Goofy. That motherfucker, man.
One fine day, I was at the wonderful land of Walt Disney World, located in Orlando, Florida. I am not a man given to foolish vices, nor am I the sort who acts like a fool. No, calm and levelheaded. I am wandering the Magic Kingdom, enjoying all the bounties of AdventureLand. That's right; Hall of Presidents, Haunted Mansion, the whole deal.
Suddenly, a figure approaches out of an alleyway. That figure is Goofy, his enormous head staring at me with those unblinking eyes. I catch a flicker of emotion, perhaps a projection of mine onto that plastic face. Goofy, his hands covered in gigantic gloves, gestures me forward. He probably wants a picture.
No, he reaches into his pocket, and withdraws a flask. Struggling, he opens it, and proffers it to me. Immediately, a powerful scent wafts upwards, giving me tantalizing hints of cinnamon, exotic spices, and illicit joys. His face is pleading in the way only an expressionless mask can be.
Normally, I am not the sort to accept drinks, but this man is Goofy. He speaks to me from my childhood, a voice echoing up from the well of the past and pulling some strings. I take the flask from his oversized hands, and hold it to my mouth. Goofy, amused by this, motions that I should drink, and then makes a zipper gesture.
I take that drink, and my every sense is awash in joy. Goofy's laughter as I do this echoes through my mind, and I black out.
Six hours later, I come to in Cinderella's castle. I have acquired a crossbow, a pair of Micky Ears bearing the name "Randolf", and six hostages, Cast Members all. I have lost my shirt, replacing it with a vest covered in sugary delights, and helicopters circle around.
As I gaze out on the majesty of my kingdom, a single figure catches my eye amidst all of the police officers, spectators, and armed SWAT. That figure is Goofy, and he is giving me the thumbs up.