I will forever be haunted by Chuck-E-Cheese and his gang of anthropomorphic beasts.
I was five years old, and it was my neighbor's birthday. He was turning seven years old, which meant that a birthday party was big deal. There were tons of places to hold a birthday bash, but for some reason, the hot place of the moment was at Chuck-E-Cheese, where “a kid can be a kid.” I forwent attending the entirety of the party, and ended up arriving just as the pizza was being served (convenient). This also happened to be the climax of the event- the moment when the stage came to life and Chuck-E-Cheese and the crew sang “Happy Birthday,” whilst dancing and playing an arbitrary arrangement of musical instruments.
It was unsettling to say the least.
The monstrous mascots abruptly came to life. My eyes were met with creatures who sought to be humanoid in form, but had palpably jagged and irregular movements. Their heads turned back and forth too frequently, and they blinked in a manner too slow to be reassuring. Their lip-syncing abilities were comparable to Ashlee Simpson on Saturday Night Live. And let’s not forget just who I was looking at up on that stage- “Munch’s Make-Believe Band”. A rat, a duck, a dinosaur, a dog, and an Italian pizza chef
Of course not. So my best bet was to hide under the tables, and hope that the jungle of children’s swinging legs would shelter me. It worked in the short run, but Chuck was not going to give up easy.
It all happened in slow motion. Two chairs were pulled out from the table. One matted gray knee bent down, followed shortly after by the second. Two paws were set on the floor. Chuck E. Cheese’s monstrous head emerged beneath the table, his eyes burning devilishly red, and a smirk skittering across his wicked face. (Maybe that was how he appeared in my nightmare later that night). He was wheedling me, trying to get me out from under the table.
“Don’t be afraid,” he cooed in his morbid rodent voice. “I just want a hug.”
Tears streamed down my horrified face and shrills of terror broke apart the young, cheerful chatter and laughter happening around me.
I couldn’t believe it myself. I was being tormented by Chuck E. Cheese.
So I have come to the conclusion: robots are not humans. And oversized rat robots are not amusing.
There is something entirely wrong with humammalosuar robots (human/mammal/dinosaur hybrids) talking, singing, dancing, and functioning in any other way an actual human being would. It is especially wrong that these things are meant to entertain children. What kind of sick parent would want their child to celebrate a birthday or other joyous occasion in the presence of these mechanical monsters?
pizza chef. All bearing human clothing and accesories. All sized equally to the lone human on the stage “Pasqually E. Pieplate” but greater in size than that of an actual human being. Rats aren’t even close in size to a human, and to make it so that if one was was appealing is wrong. It’s unnatural, it’s weird, it’s flat-out disturbing. I mean really why would anyone want to get a hug from an oversized rat?!
But it didn’t stop there.
No, they don’t just stay up on the stage, the come to life in the form of costumed beings (whoever lurks behind those screen covered eyes must be sick in order to possess the mindset to find this as a source of childhood entertainment).
I was scared stiff from the appalling animatronics when up out of the blue comes this oversized rat, arms extended, wanting me to give him a nice, warm hug. Like, really? You think I am going to run to you for comfort?
""My eyes
were met with creatures who saught to be humanoid in form"