Chuck E. Cheese’s. A land of not so cheap, cheap-tasting pizza. A land of broken games that eat coins and parents’ hopes of a nice dinner. A land of screaming children begging for more money to earn cheap toys that will be lost in the parking lot. A land of a man in a terrifying mouse costume raging for his next victim, claws drawn and teeth sharp. So that last sentence isn’t entirely true and may be just a little exaggerated.

On a warm Saturday in February, the children’s restaurant was filled to the brink with screaming beasties. My brother, 6 years old at the time, was ecstatic to go to his friend’s birthday party, who was still convinced we lived next door to him at my grandmother’s house, which we moved out of nearly seven months ago. We awkwardly weaved ourselves to the back towards the stage of large, stuffed animals that moved every hour or so to a tune I couldn’t understand. We were met by the wonderful family of the child and before I knew it, my brother had disappeared into the blob of fire and excruciating pain/children.

My parents and I ate pizza while we waited for “birthday hour.” I will say, the food wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t cheap. Children began filling table after table while an overly excited man counted down to the beginning of “birthday hour.” Music began to play, and the human and robotic staff–at least those who acted like they didn’t despise their jobs–began to clap and sing along. Out of nowhere, the beast appeared. He kept his distance at first, but before I knew it, he was bearing down upon the children, claws slashing through the air to an upbeat version of “Happy Birthday.” My brother came running in our direction, ears closed to our questions. It took fewer than two seconds for him to cross the room and crawl under the table to safety. At the sight of a trembling 6 year old hiding under a dirt-ridden table, the birthday boy’s father (a man with long hair, an ear piercing and tattoos) came over and jokingly offered to beat up the beast. My brother hid under the table for at least five minutes, refusing to believe the mouse had moved on.

The beast was actually a person dressed in a mouse costume, which really wasn’t too terrifying. He didn’t have long claws, only fuzzy paws. He didn’t have long, sharp yellow teeth. However, it was an experience I enjoyed (cruel, I know.) My brother will not be celebrating his birthday at Chuck E. Cheese’s any time soon. Chuck E. Cheese’s. Where a kid can be a kid, whether he’s having the best time of his life, or running from an employee dressed in a mouse costume.