Though mascots may be cute and fuzzy, you never know what personality may be inside the suit.

I learned this the hard way last weekend.

As promised I arrived in Destin Saturday to spend the Easter holidays with my niece and nephew.

Also, as promised, we all went to Chuck E. Cheese for lunch.

Everything was going well.

My nephew was winning multiple tickets and my niece kept crashing birthday parties to get free cake.

It was a typical Chucky trip.

Then along came the lovable rat. I always get excited when I see a mascot.

For some reason I always feel the need to give them a big hug. The South Alabama Jaguar even knew me by name by the time I graduated.

Usually, my lovable gestures had gone without incident.

That is, until I met Chucky and his "busy hands."

Chucky came bouncing by the table in his typical "happiest rat in the world" fashion.

Of course, I had to jump out of my seat and greet Chucky in the manner he deserved.

Then it happened. While I had Chucky in a death grip spreading the love I felt his grubby paw slide on down.

The next thing I knew Chucky had me in a full-on goose.

Seriously, Chucky grabbed my rump.

My first question was "how do I respond to this?"

Should I make a scene? Should I laugh?

Instead, I went back to my seat like a beaten dog, looked my sister in the face and said "Chucky goosed me!"

I didn't have to worry about making a scene any more. My dear sister did that for me.

She started laughing hysterically and screamed, "You got goosed by Chuck E. Cheese!"

Right about then I had everyone's attention.

I felt dirty and violated.

I was even afraid to go play skeeball because I was afraid that when I bent over to play Chucky would be standing there.

But then I started thinking about it. Chucky is a celebrity. Chucky is adored my millions nationwide.

All of a sudden this put a positive spin on being goosed by a high school girl in a rat suit.

How many people could actually say that one the most beloved figures in all of America had goosed them?

After that I was feeling pretty cool. It was actually a source of pride.

I even told people that I didn't know about my Chucky trip.

My sister started saying something about how hard I was going to be to live with for the rest of the weekend, but I just ignored her.

It all sounded like sour grapes to me.

So once again I have found a way to put a positive spin on what could have been worked out in therapy one day.

If you are ever in Panama City Beach and you happen to stop by Chuck E. Cheese, give Chucky my regards.

But if you plan on giving Chucky a hug be careful. You might get goosed.

Rick Couch may be reached at

383-9302, ext. 132 or

via email at rick. couch@greenvilleadvocate.com.