MERRYMOUSELAND is divided into four distinct quarters, each with its own theme, attractions, and classic Merrymouse mascot.

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The north – The Golden Kingdom - is the domain of the main star, Merry Gold Merrymouse, where the best rides reside, or rather where they used to reside. That’s where Stormer’s Cove is, affording a bird’s eye view of the whole park. It’s also home to remnants of the Infinity Shuttle – a breakneck coaster and all-around favorite, Manic Mangoose’s Monstery Manor, and the dubiously-dubbed Ninjas of the Asiatic, an indoor flume ride with rust-tinged irradiated water and its very own long succession of cinematic adaptations steeped in stereotype and coated in colonialism, that seemed like they might could go on forever. Let us not forget the oldest ride in the park, the rickety and inadvertently nightmare-inducing It’s a Merry Merry Land Ain’t It?

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To the east is Dandy Lion’s Discovery Village, full of thrilling educational attractions like the Hall of Obscure Dignitaries, which families would sometimes slip in just to escape the heat, and Hypertime Moon Safari, which despite the coolness of its name was one of the milder attractions, a slow-as-snails creeping tour of mankind’s manifest destiny housed inside an otherwise impressively inverted pyramid. Trust me—it was much more exciting to look at than be inside, back when it was still standing.

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To the south is Zinny Yuh’s Neighborhood, an anthropomorphized horse who had a pet horse of her own, which never seemed to bother anyone but me I guess. This is where most of the gift shops and restaurants could be found. It’s also where they held an ostentatious pop-up parade like clockwork every ten minutes throughout the day, every day except Sunday. Note that the parade took seven minutes to make the rounds around the pavilion, leaving only three minutes for families to frantically vacate the sidewalks before getting stuck there to witness the entire spectacle all over again. Due to large crowds, some families wouldn’t make it across without watching the same parade four or five or even six times. The trick was to force them into the shops for all those cheaply-made souvenirs.       This trick always worked.

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Finally, in the west, where just outside the sprawling gates you’ll find a scattering of wending crackodile swamps, marshes, and dimly neon bogs, is Dafty Dill’s Kiddy Corner. Dafty Dill was this really dumb wolf who was so bad at being a wolf that he gave up meat and decided to be a candy chef instead. (Imagine a Willy Wonka type, except clumsier with patchwork overalls and a hat made out of licorice.) This part of the park was once packed with teeth-rotting concession stands, a fully functional midway, and a few rides for the little ones, including Raddish the Ribbit’s Jangly Jaunt, which may as well have been called Projectile Vomit: The Ride.

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