Party Pooper

A colleague of Dan's once told of a disturbing incident at Chuck E. Cheese. That area filled knee high with lightweight plastic balls* had to be evacuated because something brown had been spotted among the primary colors. That's right, a turd.

Setting aside the horror of the situation, just think of the logistics for a moment. Did the imp actually disrobe to do the deed, or did the offending matter somehow work its way out a tiny pant leg? Methinks it had to be deliberate. A purposeful act by a very hostile and angry little person, no doubt just warming up for larger acts of vengeance later in life.

But here's what really troubles me: How on earth could they possibly clean hundreds of balls? Even if they had a good system, the work itself would be delegated to (rightfully) resentful teenagers muttering, "Here we go again." Not a recipe for success, if you ask me.

You might think this would be a rare occurrence, but evidently you'd be wrong.

* IKEA calls it the "ballroom." Isn't that cute? I haven't set foot in a Chuck Me Cheese in about three decades, thankfully, so I'm not sure what term they favor.