After the overwhelmingly positive reaction to the release of their second river rapids, Brookwood Gardens chose to continue riding the dumbwaiter of success before the flimsy rope snapped and sent them crashing back to the crypt. Since they had triumphed with a water ride, they concluded that a second water ride would be three times as successful. Despite the obvious deficiency in both their funds and their math skills, they were able to collect enough cash to build a pirate-themed log flume in a region modeled after a North American mountain range.



During the late 90s, however, a group of coaster enthusiasts banded together to form a short-lived and little-known coalition against the construction of new log flumes. Shortly after Treasure Hunter opened to the public, members of this group flocked around the ride entrance with picket signs that mostly just consisted of Radiohead lyrics and quotes from the Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Since it was the 90s, most of them didn't actually know what they were protesting. Even though management had been pleased with the increasing food sales due to protesters pelting it at the ride, the CEO had spent valuable time and resources "hiring" pickpockets to "earn" the finances necessary to build the ride, so he stepped in and asked the leader of the group, Gene Spearitt, why he was protesting this ride. Gene responded, "FYI, we have enough log flumes in the world already. They aren't all that and a bag of chips," as he hucked a bag of chips at the ride. The CEO wasn't going to let his grill be iced by a scrub like Gene, so he told him, "Your comments will be taken into consideration, and you are welcome in my park any time. Psyche!" And he promptly called security to escort that melon head out of the park. Gene, who was not down with being punked, went from bunk to totally postal, yelled the most profane phrase known to mankind at the time--"Eat my shorts!"--and threw a molotov cocktail onto the ride before security tackled him and then tickled him. Much to his surprise, but fairly predictably by realistic standards, the water did not catch on fire. Even though he was charged with attempted "Arrrrson" for attempting to burn down this pirate-themed log flume, Brookwood Gardens didn't have a single good lawyer on the payroll due to the lack of a payroll, so Gene was able to sway the jury and reverse the charges, and was later awarded with the Solid Gear Medal for his heroic act of extinguishing a burning bottle.



Even though the ride now possessed something that the rest of Brookwood Gardens lacked--cultural relevance--it was still unable to attract guests between the ages of 14 and 30, as this demographic rarely had much money during this decade; everyone in this age range with a job either delivered pizzas for a living or was a member of Hanson. The demographic they were able to attract, not surprisingly, were grown men who thought they were pirates. Since these delusional old men allowed the ticket vendors to "plunder" the admission fee from the pockets of their buccaneer coats, management allowed them to carry their cutlasses around the park provided that they agreed not to "pillage" the donut stands. After yo-ho-hoing their way to Treasure Hunter, they would jump out of the log-shaped boat and scale the grounds for real treasure, using hamburger wrappers as maps.  They were generally unsuccessful, though there was one instance where a group actually did find buried treasure under the ride. Historians failed to determine how a chest of 17th-century gold ended up buried just 5 feet underneath the base of a mountain range 500 miles from the ocean in Oklahoma, while the swashbucklers who discovered it weren't even looking for it. "We couldn't find the park exit. Consider improving the layout of your paths. Arrr!" Management advised them to buy actual park maps and stop taking directions from hamburger wrappers.



Gene, meanwhile, had not settled his dispute with Brookwood Gardens, and took full advantage of the increasing number of guests dressed as pirates to sneak into the park and try and sabotage the rides and the food; not that that would be a difficult task since Brookwood Gardens would meet any sabotage halfway. Even though his pirate disguises made his appearance unrecognizable, he rarely showered, so the security team was able to sniff him out every time before he was able to do any real damage. He snuck into the park every week for years and was thrown out each time due to his foul stench, until January 2000, when he forgot why he was upset with the park and subsequently moved to Ohio to protest the construction of Millennium Force because it threatened his 90s lifestyle. Management never saw or heard from him again, though his odor became just as infamous in Cedar Point. Despite the additions of new water rides, enormously popular roller coasters, and thousands of men dressed in cheap pirate Halloween costumes, the 90s are best remembered in Brookwood Gardens as the decade that "smelled like Gene Spearitt."

That's funny how you named it after my game "sugar rush" even though its not a wreck it Ralph reference at all

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This park gives me LOLZ all around!