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Old 10-11-2018, 03:27 PM
LoudPop LoudPop is offline
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Default Circus Circus
My GF and I went to Las Vegas recently and stopped in Circus Circus. We played the Water Gun Balloon Pop Game and she won! I love that game...nice loud balloon pops! It wasn't busy (went during the afternoon) but I did see two couples all playing and a lady won that round. Since it wasn't busy you could hear the starting bell ring followed by the balloon popping from all around the midway.

Went there as a kid and was scared to death of all the balloons popping...they were so loud and scary to me back then. Of course, I love it now.
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Old 18-11-2018, 09:23 AM
LoonerEclipse LoonerEclipse is offline
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Default Re: Circus Circus
I remember going to Circus Circus often as a kid. Had a few birthday parties there. (Minnesota) They didn't have a water gun balloon game. They did have a helium balloon machine that blew it up in front of you when you put tokens in.
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Old 04-12-2018, 02:42 PM
Kbeecher Kbeecher is offline
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Default Re: Circus Circus
What if you could experience what it would be like to BE the balloon your girlfriend popped in this game? Here is a story I wrote years ago based on this scenario.
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As I lay in bed, steadily drifting towards sleep, my thoughts were of the exciting events of the day that was ending. I had attended our city's annual "Spring Festival", a time to enjoy the togetherness our community enjoys. There had been a parade, hundreds of booths offering every kind of food you could imagine, and, oh yes, the carnival. As I turned in bed slightly, feeling the warmth of the flannel sheets glide past my legs, thoughts of the many hundreds of balloons I had seen at the carnival filled my mind, many meeting their demise at the hands of very attractive women. There was the arch of blue and white balloons, suspended above the stage where various groups had performed. Near the end of the event, after most had left the fairgrounds and cleanup had commenced, I had watched in amazement as the cheerleaders from the local high school put on a show, for no intended audience, that I will never forget. The six girls had split into two groups of three, each positioned at one of the poles to which the strand was attached. One girl at each end pulled the arch down far enough in order for her to lift her leg over it, then straddle the balloons that comprised it. Finally, these two walked towards each other, guiding each group of balloons under their legs, until they met near the middle of the stage. One by one, at each end, the other four girls mounted the arch of balloons, and spaced themselves evenly along its length to make the strand float flat across the stage at the level of their crotches. Each was giggling as they walked awkwardly, dressed in a blue cheerleader's sweater on which the emblem of the school was sewn, a short white skirt, white socks, and blue Keds. On the signal "Go!" shouted by the brunette just to the right of center over the arch, the relative quite that had existed was replaced with the sound of laughing girls and popping balloons. I noticed the short blonde to the far left as she repeatedly dug her nails into the balloons that were in front of her, each deforming as it was squeezed until it burst as her nails penetrated its skin. The red head next to her was repeatedly falling backwards onto the balloons behind her, popping two to three balloons with each fall, all the while with a look of determination on her face. At one point, one white balloon survived her assault and became detached from the strand. It began to drift upward towards freedom, carried by the helium inside it. This escape was short-lived however, as the cheerleader to her immediate right caught sight of the balloon's intentions, and grabbed it before it left her reach. She hugged it close to her chest, squeezing the balloon until its severely distended neck was visible emerging from under her arms just before it burst into small shreds of latex that fell to her feet. With that, this cheerleader with light brown hair continued using her sharp nails to reduce the arch of doomed balloons in front of her to the rapidly accumulating pile of tattered pieces that lay on the stage. Whether by squeezing, sitting, or stomping, the almost two hundred balloons that had made the beautiful arch over the stage were destroyed in a period of four minutes. After the last balloon had been burst, the six cheerleaders collapsed among the scraps of latex beneath them, laughing and giving each other the high five as they celebrated their efficiency. Soon thereafter, the stage was swept and the show was over. How I wished I could have a video tape of that four minute session!

As I began to lose consciousness while listening to the crickets and frogs outside my window, I continued to think of the exciting day of balloon popping I had witnessed. There were the dart boards, the balloon stomp, and that game where you shoot....water into a clown's.......mouth to make the............balloon inflate unt.......................I was asleep.

What seemed like seconds later, I was awakened by the sound of a bell ringing, followed by a hissing sound, then the unmistakable sound of a balloon bursting from overinflation. Where was I? I could see nothing as my surroundings were completely dark. I no longer heard the sound of crickets and frogs, but faint sounds of a crowd of people and carnival music. I was no longer warm and comfortable among the sheets of my bed. Instead, I found myself in a rather cool environment, surrounded on all sides by plastic, or was it latex? At this point, I noticed the smell of my environment - not the slight pine smell that filled my room, but the rubbery smell of a freshly opened bag of balloons. I intended to rise from my position in order to investigate my situation, but found myself unable to move. Where were my legs? My arms? I felt hollow and empty, as if the skin of the front of my body was touching that of my back. My oval-shaped body tapered down to a short hollow tube where I expected my legs to be, and opened freely into my environment. At that end, I could feel that my "skin" was tightly rolled back on itself. How could this be? I was a balloon, among many other uninflated balloons!

Again the bell sounded, followed by about 10 seconds of hissing, then another loud *BANG*. Where was I in relation to this sound? What was in store for me? A voice sounded, like that of a young woman, "Tiffany, could you get me another bag of balloons please?" The reply, "Sure Jenn....just a second," came from a similarly feminine voice. Suddenly there was light as what appeared to be the door of the cupboard in which we were stored slid open. Before I could assess my position, I saw a hand about three times my size reach around the bag in which I was contained, then lift us out of the box where about twelve to fifteen similar bags of balloons remained. With a slight thud, we were pitched onto a counter just above the cupboard. "Here you go Jenn", Tiffany said. "Oh thanks, just a few more rounds and I will need them," Jenn replied. I could not see Tiffany as other balloons in the bag obscured my view. I was able to see, through the clear plastic bag in which I resided, the crowds of people who walked by the booth in which I found myself with these two women. Some seemed interested about the events taking place within the bounds of our walls, while others passed by without so much as a glance. There was a booth just across the way with a dart board. Hundreds of small inflated balloons were tacked to the board among many pieces of broken balloons that had not fallen to the floor below. The man inside the booth repeatedly shouted, "Bust one and you win!." Children, accompanied by their parents, would excitedly place their money before the carnival man and grip the dart he gave them. With a throw that seemed to have no particular aim, the child would send the dart sailing towards the board, usually striking and popping an unfortunate balloon who was in its way. With this, the parents would congratulate their child and walk away with the small prize they were offered. As the happy family departed, the carnival man would inflate another doomed balloon to replace its fallen comrade.

I looked down the long silver-colored counter on which we rested, positioned at the front of the booth. I noticed what appeared to black metal guns sticking out of its surface at regular intervals - obviously not real guns, but toy replicas of pistols. One was laying on its side, and seemed to have a plastic hose attached to its base that disappeared into the counter below. As I looked up at the side wall of the booth, I could see the words "Water Balloon Race - 50 Cents" printed in large black letters on the otherwise yellow wall. Above these words, cheap looking stuffed animals of various sizes were suspended. Due to my position in the bag of balloons, I could see only half of the back wall of the booth which stood about five feet behind the counter on which the pistols and I were located. About half way up this wall, at the same level as the counter on which I sat, a shelf was mounted that seemed to run across the entire length of the wall. On this shelf, a clown head was positioned directly in front of each of the pistols on the front counter. The clown heads appeared to be molded out of fiberglass, then painted with bright colors to match the face of a clown you might see at a circus. Each featured a hollow, widely opened mouth surrounded by cherry red lips, a white face, and various colors to accent it eyes, nose, hair, and the hat it wore. Just behind each clown head was a silver metal tube that rose straight out of the shelf about six inches. At the end of each tube, a balloon was mounted, its neck secured in place by some sort of metal attachment that seemed to move up and down the tube. The back wall of the booth was painted yellow, and featured a large framed mirrored sign that read "Water Balloon Race." Scraps of wet latex, obviously from burst balloons, stuck to the surface of the back wall behind each clown head.

My attention now turned to Jenn, who walked from clown head to clown head, adjusting something behind its hat. She was a girl of about twenty years with a very attractive face, shoulder length brown hair, and a thin yet athletic looking figure. She wore a white t-shirt decorated with silk-screened flowers and the words "Spring Festival" printed in red. A pair of tight blue shorts hugged her nicely shaped ass leaving her tanned legs exposed. Her feet were covered by white athletic socks that had been pushed down to her ankles, and worn-out white Nike crosstrainers. Next to her shoes were the remains of what seemed like hundreds of burst balloons. Some were large chunks of solid rubber, others were large chunks of shredded rubber like that which often results when a balloon is burst by overinflation, and many were smaller thin pieces. As she made her way to each of the clown heads, walking between the front counter and the back wall, I noticed that some of the latex pieces on the floor stuck to the well scuffed, smooth rubber soles of her sneakers.

Looking at myself, I noticed the smooth thin yellow latex that made my "skin". All around me were orange, green, blue, red, and yellow balloons squished together in the clear plastic bag with the words "1 gross 11-inch latex balloons" printed on its front with various safety warnings and manufacturing information. How could this be happening? Surely I was not like all of the other balloons in this bag. I looked at the orange balloon next to me. Could it see, hear, smell, feel? I had no way to move, no way to talk. Would these girls see me as different, or would parts of my broken body soon end up on the bottom of Jenn's sneaker?

The sound of Tiffany's voice stirred me from my thoughts. "Come on folks, step right up.......shoot the water in the clowns mouth and pop the balloon......only fifty cents......the more that play, the bigger the prize!" I was still unable to see her, but she obviously had an effect on the crowd in front of the booth. Soon, there was a group of twenty people surrounding the area in front of the counter, each eagerly rummaging for coins in their pockets. After a minute, six males and four females of all ages were seated on stools in front of the counter, each gripping a toy pistol and taking aim at the clown's mouth that was in front of them. Jenn walked in front of each gun, collecting the money and flipping the switch behind the counter that would activate the gun when the game started. Tiffany spoke, "OK folks, at the sound of the bell, shoot the water into the clowns mouth to inflate your balloon....the first one to pop their balloon wins." Each of the participants had a look of concentration on their faces, waiting for the sound of the bell. *RING*. Almost instantly, water began to shoot out of the ends of each of the activated pistols. The participants adjusted their aim to guide the stream into the clown's mouth. As the water hit its target, the hissing sound began. The balloons behind the clown heads sprung erect and then began inflating. The more accurate the participant's aim was, the faster his or her balloon inflated. One small girl sitting halfway down the counter was shooting completely to the side of the clown's head. Her green balloon remained very small, and I knew it would be spared during this round. By now, many of the other balloons were almost completely inflated, their color becoming lighter and lighter, their necks beginning to distend near the attachment that kept them secured to the metal tube. A second later, the red balloon second from the far wall popped with a loud *BANG*, its body disintegrating into at least five pieces that littered the shelf and the back of the clown's head. Immediately, the stream of water from each gun ceased and the surviving balloons began deflating. The teenage boy that was the winner smiled while his girlfriend congratulated him with a hug, then she began the careful process of selecting the stuffed animal she would claim as her prize. The other participants got up from their seats as the surviving balloons reached their deflated states, now wrinkled and severely stretched from their original size. Jenn walked over to the pipe on which the slaughtered red balloon had been mounted, and pulled down on the metal attachment that had secured the balloon in place. As it rolled down the pipe, the neck and an attached shred of the body of the balloon were revealed. Jenn pulled the piece of rubber from the metal tube, and tossed it on the shelf next to the clown's head. From a trough attached to the back of the front counter, she retrieved a green balloon which she placed on the pipe and secured it in place by rolling the metal attachment over its neck. By this time, all twelve seats were occupied by new participants. Tiffany explained the directions, Jenn collected the money, and the bell rang again. This time, it was an orange balloon three guns down from my end that met its end. The older gentleman that won showed little expression, yet his son was excited as Jenn handed him one of the larger stuffed animals. A yellow balloon replaced the empty position after this round, its never-inflated body much smaller than the now stretched and wrinkled green balloon that had just survived its first round of inflation at the previous winning position.

The area in front of the booth cleared somewhat, with a few people hanging around just to watch the events inside, not seeming interested in actually playing the game. As she realized that her supply of balloons had been exhausted, Jenn turned and approached the bag of balloons in which I resided. She reached for us, tore open the top of the bag, and walked towards the center of the counter. Suddenly, I was falling in a mass of balloons towards the trough below as she had inverted the bag. I emerged, and fell on top of the pile of balloons that came before me. Others followed, and landed on top of me. As it emptied, Jenn threw the plastic bag in the trash under the counter and turned her attention back to myself and the other balloons that lay in front of her. She took her right hand, and swept it through us, spreading our ranks evenly along the length of the trough. In the shuffle, I ended up in front of gun number eight, as was labeled on the back wall above the clown's head. I was near the top of the pile of balloons in this area, a position I knew would ensure that I would be selected soon if the balloon in any of the nearby pistol positions was destroyed. Would Jenn notice me as special and spare me? Was I special?

Now I got my first look at Tiffany. She had short, sandy blonde hair that was cut just below her ears. Her face, accented with painted balloons on her cheeks, was thin and cutesy. I imagined she was not more than fifteen or sixteen. She wore the same white t-shirt as Jenn, and black jean shorts that accentuated her flat rear end. Her tanned legs ended in uncovered feet strapped into a pair of black Teva sandals. Tiffany sat on a tall stool near the side wall which had not been previously visible from my position within the bag. This wall was painted yellow like that on the opposite side, and had similar stuffed animals suspended from its surface. From my observations, it seemed like Jenn was doing most of the "hard labor" while Tiffany was in charge of enticing the carnival's visitors to play the game.

A half an hour passed during which ten games were played, and ten balloons with whom I had been packaged died. These winning positions were far enough away from my own that Jenn selected balloons some distance from me on either side to replace their broken bodies. I wondered what it would be like to burst like these balloons had. Would I pop into shreds, large chunks, or thin pieces. Who would pop me? A teenage boy winning a prize for his girlfriend, a dad winning a prize for his son?

The bell rang, the hissing started, and the balloons began inflating once again. I grew worried as the yellow balloon in position eight grew larger and larger, faster than any other. I soon realized that this was the balloon that had been placed in this position just before Jenn opened up the bag in which I had been contained. I knew well before the resounding *POP* that ensued that this would be its final inflation. Very small shreds of yellow rubber showered the back wall, sticking due to the droplets of water that had accumulated there. Jenn moved in to remove its neck from the grips of the metal tube attachment, and then turned to select another victim right in front of my position! Her left hand extended, appearing to come straight for me, yet grabbed another yellow balloon just to my side. She turned, quickly mounting this balloon on the tube behind the clown's head, and began to collect the change for the next race. As the trough was behind and below the level of the counter, I could hear but not see the man who continued to sit in position eight. He said, just before the bell rang again, "Another yellow one."

As the bell rang, and the hissing started again, I watched as the green balloon in position twelve appeared to be "winning the race" towards its death. Then, suddenly, it stopped inflating for just a moment as the stream of water fell of target to the side of the clown's mouth in front of it. Soon, I realized that the yellow balloon right in front of me was as full as any other. The other balloons to its side were at the same volume but had more stretch in them as they had been inflated a number of times before. Helplessly, I watched as position eight again was proclaimed the winner, and the yellow balloon the loser. It burst into two large chunks which fell to the floor among the sea of others. Jenn moved in, removing its neck from the tube, and then turned to face me to select the next balloon. I watched as her right hand extended quickly and came straight at me. This time, however, she did not veer off course. I felt her fingers as she pinched my body between them while turning to place me in position. As her hand moved down to stretch my neck over the metal tube that would inflate me, a voice sounded from behind. "Hey," the man said who was seated in position eight, "Not another yellow one....that was two in a row.......give me another color....too many of the same color is bad luck." As she turned toward the man, she looked at me for the first time while she rolled my body between her second and third finger. "Sorry," Jenn said, "To me a balloon is a balloon, no matter what color it is." With that, she reached down with the fingers of her left hand and grabbed the rolled-back portion of my neck. Then, she grabbed the opposite end of my body with her right hand, and stretched my body like a rubber band. She let go with her right hand, and I quickly shot back into the pile of balloons near the same position from which she had taken me originally. She grabbed a blue balloon, holding it by its neck and waving it back and forth. "Is this one OK for you, sir," she quipped. He nodded, and she quickly positioned the balloon in place. By this time, I was fairly convinced that I was not special in the eyes of the one girl who would seal my fate. It was only a matter of time before she would select me again with no complaint from the participant that would inflate me.

This time, the bell rang, the hissing started, the balloons began inflating, and the race wasn't even close. The blue balloon that had replaced me after my stay of execution swelled to an enormous size well before any other balloon. I heard the man sitting in front of the counter say, somewhere in the middle of the race, "No problem!" *BANG* I saw a small piece of blue latex fly into the air, but was puzzled as to where the rest of the balloon had disappeared. As Jenn moved in to remove its remains, my question was answered. Attached to its neck were long parallel strands of shredded rubber. Few had detached, giving it the look of one of those noisemakers you see at New Year's with the strands of confetti hanging off the end. While she tossed the tattered body aside, I couldn't help but think that I should now be in shreds, the blue balloon sitting intact where I was. I felt fortunate, however, for I had seen while Jenn was holding me the disheveled, dirty looking man who would have been responsible for my death. If I was going to be popped, which I was now sure I would be, I wanted it to be while a good looking female was at the controls of the gun.

After claiming his large stuffed animal, the man in position eight obviously got up to leave. Tiffany said, "Aren't you going to try again sir? You have popped three balloons, why don't you try popping that yellow balloon you said would jinx you?" What was she saying? I was horrified. Jenn spoke, "Yeah sir, I will load that balloon right up for you. Pop it just like you did the last one and you will walk away with the largest prize we have." She pointed to a rather awkward looking stuffed dog who was hanging from the ceiling. Fortunately, the man insisted that he must be on his way as the parade was starting, and he needed to meet his family. He promised he would be back to earn that ultimate prize.

The area around the booth seemed to clear quickly after the man announced the parade was starting. Tiffany continued to try and convince people to "Play a game on the way to the parade route" yet most walked by without acknowledging her solicitation. I noticed that Jenn had still not replaced the balloon in position eight. I wondered if she would remember that I had been spared and select me for the next round.

As business was not likely to return until after the parade, Jenn and Tiffany sat down at the side of the booth to enjoy the sack lunch they had brought from home. During this break, much of their conversation centered around "how loud the bangs were, how many "dead" balloons were laying around (they thought about 300), and how Tiffany would be laborer tomorrow while Jenn would entice people to play the game.

After about an hour and a half, without much warning, Tiffany said, "Here they come!!" Jenn jumped up from her seat to take position as Tiffany began heckling the crowd. Jenn scanned her environment and realized that position eight was missing a balloon. She turned towards the trough of balloons some distance from myself and almost grabbed a balloon. Then she said, "Where's that yellow balloon that guy made me put back?" Tiffany said, "Who cares...anyway how are you going to know which one it was...there are lots of yellows there." Jenn walked over to me, picking me up with her fingers, and said "It's this guy, because he's the only yellow balloon near position eight.....back to the action you go little guy." Tiffany said, "Geez Jenn....that's pretty vicious....what did that balloon ever do to you?"

This was it. I knew I was not going to return to the trough again. Jenn turned toward the clown's mouth and put the tips of both of her index fingers into the end of my neck. Now partially inside my body, her fingers moved apart, stretching me wider so she could mount me on the metal tube below. I felt the tube slide inside me, then Jenn withdrew her fingers as my latex neck snapped tight onto the cold metal. Her right hand reached for the attachment below, lifting it upwards. As it moved, I felt a hard plastic roller crush my neck between it and the metal pipe. I would not escape. Jenn walked away, giggling about Tiffany's comment about her viciousness.

I looked around, and was horrified by what I saw. Below me were the remains of that shredded blue balloon. Countless other balloon scraps were laying on the shelf below, and I knew I would soon join them. The back of the clown's head in front of me was draped with a piece of red latex, over which strips of green, yellow, and orange rubber were haphazardly strewn. The wall behind me, now so close, had pieces of every color of balloon scattered on its surface. Now all I could do is wait, and watch for the person who would take home a prize for ripping me apart.

The area in front of the booth began to fill up again while Tiffany tried to convince people how easy it was to take home a large prize. People began to stop, interested at first, then committed to participating in the next round of the game. Five had been seated, yet no one in front of me. Then, she appeared. When I first laid eyes on her body, I forgot that I was a balloon for a moment and began wondering how any guy could muster up the courage to ask her out. What would I say to her? "Hi, I'm basically a pathetic dude who thinks your really sexy and I promise if you give me a chance I am not as pathetic as I look, or sound, or act....well......" She was 5'10'', about 25 years of age. Obviously her golden blonde hair was natural, extending down to her shoulders without a hint of curl. Her blue eyes were accented by thick eyelashes and neatly cut bangs across her forehead. Her face was long and thin, touched off by a cute nose and sexy lips. She was the type of girl who looked better without makeup, and she knew it. She wore a tight, low cut white blouse that accented her rounded, full breasts. Her denim blue jean cut-offs hugged her well-shaped butt and showed off her tan and muscular legs. Here feet were covered in Keds, no socks. A small golden ankle bracelet was visible on her left foot. She seemed interested in the game, yet showed no hint of preparing to play. Oh how I wanted her to sit at my position!

The girl she was with, a brunette who was also very attractive, began coaxing her to "Go for it!" Tiffany saw this interaction, and immediately pounced on the opportunity. "Come on girls, it's easy.....just pop a balloon and you get a prize." To my amazement, the blonde haired girl started to reach into her pocket for change! Where would she sit, I wondered. I saw that others were starting to accumulate, and would take the seat in front of me if this girl did not. As she began move forward, she headed straight for seat seven. I was devastated, watching as more ugly looking guys like the one before were approaching, looking for a seat. Just when I thought all was lost, her friend said, "Wait Heather, sit at seat eight. That yellow balloon has never been inflated, so it is tight and will pop easier than these balloons that have been inflated a few times before." Heather looked at me, changed direction, and sat in the seat in front of me. This was it. She was the one I hoped would fulfill what was bound to be my destiny.

Quickly, the rest of the seats filled. Jenn was collecting money and flipping on the switches to the pistols. Tiffany explained the rules. I looked at Heather. She had a slight smile on her face, and was focusing on the clown's mouth in front of her. Once, I caught her eye look at me for a brief second. There was a crowd of about fifteen spectators watching the impending game. Jenn finished her duties and moved to the side where she always stood to monitor the action. Now as the bell was about to ring, all of the participants focused on the clown's mouths while the spectators focused on the balloons. *RING* Heather hit the center of the target almost immediately, and for a brief second I heard a hiss. Then, I felt cold air rushing in through my neck, instantly filling my oval body, then beginning to stretch my rubber skin. The air continued, my latex body becoming larger and larger....thinner and thinner....tighter and tighter. The pressure inside me was not uncomfortable even as I filled towards full. What was concerning, and uncomfortable, was how tight my latex was becoming. Then, suddenly, for a brief second, the air stopped and then started again. Heather had slipped off target and in that brief second of time, the blue balloon next to me continued inflating. I could see spectators pointing to the blue balloon, predicting it would be the one to pop first. But how much more could I take? Now the pressure was rising rapidly as my tight latex body could expand no more. Soon I would burst.....very sooo... *BOOM* I thought I had popped as the noise was so loud, yet I soon found myself deflating, the cold air leaving the same way it came in. Scraps of blue rubber were everywhere, including on the side of my body. Heather smiled and began commenting to her friend that she had thought she would win. She wanted to try one more time as "That balloon must be very weak now as it almost popped....I'll pop it this time because I won't slip off target." I continued to deflate, and new that I would be wrinkled and about three times my pre-inflated size. Sure enough, as the last air left my body, my latex began to accumulate folds. I felt stretched out tremendously - my skin seemed so thin.

Jenn came by and replaced the blue balloon next to me with a green balloon. The previous winner, a girl of about sixteen years, was excited as she had a "Fresh, tight balloon" Heather turned to her and said, "Look at my fresh, tight balloon from last round." They both looked at my pitiful wrinkled state, with pieces of blue latex stuck to my side, and laughed. The money was collected, and Jenn stepped out of the way. Again, I looked at Heather just before the bell rang. This time, there was no smile, just sheer determination. The brunette standing just behind her cheered her on. *RING* Again, Heather hit the clown's mouth almost instantly. I was the first balloon to spring to life, the force sending the bits of blue latex that had been on my side to the shelf below. I rapidly expanded, feeling the now familiar sense that my latex was becoming tighter and thinner. Only one other balloon was near as large as I, a red balloon in position four. I kept looking at Heather.....she didn't flinch, staring at the clown's mouth. I felt my neck begin to distend, squeezing against the attachment that kept me from flying off the tube. The pressure began to rise - I knew I was fully inflated...there was no more room for the air that continued to rush inside me. One more look at the red balloon revealed that its neck was only just starting to inflate. I realized I was doomed, just a millisecond from bursting. I looked at Heather as I began to feel a ripping sensation all around my body. Still she looked straight ahead. The spectators were pointing at me, Heather's friend covered her ears in anticipation of my explosion. *BLAM* I felt tears develop in multiple places around my circumference, the air rushing out and ripping me apart. As the cloud of the explosion cleared, I could see at least seven pieces of me flying in all directions. The part of me from which I looked ended up plastered against the wall behind position eight. It was thin strip of yellow latex about two inches long. I could see other parts of me, some on the shelf below, one on the back of the clown's head, one attached to the neck that still remained on the tube below, and a large chunk with parallel shreds of rubber that ended up on the floor. I looked at a smiling Heather who gave a high five to her friend, saying "Just call me Balloon Buster!" She was awarded a cheap looking blue stuffed dog, which she hugged as she got up from the chair and turned around. She left, never looking back.

Jenn came by, removing the last piece of my body from the metal tube with a sharp tug. The piece of my neck snapped off, and she dropped it among the others below. As she walked away after replacing me with a red balloon, I noticed the shredded part of my body that had hit the floor sticking to the side and bottom of her sneaker.

I was beginning to wonder what would happen now just as the happy sound of the carnival music seemed to be replaced by an annoying buzzing sound. It grew louder and louder as my vision started to fade. I became aware of the feel of warm flannel next to me instead of the wet wall to which I had been plastered. Something was kicking at me. Suddenly, I opened my eyes to my bedroom, my alarm clock buzzing loudly while my dog attempted to coax me out of bed. I lay in bed a moment before rising, thinking of the previous night's dream. Had it been a nightmare, or a fantasy?
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Old 10-12-2018, 08:09 PM
Bubblyzzz Bubblyzzz is offline
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Default Re: Circus Circus
I love those games, but can't find them anymore.
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Old 11-12-2018, 03:26 PM
LoudPop LoudPop is offline
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Default Re: Circus Circus
Not as popular as when I was a kid. I prefer this balloon game over the dart balloon game! At least, the State Fair of Texas still has this game. They have four or five of these games scattered around the Midway. I love walking around the Midway and stopping to watch others with the balloon games. You always hear the starting bell, then the whoosh of air being blown, all the balloons standing at attention, then BANG! Sometimes, treated to a couple of BANGS if the balloons pop before the air is cut off. And the people watching is great...fearless, timid, jumpy, scared, laughing...you get to see all types of emotions.
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