Walt Disney World’s Finest (Alternate Title: Choke on it, Haters!)

A Michigan woman was arrested Wednesday night for choking a teenager at Walt Disney World’s Magic Kingdom.

Pure Misery.

Tabbatha Mature was vacationing with her family and patiently awaiting the nightly firework show, when she got into it with a teenager that she and her family had repeatedly asked to sit down. Seems the teen and her friends were standing and blocking Mature’s family from seeing the display. Tabbatha argued with the group and like most teenagers do, they quit caring, realized it’s the same lame fireworks every night, and decided to leave. As the girl left, she told the family that they could have her spot, when Ms. Mature (that really is this delicate rose’s last name) allegedly grabbed the teen by the throat, squeezed it and said, “You don’t wanna mess with me!”

Shaken, the teen reported her to the Disney Police, who arrested and put Ms. Mature in “Walt’s Vault,”


While the teen was not harmed, after talking to her mom, she’s decided she’s pressing charges. Though in reality, the child should press charges against ALL OF DISNEY WORLD.

Look, violence is never the answer, and all that jazz, but dude, if ever there were a justifiable cause to snap, being a parent in Walt Disney World would be it.

See, just last May my family and I were treated to the cash-grab that WDW is these days. The exorbitant prices, expensive crappy food your kid won’t eat, $12.00 balloons and $30.00 plastic souvenir cups, coupled with wall to wall people, sweltering FLORIDA humidity, and LINES! LINES! LINES!, it becomes all to easy to lose your cool.

Then you add entitled and surly teenagers, a true scourge upon humanity, well…it’s a recipe for disaster.

I’m not saying I condone threatening to snap a kid’s neck like a Slim Jim, but Tabby, I feel you girl.

We could be besties, I can feel it.

Another reason it’s  all Disney’s fault: the Magic Kingdom is the only Disney park that does NOT serve alcohol, which I feel is the cruelest part of Disney’s equation. If you’re going to lure us to a concrete rat-trap and fleece us for thousands and thousands of dollars, AT LEAST LET US BUY A BOTTLE (or 6) OF SOMETHING TO CHUG WHILE WE HAVE TO LOOK AT THE SAME OVERHYPED FIREWORKS NIGHT AFTER NIGHT.

Clicquot is my pixie dust.

I firmly believe that if Ms. Mature were given access to a nice chardonnay or light beer, she would have chilled the fiddlestix out and chased the teens away with nature’s teenager repellant, awkward forced small talk with adults!

Who are you lady, and why do you want to know what grade I’m in!?



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