Read time: 6 min.

I discovered pizza robots when I was seven or eight and whipsawed back into the fandom in my twenties. It wasn’t long before I lucked into a robot of my own! Billy Bob of the New Rock-afire Explosion spent two decades in a trailer and was mechanically sound. Turns out, he spoiled me: after I bought another, I realized that Fatz may never perform again- at least as long as I own him.

You might not know them by name, but I’m sure you remember pizza robots, those animatronic avatars that danced and sang before a piping-hot pie arrived at your family’s table. Here’s the final part of a surprisingly lengthy series of how I came to be one of the few who have their own.

In 2019, my friends bought seventeen abandoned pizza robots from Odyssey Fun World near Chicago. It took a collaborative effort, but my Billy Bob was one of the first to come back to life. Soon, I bought Fatz Geronimo, the leader of the Rock-afire Explosion. I commissioned a new mask, purchased a replacement jacket, then aired him up for the first time. Unfortunately…crickets.

I’m kidding- there’s no way I could have heard crickets through the roar. Fatz wasn’t just leaking: the air rushing through his ruptured pneumatics sounded like Niagara Falls! I checked the connections through the din. Fatz’s valve banks were hooked up to the airline properly and the flow controls were in line, but the plumbing harnesses had blown apart in the initial surge of air!

At least it was an easy fix. I reconnected everything and resumed the “Goofy Birthday” show from the Gold Collection on my laptop. Unfortunately, it became clear that, even with 80 psi coursing through his cylinders and actuators, Fatz still didn’t want to move. I’d have known this if I’d manually tested his valve overrides with a screwdriver first, but I was impatient.

I pulled out the screwdriver. I knew from Billy Bob that all but three of the “New” Rock-afire Explosion robots feature twenty different pneumatic movements. Unfortunately, Fatz was down to numbers 2, 6, 9, 10, and 13- lip, right wrist, right arm raise, right shoulder raise, and left arm twist. A sixth movement – #19, body tilt right- worked too, but the plastic hip joint the pancake cylinder mounted to was cracked. The piston worked, but Fatz wouldn’t turn.

Fatz’s condition was disappointing, but it wasn’t insurmountable. After all, I’d rebuilt Billy Bob’s entire arm, replaced and refurbished cylinders, and re-plumbed what felt like miles of airlines. With a 3D printer that could churn out an endless supply of hip joints, I had everything I needed to whip him into shape! Unfortunately, I soon found that I no longer had the time.

Things at work changed just after I got Fatz. I was drafted into supervising production on top of my twelve-hour days as the factory quality analyst. Longer days with more responsibilities led to eighty-hour weeks. All the overtime pay meant I could have replaced all of Fatz’s cylinders and bought a third robot, but I was burning out. The slog was endless. I was miserable.

I eventually found another job with a better schedule. I meant to work on Fatz with all my newfound time, but I fell back into other interests. In terms of availability, I was back to square one! I’m a little ashamed to say that aside from his mask and jacket, Fatz remains much the same as he did before I bought him. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m okay with that. I must have really matured over the past five years.

When I first got Billy Bob, I did everything I could to make incremental progress in restoring him with a bicycle pump, my trusty screwdriver, and other limited resources. As one of a handful of people with their own personal pizza robot, I felt duty-bound to get him back up and running. I stopped at nothing to preserve my piece of Rock-afire Explosion history any way I could, especially by sharing his performances with my friends!

Unfortunately, that hasn’t happened as much as I’d have liked. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s fair for me to keep Billy Bob and Fatz or if I should pass them on for a new fan to steward. After all, I’m too young to remember the Rock-afire Explosion’s heydey, but I’m too old to have jumped on the Five Nights at Freddy’s train that brought pizza robots back into the public eye. In the right hands, I think both of my robots could be doing a lot more than they are today.

Until now, though, my hands have been the right ones- at least when they’re unoccupied with other projects. The day will come when I prioritize the robots again, but I still get occasional messages from people looking to buy Billy Bob and Fatz. I always demur- pizza robots don’t grow on trees, after all, and I’m still beguiled by a certain scientist bird drunk on corn squeezin’s. I”d hate to rebuild my menagerie from scratch!

It may not look like it, but Billy Bob and Fatz have come a long way since I dug them out of a jumble of broken parts on the Odyssey Fun World stage. I’m proud they were saved, I’m satisfied with the work I’ve done so far, and I’m still amazed at their presence in my life. It’s been twenty-five years since I first encountered them and there’s still work to be done on my own, but that’s how I got into pizza robots.

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