The "Barrel of Laughs" door leads to a large, rotating corridor made from wood planks, as if you were walking inside a rolling barrel. Somewhere a cheap sound system plays a laugh track.
As you make your way through the corridor, you stumble to maintain your balance. As you trip repeated over your own feet, you could swear that they seem a little larger than before. You use your hands to steady yourself against the rotating room, but as your hands make contact with the barrel, there's a loud *pop* and suddenly they too are larger, and wearing white gloves you don't remember ever putting on.
Mercifully, the barrel ends and you make your way into another part of the funhouse. There are grates all over the floor and predictably, as you step over them, air shoots up to startle you. Each time you pass over a grate, you are greeted with another blast, and another, and another, each accompanied by more silly laughter.
The wooshing air is strong enough to blow your hair upward. But what's more frustrating, is it's lifting your skirt. Wait a minute? Skirt? How annoying. Your pretty little polka dotted skirt keeps billowing out, revealing your puffy bloomers underneath and your striped stockings. Luckily, you aren't easily embarassed.
As you pass into another area, a large horn blares and confetti shoots down from the ceiling, its many pieces lodging into your pink, curly hair. You shake your head to dislodge them, sending your massive locks swaying about, brushing past your shoulders and the sides of your face. You then retie the ribbons that were holding your big, poofy pigtails in place.
Man, you think, fluffing up your big, pretty, pink hair, I can't wait to show my girlfriend this place. She won't believe it!
You start to climb some stairs which pump up and down like pistons. It's a difficult climb, particularly for someone with such large feet (in and such large heels no less!) but you make it.
Finally, you reach the top to find a covered slide that twists downward into total darkness. What the heck, you figure, as you ease into it and let gravity take care of the rest.
The bumpy ride wreaks havoc on your ass, but with each bump it seems to hurt less and less until its actually quite comfortable. Like you're sitting on a pillow. Make that two pillows. Well, you always did have an incredibly large bottom, didn't you?
Bump. Bump. Bump.
The bumps also ripple through your massive DD breasts. You steady them with your gloved hands and let out a high-pitched girlish giggle. This is fun!
Colors began to swirl past you as you make your way down. Your stomach does backflips and it becomes harder and harder to think. Memories of your old life fade and soon it becomes difficult to remember ever being anywhere but the funhouse. After all, you were raised here, weren't you?
Suddenly the tunnel ends and you come plopping out on your big fanny with a ridiculous fart sound. You hear laughter and realize that you have landed on a platform with a whole audience of people below, pointing and laughing at YOU!
You struggle with your comical proportions as you get to your feet, and catch your reflection in an adjacent funhouse mirror. The image reflected back is distorted but it's still unmistakable.
As you gaze at the mirror in awe, your gloved hand reaches up and gently feels the contours of your new bulbous, red nose. Instinctively you give it a squeeze and it responds with a loud honk! You bat your long eyelashes and the character in the glass does the same. You primp your hair a little and smooth out your hoop skirt. Satisfied, you curtsy before the onlookers.
"Ladies and gentlemen," a booming voice announces. "May I present Prissy the Clown!"