Shortly after Disneyland opened, Walt Disney realized that it looked kind of odd when he had cowboys walking through Tomorrowland and astronauts walking through a Renaissance fair. When it came time to build Disney World, he wasn't having none of that shit. Before any of the park pavement went down and before any of the rides went up, Disney had a series of tunnels, dressing rooms and secret doors built first. And everything else went on top.

Kingdom Keepers Wiki
"Disney World is finally complete, the culmination of my life's work oh shit we forgot to build air holes!"

But the fact that you're walking on top of a secret city isn't even the sinister part. If you've ever been to a Disney park, one thing will stand out: It's clean. Thousands and thousands of people are all around you, most of them kids, and there is zero trash on the ground. No sticky gum residue, no used condoms or old panties to be seen anywhere. Everything is clean. Have you guessed why? Because people are popping up out of the ground to clean that shit up, like mole people, quickly disappearing back into their subterranean kingdom with you none the wiser. The only way to figure out where they're coming from is to casually dump a purse full of fingernail clippings on the ground and stand aside to watch what happens.

Now, if you're into totally ruining everything, you can tour the tunnels for a fee. But only if you're 16 or older, because the last thing 14-year-olds need is something else to be cynical about. Just know that you're in for seeing a half-dressed Mickey flirting it up with Ariel while the Mad Hatter pays for his tuna salad in the cafeteria.

Getty
"Hey Dopey, can I bum a smoke?"

Imagine you're enjoying a day with your family at Disneyland and you find yourself at New Orleans Square. As you and your kids argue over which attraction is the New Orleansiest, you notice a nondescript door next to the Blue Bayou Restaurant. That in itself is no big deal ... you see doors all over the Disney kingdoms. It's probably a facade.

Wikipedia
Or a place where children are taken from unattended strollers down to the Utilidors, ne'er to be seen again.

But then you see someone walk up to the door, all stealthy-like, remove a secret panel and press a buzzer. A voice from the interior of the door wants to know the name of the sneaky person and the number in his party. Then the door opens and the person disappears. He's a member of a secret club you'll never ever be invited to join. Club 33.

When Walt Disney designed his park, he realized that his teeny-tiny apartment on Main Street wouldn't be large or roach-free enough to host big-time visitors. So in addition to building a second apartment for himself and his family above the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, he also commissioned a secret VIP lounge for entertaining dignitaries and celebrities. As for the name of the secret club, you could say it was simply the street address on the door, 33 Royal Street. Or you could count up the number of original sponsors that made Disneyland happen and do the conspiratorial math. (It was 33. There were 33 sponsors.)

Disneyland Club 33
"Pay millions of dollars to sponsor a club that only like a hundred people will ever see!"

So how exclusive is this club? Membership is rumored at 500 people. Total. In the world. Sure, you can submit a written application to get on the waiting list, the same list that often goes years without bumping anyone up. But just know that if, by some miracle of the Lord of Disney, you're moved to the top of the list, you should be ready to shell out $25,000 initially, then $10,000 a year for the privilege of just getting in the door.

Once inside the club, as if that will ever happen, you'll find yourself in a restaurant in line with turn-of-the-century French decor, except that the rooms are decorated with actual props and concept art from Disney movies. And antiques selected by Mrs. Disney herself. If, on the other hand, you live the rest of your years as a regular schmuck like the rest of us, just know that people are secretly partying in secret rooms at Disneyland. Oh, and at the California Adventure Park, too. Same deal. You're not invited.

Wikipedia
"Care for some of Jesus Christ's private shiraz, or perhaps a Velociraptor steak?"

Another place you should never expect to visit is the suite in Cinderella Castle at Disney World. Originally intended as (yet another) living space for Walt, the 650-square-foot apartment wasn't finished when Walt died, so it was never actually occupied. Fast forward to 2007 and the Disney company had the amazing idea of refurbishing the suite and granting overnight access to random guests. People. Got to live. In. Cinderella Castle. Overnight.

everythingmouse.com
Once you've banged there, the Mile High Club just seems so lame.

The secret suite is only accessed by a hidden elevator that leads to the fourth floor of the castle. And you can get a reservation by calling 1-800-NOPE. You can't stay there. Jonas Brothers can stay there. But you can't.

If you're riding Pirates of the Caribbean, you might unknowingly get a whiff of sea salt in the air. Or at Spaceship Earth, you'll smell barbeque as a diorama of Rome burns before your eyes. The Haunted Mansion smells musty and earthy, so you won't forget that there's a graveyard right outside the attraction. And Soarin' Over California pumps a faint citrus smell at you as you fly over simulated orange groves.

Just in case you're thinking that those odors are built into the rides, they're not. The Smellitzer uses a series of pumps and vents to launch the smells 200 feet at just the right second. And then an exhaust system sucks the odor out of the room before it interferes with your next sensory experience.

Finding Mickey
This also explains why no one ever seems to fart at Disney.

Oh, and the odor-pumper isn't just limited to immersing you in the rides, either. Walk down Main Street, USA, and you're going to smell freshly baked cookies, whether there are cookies in the oven or not, thanks to the Smellitzer. During the holidays, you might smell peppermint candies being made, or pumpkin spices near Halloween. On Father's Day, you should expect to smell bad cologne and disappointment.

And just so you never ever forget that the Animal Kingdom is 100 percent about the animals, the bark of the tree explicitly reminds you, over 300 times.

wdwinfo.com
It's like being bukkaked with nature.

But here's the catch: The whole thing is constructed from an offshore oil-drilling platform. Which is like secretly using an animal carcass to symbolize your vegan restaurant, except not really, since that sounds like something PETA would totally do.

So how did it happen that the one Disney park dedicated to preserving the earth's animals and resources used an instrument that is associated with endangering animals all over the world? The answer is in the tree itself. Designers knew that they wanted a sculpture that didn't just look like a tree, but acted like a tree. It would have to bend and sway in the wind, and also be strong enough to handle Florida's hurricanes. But instead of a root system anchoring the whole thing to the ground, this tree was going to house a 430-seat theater.

So, the story goes that one of the engineers was watching a documentary on offshore drilling when he realized that an oil platform would be perfect for the Tree of Life: It had a wide base for a theater, a narrow center for a trunk and a wide topside that could support flexible branches. Like this:

land.allears.net
The designer only knew about trees from an uncle's whispered tales of life before Disney sealed Epcot.

Long story short: The Animal Kingdom bought themselves an oil rig and built a tree around it. The video below shows time lapse footage of the whole process:

Which explains why all ocean life has snubbed their invitation to the Animal Kingdom party.

We all know that the entire Disney empire was built on the backs of undocumented laborers and a falsetto-voiced mouse. What you probably didn't know was that when Walt and the team dreamed up Epcot, they initially planned that the whole place would be Mickeyless. Not because they had grown to loathe Walt's most horrible creation, though no one would have blamed them if they had, but because Epcot was supposed to be some kind of future utopia, not another fantasy land for children. In other words, how would adults take Epcot's science-based speculations of a world run by animatronics seriously if a talking rodent was standing alongside them? They wouldn't. So there were only three places at Epcot where you could find Mickey's familiar silhouette: name tags, merchandise price tags and manhole covers (the implication we guess was that Mickey had been banished to the sewers).

There was only one problem. For some Imaginengineerers, a Disney park without Mickey Mouse would be like a face without eyebrows: grotesque. So they sneaked hidden Mickey Mouse ears all over the damn place out of spite. So, for example, while riding the Spaceship Earth attraction that presents the history of human communication, you probably wouldn't have noticed these scrolls forming the shape of Mickey's head:

mickeyheads.com
In those scrolls lie the secret to permanently banishing him from our realm.

And you probably wouldn't have seen the paint rings left by the artists in the Renaissance section:

mickeyheads.com

But there they are, plain as day. Here's one at the Canada pavilion:

Wikipedia
Each one also symbolizes a person who was killed for defying Walt.

See it? It's painted blue, under the arm.

Eventually, even the designers in the Mickey-sanctioned parks wanted to get in on the fun, so hidden Mickeys started popping up everywhere. At least a thousand hidden Mickeys have been reported throughout the parks, and the people who are actually looking for them are nuts. They've written books and devoted websites to the world's least rewarding scavenger hunt.

By the way, Mickey isn't the only creature lurking in the shadows of the park. Every now and then a new ride will replace an old favorite, but Imagineers don't want to pretend that the old one never existed. So they'll leave a remnant as a quiet nod to times gone by. It sounds sweet until you're on the New Winnie the Pooh ride and turn around to see three mounted animal heads staring lifelessly into the dark abyss.

yesterland.com
"Liberate tutemet ... ex inferis ..."

It turns out that the new Winnie the Pooh ride replaced the old Country Bear Jamboree, and Max, Buff and Melvin were too beloved for the dump. So they were placed in a spot that you'd have to literally turn around in your seat to view. Look at their faces. They're going to eat you.

You can send Gabriel an email at czukori@yahoo.com or check out his friends' band The Ranks here

For more easter eggs that will make you crap your drawers, check out 10 Mind-Blowing Easter Eggs Hidden in Famous Albums and 7 Creepy Video Game Easter Eggs You'll Wish Were Never Found.

If you're pressed for time and just looking for a quick fix, then check out 5 Famous Movie Sets That Might Be in Your Neighborhood.

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