,

“Truly, this world is too small!”

“Why, it’s Lucius!” cried Agnes.

“Too small for the two of us,” cried Edmund, “What is it you want?”

“You, of course,” came a silky female voice. Edmund’s mouth fell agape.

“Mildred,” he uttered huskily, “How did you find us here?”

“It wasn’t hard: happy couples tend to advertise themselves a little too well,” she replied, “Especially ones with blogs who like to post their travel plans in bouts of ecstatic joy. But I digress: I’m afraid this happy couple won’t be happy much longer.”

“Nothing you can do can destroy our love!” Agnes cried out.

“It’s too small a world for that,” came Lucius’ voice, “so of the four of us, I think two will have to pass through it much faster than expected!”

“Good luck, Edmund!” Came Mildred’s voice, and the animatronics started up again, in triple-time.

There’ssomuchthatwesharethatitstimewe'reawareitsasmallworld

The water began churning at alarming speeds, soaking them thoroughly. Water sprayed up the walls, and the boat shot forward at wholly family-inappropriate speeds, rocking like a storm-tossed vessel whilst the animatronic dolls spun and flailed violently, occasionally losing hands or catching fire, being extinguished as the water sprayed them. Edmund and Agnes clung to each other frantically, yelling at the top of their lungs for help. Edmund shielded his face with one of his trembling hands. Agnes spared a glance up ahead, and her heart, without any pun intended on the part of the writer, sank. About ten yards ahead, the boat was going to take a sharp corner. She knew it could not make it. Not with them still inside.

“Brace yourself!” She shouted.

“Do what?” Edmund shouted back. She clung ever tighter, her muscles tensing and her heart pounding. “No really,” Edmund shouted again, “What did you—”

Impact.

For a stunned moment, Agnes was quite unconscious of anything. Recovering, she perceived she was underwater. It was significantly calmer down there, she thought. Darker, too. In fact, entirely too dark. Hadn’t the lights just been blaring? She let herself float, to orient herself a bit, and quickly discovered which direction was up. In that direction she swam, and in moments broke the surface.

The lights were dimmer. The river was flowing at a normal pace, and some five yards ahead was their boat, splintered and cracked, but still floating along, now outside their reach. The dolls had ceased their frantic dance and were now jubilating at a healthier pace. And Edmund –

“Oh my golly,” she cried aloud, “Where is Edmund?” She looked around, and he was not to be seen. He must have sunk, she concluded, and dived down to find him.

It would be instructive to the reader, no doubt, to pause at this time and contemplate the magnitude of the love between Agnes and Edmund. It is defined something like the love between Buttercup and Westley, to the effect that it cannot be tracked with a thousand bloodhounds or broken with a thousand swords, only that their particular love heals all wounds, and casts even the darkest shadow in golden light. As such, Agnes was easily able to spot Edmund at the bottom of the now-tranquil river, notwithstanding the relative darkness in which he was shrouded. Mustering all of her strength, she reached him and hoisted him to the surface, which surface they broke, both heaving for air. She supported his head on her shoulder so he could recover while she treaded water for the both of them.

“Thank you, Agnes,” Edmund said, somehow more handsome when wet, “I was beginning to panic.”

“Edmund!” cried Agnes, “You were conscious?”

“Of course, my dear.”

“Then why didn’t you swim to the surface?” she asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t swim.”

“You can’t swim?”

“I can swim all right, but I don’t.”

“Why don’t you?” she asked, beginning to tire treading so hard.

“I feel it is improper,” he said simply. Her legs were beginning to cramp.

“Improper?” she inquired breathlessly, struggling to respire, “How so?”

“Well,” he said coolly, “If man had been meant to swim, he’d have been born with fins like a fish has, and we eat fish. It doesn’t seem proper to me.”

“But Edmund,” she said, “I can’t tread water for both of us indefinitely!”

“I know,” he said, “Therefore I shall call for help and you shan’t have to. Here,” he said, pulling his cell phone from his pocket, and then tossing it back into the water. “Aha,” he said again, “It is waterlogged. That will never do.”

“Oh, Edmund,” gasped Agnes, “Whatever shall we do?”

“Well,” he said, “If I could just have a moment to think things through…” but as he spoke, another voice was heard. It was a man’s voice, but not Lucius’. It came from further up the chamber from which they had come. His voice echoed quite too much to understand what he said just yet, but he was getting nearer.

“Of course!” he exclaimed, “The other tourists on this ride will be able to help us! Normally the boats don’t ride at such a reckless pace, so we should not fear being rammed by them, and at such a calm speed we can ask for help!”

“Wait,” Agnes gargled as water began to enter into her mouth, “I can hear him now.” They both strained to hear the man’s words over the sound of Agnes’ struggling.

“Can you hear me now? Good. Can you hear me now? Good. Can you hear me now?”

“Good!” cried Edmund, “It’s the Verizon Wireless man!”

Within moments he was close enough to see them. Edmund wove to him in a friendly fashion whilst Agnes floundered.

“Can you hear me now? Good – I have some people trying to talk to me,” said the Verizon man, and he turned his attention to Edmund and Agnes, politely asking if he could be of service to them.

“You certainly can!” Edmund said, “As you see, we fell into the river and our cell phones have been waterlogged. Our wedding is shortly, and we have to get out and get cleaned up, and I don’t swim!”

“You can’t swim?” the Verizon man asked incredulously.

“Of course I can,” Edmund said, “I just don’t. Now, we need to reach someone who can help us out. Can I borrow your phone?”

“Better,” said the man, “Come on into the boat. It won’t tip over.” He kindly helped Edmund into the boat first, because he didn’t swim, and then helped in Agnes, who collapsed in exhaustion, albeit a happy one. They continued on their way through the ride, and over the din of the singing animatronics, Edmund told the Verizon man of what had happened, and how Lucius and Mildred would stop at nothing to ensure that Edmund and Agnes not be married that day.

“We desperately need to call for some sort of help,” he said, “The Disney park Security, or the police, or some form of protection.” To his surprise, the Verizon man laughed gaily.

“Oh, sir, that won’t be necessary,” he said mirthfully, “I think we pretty much can get the situation under control. So, what were the names of your exes, again?”

“Mildred and Lucius, respectively,” Edmund replied, confused. The man put the cell phone again to his ear.

“Can you hear me now? Good. Listen, sorry to hold you so long, but I have a situation.”

“Who are you talking to?” asked Edmund. The Verizon man looked at him strangely and said, with a twinkle in his eye,

“Chuck Norris.”

* * *

Deep in one of the turrets of the Disney castle, an unwelcome voice was heard.

“Quickly, quickly, quickly!” repeated Lucius to Mildred as she stacked more dynamite in the table in the turret room where the wedding was to be held.

“But not quickly enough,” came an all-too familiar voice from the mouth of the hall. Lucius and Mildred looked up, agape.

“But I didn’t hear you come in,” stammered Mildred.

“That’s not surprising,” Chuck Norris said.

* * *

Some hundred or so yards above the Disney castle, the Disney Vultures noticed a tendril of smoke coming from one of the turrets which smelled distinctly of fear. They caught one another’s eye, and, with grinning beaks, swooped down and began circling overhead.

* * *

“And with the loveable power vested in me by generations of tradition and old American past times,” said the man dressed as the loveable Mickey, “I now pronounce you man and wife.” There rose up a cheer from all around them, and Edmund moved in for the kiss, which S. Morgenstern has already described in great depth in his work.

“You may kiss the bride,” added Mickey awkwardly. A series of fireworks cracked and boomed overhead, filling the room with brilliant greens and reds and blues and yellows, and by that point the dynamite had been safely removed by the hazard crew, so the fireworks were pretty much the extent of it. The cake was cut and presumably distributed, and the string quartet began to play a minuet. Edmund took Agnes by the hand and they walked to the middle of the dance floor, inaugurating happily ever after with a dance.

Meanwhile Chuck Norris continued beating people up.