Who's The Big Cheese In Town? Chuck E., Of Course

by Beth A. Ostrander

My daughter, the once faithful viewer of children's shows such as the "Teletubbies" and "Sesame Street," turned 8 last March, trading those childlike shows in for Mary Kate & Ashley Olsen's "Two Of a Kind," "That 70s Show" and "Malcolm in the Middle."

Another year has brought me a new daughter. She didn't mind receiving two CDs for her birthday, but complained that neither of them was Kid Rock or Eminem. I told her to wait a year until both of these acts have faded and if she still wanted them, I'll be ready to purchase. Fair enough.

She had a 3-part birthday. A morning riding lesson, which she complained was too cold to do. An afternoon party at home with all her friends with the works: streamers, balloons, cake, prizes, a piŅata, you name it, and then a private party after the party with a few friends at Chuck E. Cheese. I'm not mentioning the sleepover because I've blocked that part of the evening out.

My real mission here is to give all my readers a warning. There's a new don in this town, in every town, and his name is Chuck E. Cheese. For a medium and large pizza, 6 drinks, and a few tokens, the initial bill came to over $50. $50! For that price, I expect the mouse to at least come out, shake hands with my daughter, give me a back rub, pedicure, SOMETHING, but when we finally DO see Chuck E. Cheese, he's a robot. A curtain opens around this stuffed Chuck E. Cheese robot while his mouth opens and closes to familiar new popular songs like "It's Gonna be Me" by *Nsync, but this animated puppet is wailing to "It's Gotta Be Cheese." People kill themselves on days like this. I just know it.

The most amazing part is that the children of all ages gather around him, almost in some type of cult-like trance, trying to crawl up the smooth balcony with barbed wire at the top that surrounds this rodent cyborg screaming, "Go, Chuck E! Go Chuck E!" Then, "Ouch," and "Ow" as they slide back down, banging their heads against it or as they step on the kid next to them trying to form human ladders like African ants ... all to touch the "great and powerful Chuck E. Cheese." I was amazed. I also was the only one yelling, "Look behind the curtain. Remember The Wizard of Oz?? Have you learned nothing from this film?"

Finally, at a "planned time," Chuck E. Cheese himself (17 year old in mouse costume) comes out and starts shaking his tail to and fro to a Happy Birthday song, but not for every table. Chuck E. is too big for that, after all. He stands in front of all the tables and does his pitiful, half-hearted sway with two disgruntled employees in red visors on each side of him, making bored hand gestures, rolling their eyes. You can tell they're real children people. Not! Then my husband asks after I tell him how awful the act is, "How would you feel if your job was to sing with a fake oversized mouse or to BE the fake oversized mouse?" Point taken.

At that age, my part-time job was to watch over a video arcade and swipe as many tokens as possible. I just swiped one here or there to play Joust with. No major crime. Ah, the good life.

Now my children are getting ready to sell pints of blood for more tokens. Everyone gets a good share of tokens compliments of Mommy and after winning tickets, they head to the prize booth and they're happy. They're marching. They have fistfuls of tickets, after all. My son comes back with a 1" plastic airplane. My daughter comes back with a pencil. I ask, "Where's your tickets that are left over?" They both answer, "We traded them in for these." "All your tickets for those???" I shout. "Yes, that's all we could get," they answer unhappily.

I look around for that damned mouse. I want to rip his tail off and at least have a suitable memento for the evening or how about just distracting the kids with the cyborg Chuck E., while I beat on the "real one." He's gone though. He makes a one minute appearance every two hours, no autographs.

Well, geez, why complain? My kid gets a $10 pencil and I get the shaft. Seems like a nice family evening, doesn't it? I suppose if you like bad pizza, narcissistic vermin, and unfriendly staff in red visors, a longer waiting list than at any trendy restaurant in NY, then this is the place for you.

So be warned, parents of the younger generation. This mouse doesn't even talk, but if he could, his puffy cheeks would most definitely say [insert Marlon Brando accent here], "I'm gonna make you an offer you can't refuse. I got this old pizza, see? And some tokens. Now you're gonna buy these, see? Both of them. Your kids are gonna go nuts until you do and when I've broke you and your bank account, you're gonna leave feeling humiliated, defeated, and screwed all at the same time, but I guarantee you'll be back. Ah, life IS a good thing."

Well, maybe he wouldn't say that exactly. Hell, the vermin Cyborg itself looks like one of those fake alligators on a stick we used to buy at the zoo as kids. Chomp chomp chomp ... no real lifelike mouth movement. Kermit the frog is more lifelike. Heck, Al Gore is more lifelike, but I did survive my first experience with the Big Cheese and both my children and I lost not a drop of blood over it. Well, almost no blood over it. My son took a dive in the parking lot as he fell over a pothole and exclaimed, "I hate this place. I don't ever want to come back again." Could this be the voice of reason? Something tells me somewhere behind the curtain, someone was laughing. Of course, I watch "X-Files" and DO believe that "the truth is out there."

In conclusion I leave you with this:

Two pizzas, one medium, one large: $36.99
6 drinks, 2 adult, 4 kids: $10.58
100 tokens: $24.99
Seeing a giant fake mouse shake his bon bon for 100 screaming children: madness.

There are some things in life that money can't buy; for everything else, there's Xanax.

Beth A. Ostrander-Orlosky, Running From Cover, currently resides in a town of about 100 in the western part of NY known as the Switzerland of the states. Yodelers have not yet been spotted, however. She took to writing like a fish to water at three years old and and would write small fairy tales centered around princesses and dragons. The princess always rescued herself. She is a full-time mother of a son and daughter, ages six and seven, who enjoys running, weight lifting, reading the classics, and of course, writing.