There is a specific kind of grief that arrives at 9:02 AM on the morning of a trip eleven months in the making. Not the grief of loss, exactly — more the grief of a spreadsheet betrayed. Lightning Lane opens with a man standing at the gates of the Happiest Place on Earth, phone in hand, watching tier-one availability vanish in real time one ride at a time, until only the Carousel of Progress remains: a slow-rotating room from 1964, booked for 11:30, in August, in Florida, after paying eighty-five dollars a person for the privilege.
This is Episode 17 of Yelp Review the Musical, and it follows the familiar three-act architecture of consumer rage escalated to full theatrical grandeur — a tenor recitative that builds from careful optimism to barely-contained fury, an ensemble Act II where a cheerful Cast Member named Chad delivers scripted pleasantries at precisely the wrong moment, and a fortissimo SATB finale that crowns the Carousel of Progress as the monument to everything that went wrong. A detuned woodwind phrase trails through every mention of the Florida heat. The app-refresh rhythm pulses harder each time he counts. The melted Dole Whip gets its own moment in the choir. One star.
[Verse 1]
Six fifty-nine A-M, the park had yet to open,
My finger on the app, eleven months of hope in—
I'd planned every FastPass, rehearsed every queue line,
Eighty-five dollars for Lightning Lane — that's fine.
I hit the button. Seven oh one A-M.
Tron: unavailable.
I hit the button. Seven oh two A-M.
Guardians: unavailable.
Toy Story Mania — unavailable!
Carousel of Progress — eleven thirty — available.
[Chorus]
Eleven months. I planned eleven months.
I spreadsheet-mapped the park in February,
I color-coded, cross-referenced, necessary,
And all I got — is a rotating room.
[Verse 2]
The August heat descends on Cinderella's towers,
A languid, wilting heat that steals the morning hours,
My Dole Whip — once a beacon — now a puddle in my palm,
Eighty-five per person and I cannot stay calm.
Maybe Carousel of Progress is quite charming—
Do NOT.
[Bridge]
Attention, park guests! Lightning Lane Multi-Pass
Provides access to select attractions and experiences.
Tier-one availability is subject to demand—
We thank you for your patience and your purchase!
Forty-seven — times — I refreshed that app.
FORTY — SEVEN.
[Verse 3]
And then I saw them.
A family of twelve —
Could be thirteen —
In color-coordinated Mickey ears,
A double-wide stroller and a triple-wide swagger,
Marching right past me through the Lightning Lane gate —
Every tier-one ride — every single one —
How? HOW? HOW DO THEY HAVE—
[Ensemble]
Hey there! How are we doing today?
Can I help you find your next Lightning Lane?
We have a great slot for Carousel of Progress—
It's a classic attraction, it never regresses!
I paid eighty-five dollars, Chad.
It's a classic!
It's a rotating room, Chad.
It rotates into the future!
I live in the future, Chad. It's called Tuesday.
[Chorus]
Eleven months. Eleven months of planning.
I built a spreadsheet with conditional formatting.
I set three alarms for six fifty-nine A-M.
And all that stands between me and despair
Is a Carousel — a Carousel —
A Carousel of Progress — at eleven thirty.
At eleven thirty.
At eleven thirty.
[Finale]
CAROUSEL — OF — PROGRESS!
WHERE THE FUTURE'S ALWAYS BRIGHT!
EXCEPT FOR HIM — IN AUGUST HEAT—
HIS DOLE WHIP DIED — AT DAWN'S FIRST LIGHT!
I waited. I planned. I paid.
I refreshed forty-seven times.
I stood before the castle in the Florida sun,
Watching strangers live the dream that should have been mine.
LIGHTNING LANE — THE MULTI-PASS!
EIGHTY-FIVE DOLLARS — PER PERSON — PER DAY!
AND THE ONLY LANE THAT'S OPEN TO YOU
IS THE SLOW ONE. IS THE OLD ONE. IS THE—