“If I’d been your first that night, Brie, then tonight, I’d still be the only guy whose name ever left your lips when you come.” I kiss her quick and hard on the lips. “While I plan to be the last, I’ll have to live with the knowledge there were others at one point. I don’t like it, but I’ll live with it.”
She clears her throat. “The last. Got it. Okay. Cool. So, um, what are we doing again?”
“I’ve got a plan,” I say.
“You have a plan to find hole 18 on a golf courseandtwo people leaving a chapel who were just married with the time we have left?”
“I do.” I chuckle.
“Well, hell Wyatt, I’ll even be the one to get married if it secures the win,” Brie says.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” I glance at the timer. The seconds keep ticking away, I hope I’m right about this. We make it on the tram just as the doors close. It’s a quick ride to the next stop. I grab her hand and pull her along behind me, weaving through the crowd also getting off the tram and through the station into the hotel. I search for the entrance to the Twilight Zone miniature golf course, which is supposed to be on this level. And adjacent to the World’s Only Sci-Fi Wedding Chapel. Their moniker, not mine.
Inside is a veritable cacophony of bright colors and black lights, monsters and gore, aliens, and other-worldly things. The neon lights blur into a mesmerizing kaleidoscope around us.
“Whoa, this is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.” She slows, her eyes filled with wonder as she takes in the space-themed place. It’s noisy, but there’s an undeniable magic in the air as if the universe itself is rooting for us in this wild endeavor.
Or I’m really stoned.
Giant eyeballs on Cyclops' heads track us as we make our way through the course. Two-headed monsters, space beings, and an alien air force. So far, it seems more Sci-Fi than Twilight Zone, not that I’ve seen a lot of episodes. Until we reach Talky Becky. That one I’ve seen. And talking dolls freak me the fuck out.
I shudder visibly when we see her. Practically life-sized, sitting on her overgrown doll-like throne, smiling maniacally down at us. Reaching one of her weird little real-but-not-real hands out toward us like we’re supposed to take it and go somewhere with her.
I walk faster, determined to get by her as quickly as possible.
“You okay?” Bristol asks.
“I don’t like talking dolls.”
“It’s not real.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s weird. The whole concept is weird. My sister Lauren had a doll that talked. You can’t trust those things. And then don’t even get me started on the Chucky Doll.”
“What’s the Chucky Doll?”
“How can you not know the Chucky Doll?”
She shrugs.
“Oh sweetheart, the things I plan to show you.” I meant horror flicks, but as the words come out of my mouth, the whole thing turns sexual, and my dick twitches in agreement.
“It sounds dirty when you say it like that,” Bristol says.
“It is.” I grin and squeeze her hand. “But Chucky, he’s this horrible thing that comes to life and kills his entire family. Or else he’s a kid who turns into a doll and kills his whole family. Either way, the family is dead. If I remember correctly, he chopped them up into little pieces, and it’s downright horrifying.” I shudder again.
“Well, I’m not afraid of Becky or Chucky,” Brie says bravely. “So, if we have a killer doll coming after us at any point tonight, I will save you from it. Okay?”
“Perfect.”
We reach hole eighteen with about fifteen minutes to go. We take a selfie with the sign and send it in, then wait for the updated standings.
Standings:
1. Blake and Taylor
2. Tied: Wyatt and Bristol, Pete and Amy
“How the hell did they catch up so fast?” I mutter aloud. “We have to hurry. Let’s go.”
