Internal Operations Log from an Extremely Exclusive Water Resort
Day 69:
I can only show the video of Billy MacFarland being sucked into the Rapid Rivers pump so many times. I don’t care if baggy trunks are in style, if we can’t see that banana in its rightful hammock, it’s Access Denied.
Day 70:
Why is it so hard to refill the Mood Mist dispenser? The checkbox on the closing plan says “Refill Mood Mist or Die.” If Mrs. Jenkins says “the truffle risotto is overpriced” one more time, I’m going to swan dive off the top of Neptune’s Revenge. We need them like zombies, hungry but too dead to complain.
Day 71:
I get that I didn’t specify to use the low dose Mood Mist, but really? It’s not rocket science. Mrs. Jenkins is a regular. Just enough mist to get them in the Skin Rejuvenator, we can’t keep the stem cells forever.
Day 73:
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Great job last week team! As a reminder, clients have to pay extra for rides. I know they don’t want to walk, but firemen carrying them to the top of each ride is too risky. To protect our carry crew, we will be implementing surge pricing. Please remind guests that the base cost is $200 per ride not including tip. And for the last time, no, we don’t take crypto.
Day 80:
For fucks sake Trevor, if you can’t stand in the pool then don’t work the sector! We’re screwed If the guests find out we don’t have trained lifeguards. Do you know how many of them livestream? All of them Trevor! Fucking all of them! If finding a pool that fits your 6ft lanky ass is too difficult, just drop your whistle and mist mask off at the end of the day.
Day 89:
Mrs. Jenkins café reviews surfaced today; it’s a disaster. She wants something spectacular that screams “you wish you could be having this right now.”
It’s with no warning I present $50 Truffle Kombucha shots. A combination of black truffle, lobster bisque, and the mother strain. On a completely unrelated note, if someone can help me find the leftover truffle dust, I would be most appreciative.
Day 100:
Who’s the maggot? I want to know! I need names! The ride is called Tsunami Pool, not Wave Pool. We can’t have beach waves during the crescendo. If we aren’t taking guests to the edge of life, why would they ever come back? We need fifty footers! Teeth knocked out! A tasteful amount of blood!
Day 130:
Mrs. Jenkins is still too misted to drive home. Her family calls daily, worried the pediatric blood transfusion made her dementia worse. If they find out we’re stealing her transplanted organs and selling them to St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital we’re all getting life.
