y.... you...you unlock this door with the key of imagination, beyond it is another dimension. A dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You've just crossed over into . . . The Twilight Zone.
Hollywood, 1939. Amidst the glitz and the glitter of a bustling young movie town at the height of its golden age, the Hollywood Tower Hotel was a star in its own right. A beacon for the show business elite. Now, something is about to happen that will change all that.
The time is now, on an evening very much like the one we have just witnessed. Tonight's story in The Twilight Zone is somewhat unique and calls for a different kind of introduction. This, as you may recognize, is a maintenance service elevator, still in operation, waiting for you. We invite you, if you dare, to step aboard because in tonight's episode you are the star. And this elevator travels directly to . . . The Twilight Zone.
this day in 1993, a truck bomb was detonated below the North Tower of
the World Trade Center in New York City. The bomb was intended to knock
the North Tower into the South Tower to destroy them both, but this did not occur.
The attack still killed six people, including a pregnant woman, and injured
over one thousand. The terrorist attack was planned by a group of
conspirators and masterminded by Ramzi Yousef. In 1994, four men were
convicted of carrying out the bombing and two more were convicted in 1997. The group
were funded by Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, who would go on to be the
principal co-ordinator behind the destruction of the Twin Towers on
September 11th 2001. The memorial to the victims of the 1993 attack was
destroyed on 9/11, but they are currently memorialised at the North Pool
of the National 9/11 Memorial, opened in 2011.
“It felt like an airplane hit the building” - eye-witness Bruce Pomper on the 1993 attack
“You unlock this door with the key of imagination, beyond it is another dimension. A dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You’re moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You have just crossed over into … The Twilight Zone."
The Twilight Zone Tower of Terror is located at the Disney Hollywood Studios in Walt Disney World Resort in Orlando, Florida. At the end of Sunset Boulevard looms the imposing Hollywood Tower Hotel. It’s 13 stories high (naturally) and is home to the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror a high speed thrill ride, that sends you falling down 13 stories.
Could you please write some Jackcrutchie at Disney or something? Maybe with dealing with his disability in such a crowded place?
Sorry it took so long to get to this. I’ve got one month left in this semester and it is killing me. Ugh. Anyway, to all other anons, I am getting to your stories. Please, just be a little patient. They’ll be here. Anyway, Disney. Let’s do this.
Crutchie took his place in the line to get churros. That’s all Katherine had told them to do: eat the churros at Disneyland. No rides she recommended, no shows. Just churros. Not that Crutchie would complain. It was a fabulous excuse for a cinnamon-sugary treat.
The line had queued up rather quickly and, though Crutchie wasn’t stationary for very long, the line certainly wasn’t moving faster than a crawl. Some large man in a sweat-stained gray shirt was demanding the employee give him a free churro because he had already bought the “goddamn tickets to the park and didn’t that come with a godforsaken churro?” Crutchie sighed. It would be a long day in the Happiest Place on Earth.
As he stood there and waited, soft whispers from behind him caught his attention. “No, it’s to get passes. You fake a limp or something and then they let you skip all the lines.”
“That’s stupid. Just stand in line with the rest of us.”
Crutchie bristled at the comments, but was saved from having to comment by the woman in front of him taking her churros and leaving. Forcing a smile onto his face, Crutchie greeted the worker kindly. “Can I get two churros, please?”
Behind him, Crutchie heard, “Bet he tries to get them for free, too.”
The worker must not have heard, because she simply smiled, handed him the churros, and accepted the money. Crutchie turned, glaring at the whisperers behind him. Both were teenagers, probably just barely in high school. “Just a pair of idiots,” Crutchie muttered to himself. He just needed to get back to where Jack was watching their stuff, eat the churros, and forget all of this had happened.
Just as he edged past the two teenagers, one of the boys stuck his foot out, catching the tip of Crutchie’s forearm crutch. Crutchie tried to maintain his balance with his other crutch, but the other boy kicked at that one as well. Crutchie hit the hot cement hard, the churros flattened instantly between his chest and the ground. He lay there for a moment, wincing in pain; he hadn’t been able to catch his fall quick enough and his chin had taken the brunt of the impact. There would surely be a bruise, Crutchie realized as he tenderly worked his jaw and tested its movement.
As Crutchie refocused on his surroundings, he noticed a crowd of curious onlookers had gathered around him. Someone kept asking if he was okay and Crutchie finally managed to push himself up into a sitting position. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he grunted, rubbing at his jaw. He glanced at the two snickering teenagers, who didn’t even have the decency to look away guiltily.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” some old lady was asking. Someone had produced a wheelchair and Crutchie waved it away.
“I’m fine.” He stuck to the two words because he was worried that if he kept talking, the embarrassment and pain of it all would catch up to him and he’d be unable to keep the tears at bay. He wiped the crushed churros off of his shirt, dismayed at the waste of money. They had been expensive and he had just wanted to try one. Was that too much to ask for? One churro? One for him and one for Jack?
Jack. Where was he? Crutchie glanced up and blinked in surprise at two churros in his face. “Here, you can have these,” the good Samaritan offered.
“No, I’m fine,” Crutchie bit out, standing up. He wobbled slightly as his head spun at the movement, but he would be fine. When the man kept persistently trying to press the churros into Crutchie’s hand, Crutchie muttered in irritation, “No. I’m fine. I don’t want the stupid churros.”
He just wanted Jack. Where was Jack? “Let me through,” Crutchie tried, pushing through the people. He hated crowds. Why did he ever even agree to come to Disneyland? This all sucked and Crutchie just wanted to find Jack and go home. “Let me through,” he repeated and the visitors must have noticed the fire in his eyes, because they parted, letting him pass through.
Across the walkway, seated on the bench was Jack, scrolling through his phone. Crutchie quickly crossed over and collapsed on the bench next to his boyfriend. “Hey, you got churros?” Jack asked, looking up. Crutchie merely shook his head and Jack glanced at him in confusion, noting cinnamon still clinging to his shirt, the red scrapes across his chin, and the faint glimmer of tears held back in his eyes. Much softer, Jack asked, “Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?”
“I just want to go home. This place sucks,” Crutchie muttered. “You can stay, but I think I’m going to go back to the hotel.” Crutchie shifted, as if to stand up, but Jack tugged him back down.
“No, wait. What happened back there?”
Crutchie shook his head. “It doesn’t really matter, okay? Now, can I get the hotel key card? I think I left mine in the room.”
Jack started stuffing a map into his backpack. “You wanna go, we can go.”
“No, Jack, the tickets were expensive. I don’t want you to miss out just because of my stupid leg.”
“I’m not missing anything because of your leg,” Jack pointed out. “Did someone say something?”
Crutchie sighed. “It was just these two teenagers. They were idiots. Kept saying things about me faking for passes, and… After I got the churros, they tripped me and… I’m sorry,” Crutchie finished.
“For crushing the churros.” He hesitated before adding, “For holding you back with my leg.”
“Okay, for one thing,” Jack began quickly, “I don’t care about the churros. Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”
Crutchie shrugged. “I broke the fall with my jaw. My hands were full. It still stings a little.”
Jack gently leaned forward, kissing Crutchie’s jaw. “There. Now it’ll get better soon.” Once Crutchie had smiled at that, Jack continued, “Second, I don’t want you to ever think you’re holding me back. I don’t care whether you have one leg, two legs, or three. I love you, Crutch. Not your limbs.” He waited once more for Crutchie to smile shyly, before adding, “And, third, who tripped you, because I’m going to knock some sense into them.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Crutchie waved Jack’s concern away. “I’m fine. They’re just idiots. Let ‘em go.”
“On one condition,” Jack agreed.
“Well, two conditions, I guess.”
Crutchie laughed a little. “I don’t know. Seems a little steep, to me,” he teased.
“You don’t even know what my conditions are!” Jack cried out in indignation.
“Fine, what are your conditions?”
“I won’t go after them if you let me go get us some churros because Katherine will kill us if we don’t have any. And, if we go ride Space Mountain first.”
Crutchie studied Jack for a moment. “I don’t know… Those are pretty hard to agree to… Space Mountain?”
“Fine, what do you suggest?”
“Make it Tower of Terror and I’m yours.”
Jack frowned. “That’s in the other park,” he complained.
“Oh, shut up. We have those park-hopper passes.”
Jack relented, kissing Crutchie. “Only for you. Now come on, we’re running out of daylight!”
“It’s 9 in the morning!”
“Yeah, and this kid,” Jack said, gesturing to himself, “ain’t getting any younger!”
“Hollywood, 1939. Amidst the glitz and the glitter of a bustling young movie talent at the height of its golden age, the Hollywood Tower Hotel was a star in its own right. A beacon for the show business elite. Now, something is about to happen that will change all that.”