The secessionists in Fisher are done with their charade, and now it’s time for the charred and blistered residents of East Central Illinois to slink deep into the dark heart of Crystal Lake, lining up dutifully for the annual pilgrimage of supplication to the hog-headed gods of bounty, hedonism, and self-obliteration.
A time for itinerant carnies to spread the gospel of free love, cheap dope, and underground opossum fighting. A time to combine main courses on a stick with deep-fried desserts. A time to admire the loin length of a fine piece of pigflesh on the hoof. A time to savor the sweet musk of under-combusted dinosaur slime. To let carbon monoxide tenderize the calcifying neuroses of your daily life like so much noaromatherapy. And most importantly, a time for degenerate gambling. There’s no better feeling than recouping your afternoon bingo losses with a big comeback win at the fair in the evening; we don’t care if your sponsor says otherwise.
With that in mind, we’ve constructed a few prop bets for each day that the fair’s in town. Remember, these are for entertainment purposes only, unless you think you’re more than a spineless worm, sucking helplessly on the teat of mother government as you spend your days arguing against Wittgenstein’s anti-realism in YouTube comment threads. If you’ve got the balls, we’ve got the odds, and we’ll be taking your money at the door.
FRIDAY, JULY 22
- You will eat too much and vomit before the first car catches fire at the demolition derby: 7 to 2.
- Possible parlay: The first car which catches fire will be painted to resemble the General Lee: 15 to 1.
- At least one car will wander aimlessly around the ring, its steering column battered like NFL brains, but its motor still saying Go Go Go. You can’t help but think of Jack Kerouac: 9 to 6.2.
If you haven’t been to a demolition derby at a county fair, you are living the pale imitation. There is real fun to be had watching old cars smash into one another until there is only one left which can move. It’s like The Highlander with pistons, crankshafts, and great clouds of exhaust. It’s fun that is neither good nor clean, but that’s the propagandistic slogan of religious zealots and pimps, anyway. When is fun ever good or clean? Plus, it’s a much better junker-disposal idea than the one that Kenyan tried to implement a few years ago. Seriously, check out the demo derby, either tonight or next Friday; you won’t be disappointed. If it’s good, there will be at least one woman in the crowd screaming at all times during the proceedings. That’s how you can tell.
- This is also Military Appreciation Day, and as such the military-industrial complex will proffer an unprompted 55% cut to the Pentagon’s budget, accepting its responsibility as a principal driver of our current economic woes: ∞ to 1.
SATURDAY, JULY 23
- Brantley Gilbert will perform entire show from the hood of a 1982 Oldsmobile Delta 88: 40 to 1.
It seems like the lead guitarist has the right idea, as a pickup truck bed is clearly a better base for rockin’ than a car hood, but Brantley’s the frontman, so he calls the shots. He’s even forced to defend himself later in the video because of this brave decision. Thankfully, he emerges victorious to kick it in the sticks another day. This show’s sold out, and the desperation is mounting; buyers are offering as much as $20 per ticket on Craigslist, but no one’s selling. Surely, the invisible hand of the market will correct this imbalance by showtime.
SUNDAY, JULY 24
- A truck without some permutation of “Ram” in its name wins the Prairieland Monster Truck Nationals: 10 to 1.
When I was a kid I wanted to see Bigfoot destroy every motorized vehicle on every road known to man. Now that I’m an adult, I still think that’s a great idea. And I would set it to the soundtrack of Creed.
- 9 a.m. Horse Show. Aww yeah … you know what that means: 5 to 2.
- Noon–4 p.m. Fire Apparatus Water Ball Competition. I continue to have no idea what that means: Even Money.
- 10:00 a.m. Religious Service — Someone asks where the secular humanist service is and mumbles something incoherent about government and flying spaghetti monsters: 9 to 1.
MONDAY, JULY 25
- Livestock judge will make at least one uncomfortable reference to “testicle size”: 4 to 1.
- Livestock judge will make one very comfortable reference to “testicle size”: 3 to 1.
I’ll never forget this moment: the purebred ram show, Dickinson County Fair, circa 1987. My Suffolk buck, Cornelius (not his real name), was strong and proud, but he was a bit less well-endowed than some of his fellow-competitors, and you could tell he was insecure about it. Sure enough, the judge that day knew just how to hurt a buck like Cornelius. The judge placed him fifth in his class, and in explaining the rankings to the audience, went on and on about the superior testicle size of the bucks in first through fourth place. Continuing, he made an offhand remark about Cornelius’ small hooves, and the message was sent.
- 7 p.m. Talent Show & “Big” Give-Away. In an effort to regain some street cred, The Brat Pack will take to the stage and play a 40 minute set of aneurysm-inducing feedback and noise while Michael Ladue reads from the latest issue of The Watchtower, the official publication of the Jehovah’s Witnesses: Please God, make it happen.
Deputy Mayor, Motherfuckers!
TUESDAY, JULY 26
- Champaign County Tea Party crashes Democrat Day: 100 to 1.
- Over/under for casualties: 6.
- Bowing and scraping before our corporate overlords: Even Money.
In the interest of reducing the amount of inter-party violence from previous years, the Champaign County Fair has instituted separate days for Democrats and Republicans. This is, of course, all part of a sleight-of-hand campaign by the Bilderberg Group to convince the proletariat that there are two parties and that we’re not simply living in Philip K Dick’s eternal Roman Empire, whereby America is the whore of Babylon and the mad emperor dances atop the domed edifices of our lost capitol. Go ask that dude from Slot & Wing Hobby; he’ll pay you actual money to eat dinner while Glenn Beck fills you in on the details from an undisclosed location in outer space.
- Gertrude Styne, the 2 ton talking sow will host a workshop on the debt ceiling, uncovering a viable solution to the stalemate in D.C. No one will listen: 25 or 6 to 4.
She may also prophesy about pork belly futures.
WEDNESDAY, JULY 27
- Motorcycle race won by a 1952 Vincent Black Lightning: 500 to 1.
We’re your friends. We’re not like the others, man, really.
Red hair on black leather, my favorite color scheme. I tell you in earnest, I’m a dangerous man.
THURSDAY, JULY 28
- The winner of the “World Championship Rodeo” is actually crowned the rodeo champion of the world: 10,000 to 1.
- The Champaign-Urbana Optimist Club, which will be sponsoring rides for Children aged 3 thru 12 from 1:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m., ignores “depressing” warning regarding the 28-year-old, now-7-armed, Octopus Vortex of Centripetal Death ride, calling the risk “remote and typical fear-mongering.” 666 to 1.
FRIDAY, JULY 29
Jesus, will this thing ever end?
- This time around, you’ve learned your lesson: you eat a sensible dinner before heading to the demo derby, buy your kids a custard but don’t treat yourself, eschew fried foods and drink responsibly once on the grounds, and are killed by a flying tire from a goddamn Chevelle: 2 to 1.
SATURDAY, JULY 30
- In an upset, the tractor pull is won by one of those annoying half-size John Deeres like your brother-in-law uses to haul hay bales to his fucking Shetland ponies. Dick.: 20 to 1.