We Like To Party!

O brother, where art thou? Come back to us Mr. Six! Come back! We miss you ever so much. We miss your tuxedo, your fancy shoes, your suspenders, the classy red bow tie. And, of course, those ever so stylish glasses.

Your weird, creepy face though? Not so much.

The summer is nigh and this country needs the kind of solace and respite only a withered, insane old, over-dressed man can provide. Speaking of which, why are you wearing a tuxedo in the summer bruh? And even more so, why are you wearing a full tuxedo at a WATER PARK, my dude? You don’t see me wearing jams and holding a boogie board at weddings. It’s called decorum.

Anyway, I like to imagine a typical muggy D.C. area summer’s morning with people melting on the sidewalk like ice cream cones in the sun, when all of a sudden, a dated, gaudy red-and-yellow bus pulls up and a snazzily-dressed homunculus jumps out and proceeds to have a Grand Mal seizure set to bad 90s music. Who wouldn’t enjoy that? Doesn’t that just scream summer?!

This is why we need you Mr. Six! You embody summertime fun. Also, there have recently been less maimings and accidental deaths* at Six Flags’ 31 amusement parks than one would expect. Less than 50 people have been precariously trapped on roller coasters for several spine-chilling hours over the last decade. Less then two dozen children and senior citizens have been violently tossed from various rides only to land on the hard, unyielding concrete in the same time frame. Only around ten or so guests and trainers have been attacked and/or gored by tigers, elephants and other safari inhabitants.

I mean, some park workers have been killed by roller coasters, but they knew what they signed up for, so nuts to them.

Compared to that waterside in Kansas that decapitated an 11-year-old boy, (I almost included a link, but decided against it, you’re welcome) Six Flags (Motto: Would You Rather Waste Your Money At Disney?)  is doing pretty well. Who wouldn’t want to be associated with such a great safety track record?

But you don’t have to take my word for it, just listen to these true responses when I went to a local playground to ask kids if they missed Mr. Six.

“Who?”

“No, I don’t want any of your candy mister!”

“Are you supposed to be here?”

“Baba Booey.”

“Help! Police!”

Ha ha ha! Those wacky kids. Truly, children are our future. But as you can tell, not only are you missed, but there’s an entire new generation of America’s youth that needs to be introduced to your manic and off-putting physical hijinks. You need to come back to inform and entertain (yeah, entertain is a pretty strong word for what you do, but I mean it!).

So until the glorious second (third?) coming of Chri…I mean Mr. Six, I’ll maintain a heart full of hope and keep the home fires burning.

HAVE A SUMMAH!

*Or were they…purposeful murders?