The slingshot ride was supposed to be fun. Just a quick launch, a little scream, maybe some laughs. But for this guy, it turned into a full emotional breakdown at 100 miles per hour.
The moment the staff locked him in, his confidence disappeared. His smile froze, his hands tightened, and his eyes screamed mistake. As the countdown started, he tried to laugh it off, but his voice cracked like a cartoon character stepping on a banana peel. Then it happened.
“HELP ME, JANICE!”
Nobody knows who Janice is. His girlfriend? His ex? His mom? A random coworker? But at that exact moment, Janice became his last hope on Earth.
The slingshot launched, and his soul left his body. His scream wasn’t loud — it was dramatic. The kind of scream that sounds like a man rethinking every life decision, from this ride all the way back to skipping breakfast. His legs stiffened, his head tilted back, and his face said, I am not built for this.
As the ride shot upward, he genuinely looked like he was about to slide out of existence. His hands flailed, his voice cracked again, and somehow “Help me” turned into a mix of prayer, apology, and regret. The crowd below laughed, but he was fighting for spiritual survival.
Then, just as fast as it started, the ride slowed. Gravity returned. His scream faded into heavy breathing. When it was finally over, he sat there in silence, eyes wide, still processing what just happened.
He didn’t laugh. He didn’t talk. He just stared forward like a man who had seen things.
One thing is clear: he survived the slingshot… but Janice will never forget that call for help.
