Besides spiders, there is not much I fear. Not dying.

Not even Death.

No, the only other thing I fear is a mouse, and his cheese.

Chuck E. Cheese’s, the arcade with games, pizza (which is actually really tasty), and other popular diversions for America’s youth, included such perceived delights as ball pits, skee-ball, and air hockey. I’m sure at least 90% of you have celebrated a birthday at one of these places once in your miserable lives. Possibly, this took place at either a malleable tender age, or as an irony loving’ teen.

Its logo and mascot was and is a giant anthropomorphic rat of evil and hate named Chuck E. Cheese. However often, individual locations will employ someone to dress as this character wearing a full-body costume. Which means, your kids are being willingly Pied Pipered into a depraved house of:

God damned furries!

The business was founded in 1977 by Atari founder Nolan Bushnell as the Chuck E. Cheese’s Pizza Time Theatre, and featured animatronic characters, such as Crusty the Cat, Jasper T. Jowls, and the Warblettes performing with Chuck E. in a “theater” where customers could eat their pizza. And have nightmares later from the horrors held within. Too afraid to swallow their pizza and their shame.

Once, when I was around the magical age of five, I was invited to attend a birthday celebration for my childhood friend whom had a birthday three calendar days after my own. So, giving our mothers a chance to half-ass it, a joint birthday party was planned of which meant I was co-child of honor.

I went into this promised house of fun and games and was greeted by the terror himself, Chuck. I knew then I would be lucky if I made it out alive and, as the evil fates would have it, I almost didn’t. Upon letting loose and deciding I no longer wanted to have the animatronic animal atrocities to produce life-long nightmares and scars, and as it was my party and I could die if I wanted to, I decided to play in the vaunted ball pit.

I gleefully hoped in and thrashed about with my youthful cohorts until, tragedy! I began to sink. I was terrified. I was about to die, drowned in the pit of a Chuck E. Cheese’s horrific balls. I didn’t realize how pitiful of a predicament I was in, of course. I was 5. Fuck you. However, I was sinking in a fucking pit of plastic balls with a giant creepy rat looking on and all those around me were willing to do was laugh and rain more spherical death upon me.

It looked a little like this:

Luckily, for me, and you all, as I likely wouldn’t be here making this entry nor any other nuggets of genius forever more, the mother of the child whom I shared a party dived in to save me as I went under to my once thought early grave. After I was pulled out I likely ate a shit load of cake and pizza and didn’t think much about it all. But I remember it, now. Oh yes. And my life has been haunted by these memories forever.

I can’t wait to take Fittz the next generation to one of these places…