Serial Thriller Six Flags Astroworld August 15th, 1999 S T A T S Manufacturer: Vekoma Height: 102 ft. Extreme elements: ten-story drop, five inversions Length of ride: 1 minute and 50 seconds Novelty: Only Vekoma SLC coaster in the southwest

A brief requiem for Dexter Frebish.

I'm not exactly sure who the guy was, but he had a little Arrow Development runaway mine train named after him for some time in the early 70's, though it was re-named Excalibur after a while. But that's all ancient history at Astroworld now, because the little mine train that could is no more. Now, it's the little mind-trip that probably will. Just what it will probably do is what you'll have to find out when taking a trip aboard the brand-new Serial Thriller, a coaster that bears only a passing resemblance to its distant cousin, The Great Nor'easter up in New Jersey. This little invention has a few wicked twists of its own, spelled out in blood-red track right near the park's already famous free-fall fear, Dungeon Drop.

Planted on a small footprint of land, the shiny new terror boasts Vekoma's unique trains that seat 20 passengers each, two across. This is a physical factor that certainly effects what you feel and how you feel it while zipping through the course at 55 m.p.h. With feet a-dangling and a narrower coaster chassis, dare I say it if every element of this ride doesn't feel just a little bit more personal. The Dutch company has a semi-bad rap for designing coasters that are marvelous to look at, but painful to ride--and signs warning to "remove all earrings" certainly had me peering at passing trains to survey whether the grimaces on rider's faces were out of fright or fractured earlobes. Surprisingly enough, this cunning chiller is smooth and graceful while it delivers some heart-stopping elements.

The first of which is that first drop. After climbing to a height of 102 feet, the trains pull rapidly towards the ground in a tight right turn. Leaving little clearance for dangling tootsies, the cars then rocket straight up into a 360 degree roll-over loop and spiral combination that looks a little like a heart-shape, depending on which angle you view it from. When you're all up inside of it, you'll think it's hellacious-shaped, most-likely. Then, there's a neatly swooping move that garners some serious air-time before the tracks send you down towards the Earth again next to the station. Part coaster. Part lawn-mower, this one. Schweep! Rocketing up and flipping over into a sidewinding element and then making some haste around a quick turn before slamming riders through a wicked double spiral that slips in between the supports like a scene out of Star Wars.

The ride can't resist one last huzzah, a bit of air-time on a camel-hump rise and then you're into the brakes. It all takes a little under a minute and for once on a Vekoma coaster, the back-seat didn't leave me wishing for a Double Van Gogh. Unfortunately, they were only running one train and the line had grown to such a length that a second trip was pre-emptive. In fact, this was the only rollercoaster out of 11 in the park that seemed to be mobbed with people. On its final seasonal operation day, we were happy to find a kinder, cooler Texas than what greeted us back in '96--and a lot less crowded. Our contact person, Julie Imrek, had high praise for the new coaster--but she encouraged us to try out another fairly new steel threat that had debuted since our last visit. Highly encouraged us, indicating that she was a fan of this particular beast. It certainly looked ominous as we walked into the Mexicana section of the park and like the Warner Brothers character that inspired it, The Texas Tornado was about to show us a Tasmanian Devil of a good time.