He can’t shine the spotlights or change the gels. He can’t pace the catwalk on a “Little Women” showday, work the boards or program any cues.

Still, when the curtain closed on Community’s winter production, one name stood out on the crew list—Gus.

He’s new to the crew this year—popular, a sharp dresser and, suprisingly, bilingual. 

After he seemed to “show up out of nowhere,”according to theatre director Ms. Cassie Adelman, he quickly became a beloved figure in the theatre program.

Gus—a plush Minion adopted by the tech crew—may not fit the mold of a typical stagehand, but he’s now the program’s official mascot, starring in headshots, running his own Instagram page and securing his name in the playbill.

It all started with a routine prop crew mission: head to Meijer to find a severed hand for “Peter and the Starcatcher.”

But junior Jude Hooten took an unexpected detour.

“You’ve got to go down the toy aisle when you’re going into a store,” Hooten said.

And that’s where he found the newest, smallest—and yellowest—member of the crew.

Twenty dollars later, Hooten was en route to the Kevin Yale Vernon Auditorium, eager to introduce Gus—his name printed on his tag—to the rest of the cast and crew.

“They came back with some options [for props],” Adelman said, “and Gus.”

Her first question? “That’s not on the reimbursement receipts, right?”

Gallery • 4 Photos

When junior Jude Hooten saw the plushie from his favorite movie—a quality find with a weighted bottom—sitting in the Meijer toy aisle, he knew he had to buy it. From there, came a memorable impact on the theatre program. "They say first impressions are important," Hooten said, recalling the day Gus entered his life. Photo Courtesy of: Jude Hooten

Gus, however, has proven priceless and popular. 

“I just started bringing him up to people,” Hooten said. “‘This is Gus. This is my Minion.’”

“He basically took over my whole personality at that point,” Hooten said. “I was basically Gus.”

Gus became a fixture at rehearsals for “Peter and the Starcatcher,” catching the attention of light crew head Adam Dunn—who first encountered the minion in mid-air.

“I kind of found him in the air,” Dunn said, as Gus was being thrown through the air from crew member to crew member. 

That chance encounter turned into a professional partnership when Dunn sifted through student applications for the “Little Women” crew—and spotted a familiar name.

Hooten had filled out an application for Gus.

“I thought it would be funny,” he said.

Listed on the application: Special Skills: Bilingualism. Experience: One semester. 

Hooten never expected anything to come from the joke. 

“I didn’t think [anything] was gonna happen,” he said.

But the joke was on him. 

Dunn saw potential.

Bilingualism? Dunn thought, that’s just what the crew needed. 

The junior made the decision official via text. 

Adam “sent me a picture of Gus,” Hooten said, an image accompanied by four simple words. 

The message? Four words: I own him now.

Stage manager Emily Hudelson cemented Gus’s status, adding “Gus the Minion” to the crew list.

At first, Adelman thought it was a joke.

“I was like, ‘Oh, that’s funny. Haha,’” the first-year director said. 

But the crew was adamant this was more than a joke. 

“They were like, ‘no, please let him on,’” Adelman said.

She gave in.

Gus is just the latest in a long line of inside jokes and theatre traditions. He’s another one of the things, Adelman said, that “add[s] to the fun of theater.” 

To the uninitiated, theatre can seem like a cult—rituals, superstitions and an unshakable commitment to the bit.

Long hours in the auditorium, pre-show chants and a deep respect for the ghost light–and it’s easy to see why theatre’s devotion looks a little intense. But for those in the cast and crew, these quirks aren’t just habits—they’re what make the long days worth it.

“We constantly joke,” Adelman said, “‘We are not a cult.’” 

“It’s not a cult, but we do have a culture.”

A culture where the first dress rehearsal is Taco Bell night. 

Before they take the stage, Adelman said, the cast and crew have Taco Bell–a pre-show meal and a metaphor. 

At first dress, Adelman said, traditionally performers “kind of crap themselves on stage.” 

Taco Bell night means permission to fail, to flub lines and miss cues–and to move forward. 

“We get it out of our system,” Adelman said. 

Theatre has a culture.  

Second dress is comfort night–the preshow meal chicken nuggets and mac and cheese. Stuffed animals fill the auditorium seats–“The Professor,” “Frog and Toad,” “Carlsbad,” “Trunkmonster” and the entire Super Mario collection watch over the stage. 

It’s a night, Adelman said, that gives the cast and crew “something positive,” “something to look forward to.” 

“We’ve got our supporters out there,” Adelman said. “We had probably 100 stuffed animals in the auditorium. It was very sweet.”

Unlike traditions inherited from former director Mrs. Kevin Yale Vernon’s 21-year tenure—like a ghost light glowing in every auditorium—these are uniquely Adelman’s.

“We’ve got fun jokes. We’ve got a mascot we care about,” she said. “We’ve got things that unite us and make theater fun and communal.”

The only real challenge, Adelman said, is the occasional communication issue.

“There’s a little bit of a language barrier” between Gus and the rest of the crew, she said. “We[’re trying] to pick up a little bit of Minion-ese.”