Disclaimer: Disney owns Disney, Newsies, and Friskywallabee gets credit for naming Bryce.
Fronteirland
By Htom Sirveaux
"Sir, you can't come in like that," the Disney Cast Member, whose nametag read Bryce, said to Jack, looking torn between amusement and annoyance. His eyes looked from the top of his ridiculous ten gallon hat, to his leather vest and matching pants and fringe, to his boots, complete with spurs. David took a step back, trying to pretend he wasn't with Jack, although his tongue had been down his throat two minutes later.
Jack feigned extreme insult, putting his hand to his chest. He began speaking in the most outrageous accent, "Zis ees zee nat-a-rahl cloding ob mah nahteeve con-tray! Eet vould be a big een-salt if I took eet off!"
"What country would that be, sir?" Bryce deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.
"Sohn-ta Fay-iance-mania-land," Jack said, as David forcefully hit his palm against his own head. "Vee are veray small but IMPORTANT."
"Listen," David said, desperately, "Can't you make an exception? He's not mentally well. You just let fifty little kids in dressed as Cinderella. I mean, what's the worst he could do?"
"Oh, alright," Bryce said, winking at David, patting him on the hand. "Only because you're cute."
"BACK OFF, FRUIT CAKE!" Jack yelled, punching him, and then grabbed David to run through the wheelchair entrance.
"Sorry, it's the schizophrenia!" David called back, as Jack began making his way toward Fronteirland.