Post by ILaughAtSex on Jul 25, 2004 16:46:54 GMT -5
You know what I miss? Chucke Cheese.
I miss the robots looking around at me while imitating musicians. I miss playing the bad games in order to get the most tickets. Tickets that I use to get cheap generic prizes that cost maybe 60 cents, but I used about 5 dollars worth of tokens to win.
My favorite part of Chucke Cheese was the little playground it has. Hidden deep within the playground was the infamous ball pit. What made these ball pits the most fun was that there was always one kid who would piss you off in there. He would be throwing balls at you or something. Then an epic battle would ensue. Always a fight to the death; never settle for any less.
My parents never understood how I could bust my lip, receive a black eye, and get cuts all over my arms and legs by crawling through the tunnels. They never would have suspected knife fights inside the ball pit. Who would? We would always be long gone with our rubber lizards and already broken slinkys by the time the kid's parents find his body, freshly prepared courtesy Il Macellaio. Rest in peace, fucker.
Ah... those were the days!!
I miss the robots looking around at me while imitating musicians. I miss playing the bad games in order to get the most tickets. Tickets that I use to get cheap generic prizes that cost maybe 60 cents, but I used about 5 dollars worth of tokens to win.
My favorite part of Chucke Cheese was the little playground it has. Hidden deep within the playground was the infamous ball pit. What made these ball pits the most fun was that there was always one kid who would piss you off in there. He would be throwing balls at you or something. Then an epic battle would ensue. Always a fight to the death; never settle for any less.
My parents never understood how I could bust my lip, receive a black eye, and get cuts all over my arms and legs by crawling through the tunnels. They never would have suspected knife fights inside the ball pit. Who would? We would always be long gone with our rubber lizards and already broken slinkys by the time the kid's parents find his body, freshly prepared courtesy Il Macellaio. Rest in peace, fucker.
Ah... those were the days!!
<---- fuck that