Ask Me Why Mickey Is Killing Mr. Toad
“Eisner doesn’t care about you… Do not let this villainy go unpunished!”
Mania. There is absolute artistry in mania. Beauty. Mesmerizing. Consuming.
Mania.
When you drown everything out. Mute. Pause. Zeroing in on one…
It’s a plush. A soft little teddy bear meant for warm hugs and bedtime stories. A yellow coat of fur donning a little red t-shirt. Friendly. Cuddly. Fueled by storybook adventures and pots of honey. Rather than holing up in the Hundred Acre Wood, this bear is destined for the toy shelf or wherever its new Christopher Robin will be toting it about.
And so, as the Florida sun dazzles overhead and the sky is yet clear of the inevitable afternoon rain shower, a lone Winnie the Pooh doll takes flight. Bears can fly too, right? All it takes is one imaginative child with their eyes on the skies and up it goes. With wind in its fur, the bear soars… bleeding stuffing into the breeze.
Little clouds of fiber fill now speckle the air, trickling out of the gaping tear where the bear’s head would be. Torn fabric and stitching thread awry.
It’s a world away from the wholesome abode of the Hundred Acre Wood. And its new friend is no Christopher Robin.
The decapitated Winnie the Pooh finds itself all at once aloft, maimed, and unable to think, “Oh, bother!” without a head.
When you zoom out just a smidge, capturing just a bit more in the image, a stunning lagoon comes into focus. Sizeable. Lush. Tropical vegetation sitting around its perimeter, turquoise waters providing clear views of colorful corals, a mystical cavern hiding behind waterfalls at the opposite end… A slice of paradise from the Caribbean nestled in the heart of Fantasyland.
It’s a captivating sight. One that immediately provokes one to wonder what resides here? What charming experience awaits here? For surely there are boat rides, at the very least, to take in the clearly intentional displays of corals and sea life.
And if one’s in fact familiar with the lagoon, they can picture the steampunk submarines sailing by. A vessel commonly mistaken for a sea monster, bearing resemblance to a crocodile and a shark with lime green glowing eyes. The inhabitant of Vulcania. An E-ticket attraction whose line never saw shorter than an hour’s wait. Because who didn’t want to sail aboard the Nautilus?
But the lagoon is still. The person unawares then notices the absence of signage on what was clearly its dock. The person well familiar sighs as they notice the submarines have finally been removed.
Taking up the lion’s share of Fantasyland, just beyond the sparkling spires of Cinderella Castle, is the abandoned 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Center stage, not in the least bit hidden, conspicuous as could be — the Jules Verne attraction sits in decay after an unexpected closure some four years prior.
It was the Nautilus’ turn for annual maintenance. A routine, month long event for every attraction at Disney World, year in, year out. The regular measures taken for the upkeep of an attraction that otherwise operated every single day of the year for 12+ hours a day.
“Pardon our dust,” The park assured in a cute little cartoon of an octopus cleaning the submarine, “20,000 Leagues Under The Sea is being refurbished for your future enjoyment.”
Famous last words.
20k Leagues would proceed to sit abandoned for another six years yet.
Thus, here at the most Magical Place On Earth, a beheaded stuffed animal whizzes through the sky on the porch of an abandoned attraction as throngs of dead frog clad Disney adults protest the croaking of another Fantasyland dark ride.
It’s September 7th, 1998. Fantasyland, Magic Kingdom, Walt Disney World Resort. Also known as D-Day: Toad Edition.
And this is just the beginning of a long, long day.