No Brand Con 2009

Friday | Fri/Sat | Masquerade | Sat. Night | Sunday

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As soon as the masquerade wrapped up, we were back onboard the HMS Badger to discover the true culprit, method and motive. And maybe to pet the cat again.

Saturday Night
Ludicrous Speed

Scott already took home some hardware- a Best Steampunk-themed cosplay.

We didn't win anything. Although we had the spider poison correct (Evan intentionally stuck his finger into the poisoned drink to make sure), and recognized that the victim was a German spy thanks to a telegram that literally dropped at our feet, we picked the killers wrong. Turns out we missed seeing the killers completely, dismissing their calling cards (like the tattoo on the victim's neck and the nagging talk of silk trading) that clearly pointed to a conspiracy. We had assumed Sgt. Dwyer was part of this conspiracy, which in hindsight was a tad presumptuous.

Incredible fun though. If my staff duties don't get in the way, I'd love to do it again at Geek.Kon and I know I'm doing it at Daisho.

For now, however, it's time to dance.

Even the crew and the victim's ghost get into the spirit of another great No Brand dance.

As do Jasmine and Spencer. With all the 80's hits, it's no wonder.

Around this time, however, the lack of sleep caught up to me. The dance was fun as always, but all those hours on my feet investigating made me ill-prepared to let loose and get my freak on. I wasn't exactly tired, but going full blast wasn't up my alley either. But it's not like I'm going to bail or sit out without good reason.

Enter Tiffany Grant.

The following story is top secret. I have been asked by certain parties not to tell this story, for fear it would make somebody look bad. Upon reflection, and a consultation with Vinnk, everybody involved comes across looking wonderful. Plus it's the best story of this con (and one of the best ever), so there's no way I'm not spilling this one. Just keep quiet about it, okay?

It was unusual enough for Tiffany Grant to be at the dance to begin with. This time, she did not greet me with "Hey, I remember you!" No, this time she greeted me with a frantic, "Adam! You have a car!"

I knew then and there that this was going to be an interesting run-in. When I said we'd make our tenth convention a good one, I hadn't expected her to trump my little autograph stunt. But trump it she did, and with the right bower.

All conventions have a guest relations team, and these guys go out of their way to provide the guests of honor with a positive experience- filling specific requests, getting them from panel to panel with minimal glomping, removing all the brown M&Ms, etc. Earlier in the evening, they treated all the guests to a nice dinner at a local Japanese restaurant. Great food, probably a little pricey- when you're hosting the voice of Lord Zedd, you spare no expense.

Anyway, it's later at night and Tiffany Grant is still a little hungry. You know how it is sometimes- you think you're satisfied after dinner and then a couple hours later you're itching for a snack. Now this becomes a problem when the convention has just treated you like royalty at a fancy restaurant. It could be considered a tad rude to immediately tell them "voice actor need food!" So there's her conundrum... and the reason she doesn't want the guest relations team finding out what happened next.

First she turned to Vinnk for assistance, and while he was searching for assistance, she found me. Keep in mind that despite my valiant chair-hauling the night before I was not a representative of the con. I'm also not from Eau Claire, and don't have a local's knowledge of the city. But I remembered seeing a supermarket across from Perkin's that morning, so that was good enough. Vinnk's efforts were fruitless, and seeing as how I wasn't in a big dance mood anyway, I was happy to help.

The trip itself was about as exciting as a late night snack run. The most interesting conversation was the comparison of our morning commutes, which tells you a lot. She got her food, I grabbed a Mountain Dew, and we returned safely. It's still the centerpiece of what is quickly becoming one of the more surreal cons I've had. Something that just fell into my hands through nobody's fault. Tiffany didn't want to trouble guest relations with a request that they more than likely would have been happy to honor.  Although if any of them are reading this, it's purely a construct of my imagination. Got that, Cecil?

Back at the dance, Pacman got a hold of the glowsticks.

I didn't do much dancing upon my return, either. Ended up spending most of that time talking to Trae (and Vinnk and KORfan intermittently) about con stuff, most of which doesn't bear repeating. We did break once for "Rock The Naughty Body." At least the music remained good. Served as a nice background to lead in to the Saturday night Geek.Kon room party.

Many more joined us Saturday night, and the refreshments went quickly. With nine people playing, Saturday night's round was best defined by the word Sultry: after discarding four solid selections, Evan had to choose between the KKK, Girl Scouts, Schindler's List and Jack the Ripper. After he chose Schindler (mine!), we actually stopped recognized those that contributed the other three.

So another great round and another successful party, including a visit from the Steam Century cat! Best of all, most of my roommates were still awake when I returned around 3:00, letting me arrange my floorspace in a much more survivable fashion.

Perhaps there is a saturation point for people in a room after all.

On to Phase Five!