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My answer: M A S C O T S. I was terrified of the bastards. They just didn't seem right! I wouldn't let my mother take me to the grocery store for WEEKS before Easter, because I knew there'd be a guy in a creepy, smelly Easter Bunny suit there. And I was petrified of the mascot for the university my mother works at--people kept trying to give me little stuffed animals bearing his unholy visage, and I would flatly refuse them to the giver's face. I was Not About That Shit.