Happy hour at the Lost Dutchman saloon
After the mine car climbs the short hill and passes the blacksmith shop, it turns right again and passes by the old fashioned outhouse standing in the graveyard. The door creaks open a few inches to reveal a skeleton inside. A voice emanating from inside is heard to complain, "What is this, Grand Central Station? A feller can't have no privacy around here no more." The car then returns to the interior of the mine and travels through the saloon, where the spectral miners go to blow off a little steam after a hard day of swinging a pick. In the foreground sits the piano player (animated to tickle the ivories), smoking a cigar. Directly behind him is an apparently irate patron who suddenly decides to strike the bartender over the head with a bottle. The bartender, in the black vest, recoils in surprise. Notice how his eyes are glowing eerily. To their right is a female barfly in a festive hat, holding a bottle in her right hand, with her legs dangling off the bar and on top of another inebriated patron. This poor fellow is slumped way down with his right foot hoisted on his barstool and desperately clinging to another bottle on the bar with his right hand. The sounds of honky-tonk music regale the passengers as they ride past the ghostly debauchery to the final exit and back to the loading platform to disembark the ride.