Before I do anything, I want to make sure that a little something doesn't get lost in what is likely to be the longest blog post in the history of the world. $6299. THAT is how much was raised at Crazy Scary last night.
$6299.
That's going to go a long way in helping to make a lot of kids happy.
I can't say thank you enough. It's just not possible. I'll say it again, though--THANK YOU. I especially want to thank everyone at ScareHouse who worked their tails off to make sure the event went off without a hitch. Scott, Barb, and Wayne (the owners) will forever have a special place in my heart because they are mind-blowingly generous and kind and wonderful. And a little evil. More about that in a bit, though.
So.
Crazy Scary.
I walked into ScareHouse completely terrified that I was going to lose the little bet. And I do mean TERRIFIED. The dress OF COURSE was hung in a completely in-the-middle-of-the-way spot, thereby ensuring that no matter where I turned, THERE IT WAS. It looked like our bedroom comforter and a curtain had gotten into a fight, wrapped themselves around a hula hoop, and then threw up some glitter.
I was willing to do anything to not wear it. ANYTHING.
I knew I was winning in the votes at that point, but I had zero faith that la familia JanePitt would stay far enough away to prevent them from buying 20 tickets and tipping the scales. I figured Ginny might have even paid them to wait until the 11th hour to do it, just to make sure I was thoroughly tortured.
As 8:00 drew close, I managed to run into Scott, who apparently could see that I was about to nervous puke all over his pretty haunted attraction, because he told me that he had just checked tickets and I was WAY ahead. I very literally did a little dance of joy right there. Imagine the dance of joy an American Idol contestant would do if Ryan Seacrest whispered that they were going to win during the first commercial break of the finale--a full twenty commercial breaks before the real results were announced. It was like that.
Then the time arrived for the official announcement. I stood there all sorts of cocky and stoked because I already knew the outcome. Then, in true Ryan Seacrest fashion, Scott decided to torture me with words. He went into this looooong "It was close and the results were surprising and the walk-ups determined it and blah, blah, blah." If looks could kill, he would have fallen over in those long moments because OMG JUST SAY IT ALREADY.
I won.
WOOOOOOO! That giant princess-dress-shaped weight lifted off my shoulders and I was all, "ALL RIGHT! Let's go walk though the haunt! BAM!" I wanted to go hang out all over the haunt because while I had seen everything as it was being set up over the summer, I had never seen it with the lighting and sounds and actors all in place. The place looks like something some Disney Imagineers would put together after watching a few dozen horror flicks and drinking a few cases of heavy liquor. It's incredibly detailed, amazingly thorough, insanely elaborate, and very much so twisted. I LOVE IT. (That is EXACTLY how I ended up in that awful dress situation, btw. Never tell Scott that you aren't afraid of his haunt. NEVER.)
As I watched Ginny get wired up for sound so she could run through the haunt by herself, I grinned like a moron. A moron because two seconds later, Barb, she with the face of an angel, reminded me that she is just as twisted and evil as the rest of them.
Wait. You have to see how sweet Barb looks.
Photo by V_Rock--That's Scott and me in the back and Barb up front.Doesn't she look like an angel dipped in sugar and wrapped in sweetness? IT'S A LIE. Barb then chimed in and was all, "So, how much would you all pay to see Michelle get in the dress?" AND OMG.
OMG.
In an instant, I went from winning American Idol to standing there and finding out that "winning" actually meant I was going to have to spend the rest of my life licking lint off of Simon's black t-shirts. People were digging in their pockets and rummaging in purses and GAH. GAH. GAH. I think I may mostly blame Mikey from 96.1 KISS for starting the whole mob scene because he stood there with a fistful of singles all lunged way up in the clouds egging everybody else on.
You guys, he's really tall. See:
Photo by v_rock
I'm 5' 8" and he makes me look like Midget Smurf. So, when he starts bellowing, "I've got $20" and waves a stack of singles around (Which, btw, wth? Do you always have that many singles handy, Mike? Why? Hmmm?), everyone in the tri-state area is going to notice.
Oh, they noticed.
Barb passed around a cauldron (OF COURSE) and collected $160. I had no choice but to put on the dress.
To that I say, STABSTABSTABSTABSTAB. I don't know exactly who should be my victim, but I want one.
So while Ginny ran (and I do mean RAN) through the haunt by herself, I was sulking in the corner, practically weeping as a really-sweet-and-totally-awesome-and-not-at-all-deserving-of-my-wrath ScareHouse peep slathered makeup on my face.
I missed this:
SADFACE.
But. BUT! The one saving grace of the whole stupid mess I got myself into was that since I had actually won, I figured it was only fair that we skip over the whole Pretty Princess thing and head straight to Queen status. Drag Queen status, to be exact.
Wouldn't it be really nice if there were a photo of me dressed like a drag queen right here? TOO BAD. It's all over the internet. Go find it, if you want. I'm not enabling you and your evilness.
So glitter and makeup and general hideousness threw up all over my face, I put on a dress that only a drag queen could look good wearing, and Ginny ran through the haunt all by her lonesome self.
Waaaah. Waaaaaah. Waaaaah.
She'll tell you it was awful and all of that, but the second I ripped that dress off, I dragged her butt through the haunt again. She didn't even bother to put up a fight, which I think means that she knew that if she had opened her eyes for a split second while she sprinted through by herself, she might have liked it.
I'm pretty sure she liked it a lot.
It's hard not to, to be honest. Now that I've gone through with everything up and running, LOVE LOVE LOVE.
But not while dressed like a drag queen.
Unless it means we get to raise $6299 for kids. Then AND ONLY THEN, I might be willing to do it again.
Photo by JMWander. Edited by Pumpkin Head.