Friday, September 16, 2011

Dragon*Con 2011 – Part 7 - Saturday Night

Also Day 2
We have this thing worked out where Mrs. Troublemaker catches a ride down on Saturday night. She understands that I have nerd stuff to do all weekend and am a little too absent-minded to do simple things like remember to drive out to the house and get her. Just like I understand that she attended many years of Dragon*Con in a row as a dealer and does not have the love (or patience) for the Con and its denizens that I do. So she comes down for a few hours on Saturday night, gets plastered, takes some pictures and leaves before she can punch any annoying Jedi in the face and get us all thrown out. It works for everybody.

I jumped in the shower and put the jumpsuit back on – debating over which mask to wear. I figured with a whole new costume on my body it was okay to wear the standard mask. I almost went with the silver, but I’m glad I didn’t.
Evil and Lady Evil met me at my room and we headed to the Marriot.
Somehow I failed to take even one good picture of these guys:
I’m fairly certain they would refer to themselves as “Daft Steampunk”; and while I like punks neither steam nor daft I have to admit they looked pretty cool and it was a clever concept.
Mrs. Troublemaker eventually showed up and took some lovely pictures:

And cost me a small fortune in beer money. I clung desperately to the last couple in my beer bag out of fear of a dry night after she left. That woman can put down some brews.
You see a whole lot of variations on Joker and Harley Quinn at Dragon*Con. Hell, you see a lot of variations on them everywhere – DeviantArt, ComicsAlliance, porn sites. But on one particular trip escorting my lady to the facilities we ran into the very best Joker and Harley I have ever seen:
Granted, it’s a matter of personal preference, but I don’t see how you could argue with the quality of these Animated Series-inspired costumes. Awesome.
I also really dug these guys:
Lots of creativity going on there. While Ghostbusters costumes have gotten really common (and stale) over the past few years, all four of these guys made me excited to take a picture.
I mentioned this over on my Facebook page, but I saw several of these guys over the weekend and called them all Orko. They hate that.
And then there’s this guy:
You can’t read the sign in my shitty picture, but the gist is that he’s looking for a thin, blonde, subservient woman without any emotional baggage to make some time with. And he’s totally serious. Naturally this raises the question, “Do they have to be naturally blonde?” Because I had seen a young lady wearing little more than a wide scarf that looked to be well within this guy’s means, but sadly she was a brunette. We all wanted to know if a little dye job would meet this guy’s lofty standards.
So I went and asked him.
Me – “Hey, man! About the blonde thing – does it matter if she’s natural?”
Pathetic Guy – “Uh, I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it. I guess not”
Me – “Oh, I just figured if you made a sign that detailed you would have considered it. Well look man, anybody can be blonde and there’s this chick over there…”
At this point I looked around and the young lady I had in mind for this gentleman had disappeared.
Me – “Shit. I don’t see her now. But man, we’re going to hook you up. We are going to help you. We’re going to find her and make magic happen just for you because this is fucking Dragon*Con, man. She’s this half naked chick that I think would totally go for your sign there.”
Pathetic Guy – “Oh, uh, yeah. I saw her.”
Me – “Yeah, man! We’ll find her – don’t you worry! We’re going to make it happen!”
That may not have been an exact word-for-word account of our conversation, but I swear to you it’s pretty darn close. Buy the time I got back over to the gang Pathetic Guy had disappeared. I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t want my help.
I’d really like to see the Disney Store staff when these guys bought their costumes. And I really hope they did it at the same time.
I just want to say that this Adora looked better than any She-Ra I saw all weekend.
I don’t know what I was trying to get a picture of here, but I ended up with a row of four asses. Kind of like a full house of hiney.
And then this thing started happening. I didn’t catch the beginning, but it had already escalated to this level by the time I became aware of the situation. I am not always totally aware of what’s going on around me at Dragon*Con, but when a struggle breaks out you kind of notice. The situation was none of my business, but when you see somebody being assaulted or touched in any way against their will you just have to do something, you know? And if I learned anything from reading all those Spider-Man comics, it’s this: When you see something happening you need to take action and do what’s right. So I took a picture:
Just like Spidey would.
I’m even using it in a news article.
Can’t we all just get along - beard on beard violence! Or is it passion…?
Cont’d pp. 46
See? Just like a real newspaper!
Okay, so Evil found a game to play Saturday night. It wasn’t as funny as GoggleQuest 2010 or as scandalous as the other thing I can’t talk about, but it seemed funny at the time:
He ran up to people who weren’t in costumes at all and acted really excited about getting his picture with them. I know the pictures themselves aren’t that hilarious, but man – it was funny as shit to see in person. This is one of those instances where I should have gotten video. I guarantee it would’ve been a YouTube Vimeo classic (I’ll get into the whole YouTube vs Vimeo thing at a later date, but you’ll notice my Sylvester McCoy videos are on Vimeo).
Here’s some more!:

Okay, I had this plan to do karaoke this year. We came across one of the little sidebars in the Hilton last year where they have a small but intense karaoke session. This year we went there a little bit earlier and I was really hoping to get a song in. I’ve got one picked out and everything (you’re going to have to wait until next year I guess), but we were once again too late. The guy said they stopped taking submissions at 10:30. I don’t know about you, but I’m not usually drunk enough by then to think karaoke is a good idea. Not even at Dragon*Con.
You know who is that drunk that early, though? So drunk that they pass out by the time we get there?
Christopher Lloyd, that’s who.
So, naturally being kind and decent human beings we kept an eye on the guy and made sure nobody fucked with him until his handlers came and walked him off.
HA! I’m just kidding. We all totally got our pictures taken with passed out Doc Brown.
And this lady rocked the fuck out:
I don’t remember what she sang or anything, but it was so good I’ve felt the need to point it out every opportunity I’ve had.
And then I saw this dude. He was standing there chatting up these two ladies – one in a sexy little devil outfit and one in a sexy little angel outfit. For reasons that I cannot even begin to guess at I walked over to the three of them and said, “Hey man, you look like the kind of dude that would have no problem at all doing a bunch of push-ups with two hot ladies sitting on your back.”
I don’t remember what his response was or what the two ladies’ response was but this happened:

Phantom Troublemaker? More like Phantom Magicmaker.
And then Chris Gautier totally owned some Sabbath:
And we went to a rave.
And Gnoll fell asleep
And woke back up
And Evil laughed at some whores right before they got thrown out
And then another rave
Where we found the only guy on the planet who would still wear a Reel Big fish shirt in public
After all that we were pretty hungry, so we thought we’d once again attempt to have some breakfast at the Metro Diner.
Gnoll and Beth Van D and I had tried a couple of years ago, but I got so impatient I had to leave. I can’t be waiting around thirty minutes for a patty melt, man. Unless, of course, it’s 2011.
It was probably about 4 AM when we hit the Metro and Evil was in pretty bad shape. Heck, we were all in pretty bad shape. But nobody else fell asleep on the table. I’m truly sorry I don’t have a single damn picture from our Metro adventures. It’s one of those times where I just don’t know what was wrong with me. Scratch that – I know exactly what was wrong with me. I was tired and drunk and hungry. Pictures were not at the forefront of my mind. And honestly there wasn’t much about our Metro dining experience that warranted documenting. Except, of course, for the World’s Best Waiter – Wilhelm.
To be fair to Wilhelm before I go into this; he is not from our country. He is from a country that is presumably unfamiliar with strange American customs like taking orders, giving orders to cooks, bringing orders to the table or refilling beverages.
To be fair to Evil, he did not fall asleep from being drunk. He fell asleep because he was so tired of waiting for our fucking food. Evil had already purged his engine once and was ready for more. The dude is a MAN. He literally was just so exhausted by Wilhelm’s ineptitude he literally collapsed on the table. Believe me, we all knew how he felt. It was down to me, Evil, Lady Evil, The Big Guy and Gnoll at that point and we were all pretty wrecked. I was proud of our little crew for hanging in there, though. All too often it comes down to me and Evil or me and Gnoll and the rest just can’t hang.
Actually, The Big Guy gets Man of the Con for 2011 because he went home around 5 AM one morning and was back and ready to go by 11. That’s just not natural.
So anyway, back to Wilhelm the Great. He introduced himself and right off the bat asked us to cut him some slack because he was new. I figured we might get some mixed up orders or he’d bring tea instead of Diet Coke. Ha ha. He took our orders and Lord knows what he did with them afterwards but they certainly didn’t go to the kitchen. I don’t know if maybe he had to run across the street and buy some crack or maybe go knit a sweater or something, but it was a long time before we saw Wilhelm the Great again. It must’ve taken that guy half an hour just to get our drinks. We had plenty of time to contemplate life, the universe and everything. Or take a nap.
Once every single other table in the restaurant had been served – including, oddly, people that didn’t even come in until after we left – Wilhelm finally returned. He looked exhausted. In my mind, Wilhelm had taken our orders, then decided that no ordinary Metro Diner food would be good enough for our table of mighty partiers. No, he would travel to his homeland of Muntania and have his very own mother cook up our patty melts and scrambled eggs. By motorcycle, then sled dog then dirigible he traveled across the continents to fetch us our repast. And we were so ungrateful as to be irritated about the wait.
But seriously – our food took a long fucking time. Like, at least forty-five minutes. But the food was darn tasty. We’ll be back. And if fate has her fickle way, so will Wilhelm the Great.
With our appetites thusly sated, we decided it was time to call it a night and return to our respective rooms. We gathered ourselves the best we could and headed toward the Marriot and found our old pal and Honorary DCW Hooligan Awesome Austin Creed who annually misplaces his trousers
And if that’s not a good way to end this post I don’t know what is. I’ll be back Monday for the final day and then Tuesday for my extra-special review of the Late Night Puppet Slam!
Until next time, stay creepy

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