Fear the Fredbird Bobblecrotch

Truth fact of today's world: I have a pathological fear of mascots. I weave intricate paths at theme parks to avoid people in furry suits. The Van Damme classic "Sudden Death," which prominently stars the Pittsburgh Penguin's Iceburgh, scares the shiz out of me. And I keep one eye on Truman the Tiger during college basketball games lest I end up the victim of the dreaded headlock-noogie combo. I generally accept that my terror is between me and those f-n Disney World chipmunks who mocked me and my medically prescribed eye patch when I was a lass. But this is too much: The mascots are going after our children, encouraging them to do the pelvic thrust with a Fredbird "bobblebelly" specifically marketed at those 15 and younger.

While most bobbling characters move on a vertical plane, this abomination moves in a somewhat horizontal motion, thrusting his bird junk in a lewd motion likely to confuse and possibly entice America's innocent children. Next you know, junior-high girls are going to be popping out human-mascot hybrid babies. We cannot rest while the mascots lure our children into a life of sin.