R ockin’
Robot
Style
By Joe Shearer
Photos provided by
Mike Rippy and
David Ferguson
What are the odds a band that spent years toiling at kids’ birthday parties in a
pizza joint would get a second shot at immortality? Well, if your name is the
Rock-afire Explosion and your members include guitar- and banjo-playing bears,
a cheerleading mouse, a keyboard-playing gorilla, and a ventriloquist wolf,
you have a leg up on the competition when it comes to robot fanatics.
The Rock-afire Explosion is a gang of animatronic rockers who thrilled
kids throughout the 1980s at Showbiz
Pizza Place — the pizza joint-cum-video
arcade-cum robot rock ‘n roll playland.
The band is a childhood legend
for many Gen Xers: Fats Geronimo,
the ivory-tickling gorilla; lead guitarist
Beach Bear; country bear Billy Bob
Brockali (with sidekick Looney Bird in
a nearby oil drum) on banjo; outer-space canine Dook LaRue on drums;
cheerleader mouse Mitzi Mozzarela
providing vocals and moral support;
and stand-up comedian Rolfe
De Wolfe, a wolf who always had his
trusty puppet Earl Schmerle within
arm’s reach.
When Showbiz went the way of
the dodo in the late 1980s, it was
replaced by the more cost-efficient
50 SERVO 10.2009
Chuck E. Cheese brand. It marked a
passage for a generation, a reminder
that the world — for better or worse
— changes.
However, for a small but loyal
group of fans — including 31-year-old
David Ferguson — the birthday party
never ends. Ferguson is one of a
handful of collectors across the country who have taken the ultimate step
in keeping their beloved characters
alive: They own their own complete,
fully-functional robotic rock band,
complete with stage lights, props, and
the various accoutrements to display
and use in their man caves, guest
rooms, basements, or garages.
Ferguson was determined to
get the band back together, and
converted the garage of his otherwise
unassuming suburban Fishers, IN
home into a makeshift stage. The
space has been carpeted and outfitted
with blacklights, transforming it into a
showroom of sorts with toys, photos,
posters, and other memorabilia and
collectibles from the restaurants
adorning the opposite wall.
So, why go to the trouble and
expense of installing them in your
own home when there is a large
supply of reasonable facsimilies in
existing Chuck E. Cheese restaurants?
For many children growing up in
the 80s, Showbiz Pizza Place is something of a Valhalla, a magical place
that holds special memories. Many —
Ferguson among them — were left
cold by the shift from Showbiz to
Chuck E. Cheese, and feel like (as
many do) the original incarnation is
superior to what they feel is the
