“Yeah, it solves all my problems.”
“Or causes so many more. Send me the waiver.”
I forward everything while he starts his laptop. Mark has filmed enough overnight attractions with me that I recognize the silence when he reaches the relevant page.
“This clause is garbage.”
“Which one, because there are a few?”
“The part where they can ignore withdrawal if they find it part of the experience.”
“I saw it.”
“You understand what they’re doing?”
“They’re selling me the idea that once I enter, I don’t control when it stops.”
“You think it’s just them trying to scare you with a waiver, but this is serious.”
“I’m aware.”
His keyboard goes quiet, and I look at the warning on my monitor again before saying, “I think they have an internal termination system.”
“You think?”
“They operate across multiple states. Somebody has to be able to stop a scene.”
“Someone on their side.”
“That is usually how extreme attractions work.”
“This waiver isn’t, though.”
I scroll farther while Mark reads, finding the section I remembered from the application.
“There’s an exterior observer.”
“I just found it.”
“One person stays on-site in a monitoring trailer.”
“And cannot enter after the gates close.”
“They receive the feed.”
“They receive whatever feed Crimson Night sends.”
I lean back in my chair. “You could do it.”
Mark is quiet long enough to make me check the call.
“So I sit outside and watch.”
“You document.”
“From behind a locked boundary while somebody else decides what reaches my screen.”
“That is the arrangement.”