This guy needs replacing? Why?
GateHouse — I was in a Chuck E. Cheese one time, once, for a birthday party for the son of a friend we no longer talk to because he held his kid’s birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese.
This was years ago, before I knew precisely what the phrase “having kids” truly meant, before I realized you could wiggle your way out of birthday parties at the last minute (if I ever tell you “the baby has an ear infection,” I am lying to your face), before I fully appreciated that “being a parent” meant “benefiting from astronomical, near-miraculous odds to be born at this age, in this time, and then burning the impossibly precious gift of life in a windowless hellscape filled with shrieking and pepperoni and aging robot mice who sing Beach Boys songs.”
In that few hours, I learned a lot of things about both Chuck E. Cheese and pain, mostly pain. But joking about that is silly, because that is the POINT of Chuck E. Cheese, that it makes you want to invent a way to beat yourself into unconsciousness with breadsticks and everyone knows it, but ugh “the kids like it” or whatever so you do it, because who needs $400 anyway?
Well, I’ve got news: Things are about to change. Get ready to forget everything you knew about Chuck E. Cheese. Well, except that part about the loudness, and the shrieking. And the wanting to brain yourself with breadsticks. And the dead-eyed robots singing iconic 1960s surf songs you know what, whatever, just remember everything but the mascot.
Chuck E. Cheese announced last week that it’s replacing its signature mouse, rebooting Chuck, re-mousening its brand, feeling that the current rodent is too outdated, because when your business plan involves group-plumpening kids by the dozens and then plugging their brains into shooting games, you want to stay current. According to the AP, Chuck E. Cheese’s parent company, which goes by the decidedly less funtacular name of CEC Entertainment, Inc., is launching a new campaign featuring, and I’ll just quote this because there’s really no way to improve upon its awesome: “a revamped image of Chuck E. Cheese as a hip, electric-guitar-playing rock star.” I will now pause to let this amazingly marketed horror of that sentence sink in for a minute, while I play some skeeball.