![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOgli4KY1c05ImBgUT3zf21pBa7ET00JRyrbsfAJgPMF8eODypi7oHvJDOe-beUtxW0SUPlHfar7jb523B_w_K69EsiGJqTZCEB1mpj-XIOTHMCDEzL9mQNslglJl9MV9I9haTGFUuk6U/s320/chuckecheese.jpg)
Dear Chuck,
(Can I call you Chuck?)
Hi. My name is Mr. Brian J. Hough. I'm 30, and I have two little girls who/whom I occasionally bring to your restaurant. I wanted to take the time today to tell you that I find both you and your establishment to be a steaming, pile of crap.
Sweet Baby Jesus, do I loathe you. You are the product of early-90s 'kids think this is cool!' - a panel of marketers who were hoping to tap into the 'hip' kid demographic.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNyaRoSbM5aDXIIDzt6MZxRXsUebxVakVipu9C9JSMJ8xiE5G3ND-Yl-RwlIqvFiP-R6F90H3am0b9pWKm0fsbgzfr6b5elBtucU_yGprBNQRTUlp5ZJknqbALTgsJLDxZr7C5bXC5vHw/s320/Poochie.gif)
Let me explain. Now, I get the perma-grin/glazed-over expression you constantly sport, I do. I have kids, and I know what they do to one's soul. You're a happy-go-lucky mouse, you're constantly having to put on a happy face being around kids - even if you feel like punching the nearest toddler square in the face. It's tough, man - I know.
...but the knee pads and helmet? No, sir - you work indoors. You look like an idiot. If you rollerblade, Chuck, that's fine... I guess (you might be a little old for it, Chuck... its 2010 and nobody really does that anymore except for 8 year old girls at skating rinks).
Damn it, Chuck - you're not rollerblading while you're entertaining. I've been to your restaurant a ton of times, and every time I see you you're either eating pizza, hugging kids, or doing both simultaneously. Do you really need knee pads for that?
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfjGjCVB6HKx2qiq_751TB7KrTOqWdK4BM1jdXY99kz2GcoeQ4mbcciuyvTvfXoSIdbH3CorpunnAGQ3jPdrvLnni5zsPM9QAI9i6vnguRdy8X15GYOSH_ovhZXTjaBsIbROaLPsM3zRA/s320/chuck4.jpg)
You're nine feet tall. Nobody's knocking you down, Chuck. Take off the damn skate gear already.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTtTYEqlH5yKim9OFw_QyAUa9_ceFhgxjMDjhDxTZUChjEgfZvB6dBUK7K4Qxy9qLZlfT5VEiTjEJAo7yNYHThe_PE20qvR-EFTUZxYhxigRKKAKQbuTV6bKlQ7tATzGErKF7QbHSh2yE/s320/Spp_logo.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYyouoPGfNAkkiMmWCCus3H_n2ApWipkOi-Z487SfRNHMkeQyx7xwtL2oYirE5PgL0XwfVTQuVwcPsPdceBpdwRj8aGPOQMnPjJDOT-4lmkmi1bZ7OzAers9wUAf1rgowvVSPP2uEThlI/s320/chuck-e-cheese-bears-Usher-Love-in-This-Club-The-Rock-afire-Explosion.jpg)
More than once I've contemplated strolling up to you and punching you right in the face for this.
You sent a great vaudeville ventriloquist, a good ol' boy (er, bear), and the greatest, hard-rockin' band this side of Electric Mayhem straight to the nearest homeless shelter:
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIoR_8CZ58fR73rqTZUdACNdMWwUPa-nD2GjM4Ay_ngh3RXUXQbeYvqDCiib64dJ2O9tpCM4RLw2lxRKS_0kE0YGPTvSv2-qBngmOsQmTYCuR1y-WlxS-tAiyK_AQY23wXXJ_tXEam7c0/s400/NNVG2799.jpg)
That's right, the Rock-afire Explosion.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJQdmqpsnl3vOrU_iHm031EC43V0nXJE4yiG_RuhJsP2P-YNVwmRbNUhxnqA172r9cOOWSPvX9oiSz225ehvEmJXW_IK6z-E2gAM5RWS2HV7DqAh2GKmZ2qsIuxzpps0Eqly4dGqBBQUc/s320/il_570xN.84748241.jpg)
You ruined lives, Chuck - lots of lives.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkt9sH0JJXfDJkmqU3IIc4eo8n6vk4bfGxohHjsiQVYmUdA3_1sjAIe9VeF6FDiyv_QVg5kT8ThcD4sdwOCLfBP5mHGoSxES8dcbIa5CABzfGPKSvD-6ZERpXuB-zZXtsQX7ICT9SNLC0/s320/bb_original01.jpg)
For shame, Chuck. For shame.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcM5dSSaBYWEXQLSawRwt1Gn079PiF0VFMKYuUUbfOKjBfBuozIvmPKn5SA-r6dWPUKeHoBUHr5oxUzL5HiyQkPSJj4c6MU5EfkOMeOKfsRC9uErWYIE1QMGo6PF00BbapaEXeTvUfIW8/s320/animatedrae.gif)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmpW-3ukeVSNAmpm07JPir1fFgBEwCYBhfOPOjxOeqNLB_RJRqVJ3HaJ8iKCBl5O0e5g7PtR8yOyqqH7EzdODwiQeyv8vcG1aPnFh2mGJVhaPk4CWXhA6ekEPunyZda_3RxdQspv6uAyY/s320/IMAG0025.jpg)
Sure, my kids love your restaurant, but they're also really, really dumb. I mean, collectively, my two kids might be able to match wits with a Golden Retriever (not that one from the Air Bud straight-to-video franchise - he seems like he's got his shit together). I've attached, for your viewing pleasure, some videos that show just how much my kids seem to 'enjoy' your sham pizzeria.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSBezUAQijGNI2DyubgBsWBmyhmay8NemkmQ3We_VbncJDxRHxpr4zVAPMi1ubRbDuWXRFp9lLeRsRt8p03O6NezylVMNWkNptYKXt6OZY6ZA2F4SXELZTP296gbPb-etAj15ELa8uGoU/s320/IMAG0023.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQgFqUQKL2tbkWzb289-AycOHD-jX99hdaufqVCT8GwCkVOYExGBZI0If3QKAaLVz0WV6PqCPh20BT74ql7Myyh2czLhqjR3HvkB80kW5A7K2qvghbx1FxiyRpXxxpdFkfMRoPOcofhh8/s320/IMAG0030.jpg)
Every dad that enters your restaurant requires more than a few drafts to stomach the pure crap you're spewing at their children - lower the prices already.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiSHJfP8dJ9rPf6VpHfIG-Fv4G6-AO3C-mrYm-yDIo1jvWSiIhgzd984-ovZAZ6nPNS5tH68Y5d9ScoYfptBk9KdbTKMe-QyTPVHd8aSq-yxj8OTrSLsvgoo0m1mpTPUpb-ytHwLr4-XM/s320/IMAG0022.jpg)
Disgusted and disgruntled,
Mr. Brian J. Hough
Rockafire Explosion Fan for Life
Rockafire Explosion Fan for Life
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