Dracula sure knows how to swing a whip, doesn’t he? I used to have a whip I played with as a kid. Probably around the time the first Castlevania game came out. My grandparents bought the whip for me at a Cherokee Indian Reservation close to Gatlinburg, Tennessee. We were headed to the Smoky Mountains, but I wanted to go to Dollywood.
Sometimes I’d tie it to a tree branch and swing around, but I also practiced cracking the whip on dandelions. It was a dandelion Game of Thrones out there in my front yard. I’d also burn them to cinders with sparklers on the 4th of July. Life for dandelions was short and brutal around my house.
I still made wishes on them, though. Whatever governing body regulates wishes made on dandelions probably didn’t like the way I was going about it, but rules are rules. Once all the seeds are off the head, your wish has officially been submitted. Besides, I was a kid with a whip made by an official Cherokee Indian, not to mention I was told by my grandfather that I had 1/16th Cherokee blood running through my veins. Was I supposed to just blow on the dandelions like a white man?
Then again, despite King Joffreying every dandelion in my neighborhood, my wish to go to Dollywood was never granted. Guess I should have just blown on them after all.
Maybe that’s why Dracula’s being such a jerk—he never got to go to the Disneyworld of the South. Somebody should think about taking him to Dollywood’s Splash Country water park. He might stop whipping everybody’s heads off and burning them to cinders.
Although, the Splash Country water slides might count as holy water. Dollywood is home to the Southern Gospel Museum and Hall of Fame. Does singing hymns in the proximity of a water slide make it suitable for baptism? That would make it more efficient to baptize babies. Send those babies on down—the Lord doesn’t have all day!
Anyway, you’re probably safe to ride, Dracula. Just don’t bite Kenny Rogers in the wave pool.
On consoles Winter 2013.