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Simply Too Believable: Why I’m Boycotting Our Neighborhood Ripley’s Believe It Or Not!

I went through the entire museum, every exhibit, and let me tell you: the vast majority of the oddities on display here are actually quite believable.

…Ma’am, I understand that you’re both the cashier and the manager of this Ripley’s Believe It Or Not! You’re very busy, I get it. What I’m saying is that I think I should get a refund—nay, I think I’m owed a refund! And frankly, you’re not being very helpful.

How many times do I need to explain? I went through the entire museum, every exhibit, and let me tell you: the vast majority of the oddities on display here are actually quite believable. In fact, I believed about 80% of your claims. I accepted nearly all the silly pictograms for truth and I was generally convinced by most of the exotic dioramas. This is unacceptable.

Yes, I understand the very name of this company includes the caveat “Believe It Or Not,” but I hardly think that defense will hold up in a court of law. Why even add the “or not?” It sounds like you don’t even have confidence in the product you’re selling and yet I’m supposed to shell out $32.50 or $12 for a child? Highway robbery! I thought Busch Gardens was bad, but this place is a riot.

—I can’t be the only one who’s angry about this! Is anyone else hearing this? Sir. Hey, Sir! Yes, you with the two small children: can you believe this shit… or not? Excuse my language, but I’m heated.

Look, ma’am: yes, there were a few unbelievable things. I can admit that. The 1,400 pound man from your exhibit entitled “Super Fat & Super Skinny: Oddities of Human Boddities!” That was wild! I didn’t believe that for a second. So, good on you, kudos. But the Shrunken Heads of Papua New Guinea? The entire one person home carved into the trunk of a redwood? The really long worm? Those were pretty reasonable. They were within the realm of believability, hence the problem.

—Sir, I’m speaking to the cashier right now. You can clearly see me having a conversation. You’ll get your tickets in a second, though you may want to listen to what I’m saying, bud. It might save you a few bucks!

What did you say, ma’am? Oh, yes. Yes, I saw the sign that says there are absolutely no refunds. I thought that was part of the museum and I didn’t believe it. It was one of my favorite bits, to be honest.

Are you seriously not going to refund me? The facade of this very building makes it look like it’s an upside-down, topsy turvy castle. Obviously, your customers see this and expect an unbelievable, indescribable time when they enter these doors. Do we need to get Mr. Ripley on the phone? I’m sure he will not find it amusing that one of his employees is being rude to a skeptic. Well, Mr. Ripley, believe it, bucko!

Also, I wasn’t even going to mention this, but my son puked in the spinning vortex room. 

So that’s it, huh? No refund, no voucher, no coupon, not even a complimentary giant pencil from the gift shop? Fine. Fine! Who needs a giant pencil anyway? I can’t write anything meaningful with a pencil that large. It’s impractical.

—Everybody! Listen to me! Everybody standing in this line for Ripley’s Believe It Or Else!, do not give them your money! Don’t get drawn in by the intoxicating promise of incredulity!  Trust me on this!Oh, I see you called the pigs. You didn’t need to call security, ma’am. I was leaving, but rest assured I will not be returning to this establishment and I will make sure other members of this community will not either. As soon as I find my son in your wooden labyrinth of a museum, I’m officially starting a boycott of this Ripley’s Believe It Or Not! And you can believe that! Good day to you.


This post appears courtesy of our March 2021 publishing partnership with Flexx. Every month, Widget partners with an organisation to feature one post/week from their contributors, members, or so on. View the other posts from our partner’s contributors here.

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Taylor Gonzalez
Taylor Gonzalez

Taylor is a comedy and horror writer and filmmaker based in Brooklyn. He's the editor-in-chief of Flexx Magazine, creator of deadass, co-creator of horror zine youarenotalone, and co-founder of the Diverse As Fuck Comedy Festival in New York City. He's also known to eat a sandwich.

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