A man just chased after me revving up the motor of a real chainsaw. A real chainsaw.
Little girl twins just spoke to me in harmony. Both were speaking the words at exactly the same time as they chanted and giggled about how they’d just killed Daddy, and asked if I wanted to play.
I struggled through darkly lit passages, some of which got smaller and closed in on me, as menacing laughter, banging and shrieks from the darkness were followed by oddly damaged people thrusting their face in front of my face.
The attacks were relentless.
I looked to my gloriously wonderful partner in order to use her as a human shield, but she was far too busy screaming at the top of her voice and trying to use me as a human shield. Hmmm. The priority as to who should be the human shield needs to be ironed out in our relationship.
We were experiencing the evil depravity that nightly takes over a farm in Lancashire. By day, the farm, known as “Farmer Ted’s” is the ideal place to take children. There’s plenty of lovely fluffy animals to pet, and lots for the kids to do and get involved in, plus of course, food and drink and play areas, and even actual reindeers and a Father Christmas grotto.
But, then it gets dark. The lovely furry animals slink away and hide, and Father Christmas moves to a safe house.
Farmer Ted’s is hurriedly closed for the day.
Out come all the ghouls and grotesque barely alive humans and not-so-humans. Their job is to scare all the normal humans away.
To make the whole situation a lot worse, us victims pay for the experience. It only happens for just over a month every year and it’s called Farmageddon.
Yes, Farmageddon. This is when victims, er, I meant visitors, can attempt to walk through a number of different farm houses. There’s the ‘Terror on the Farm’, ‘Psychosis’ and the newly opened ‘Meat Locker’.
For some illogical reason visitors volunteer to get through each of them and to come out … alive.
Apparently, if you can hear the screaming, you are still alive.
Man, I heard some screaming. Not from me, honest. I certainly would never scream. I’m far far too brave.
But, what brilliant fun the whole thing was.
It’s a shame it’s only for one month each year.
England's England 