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Sunday was a weird day. As I kept remarking to people, "This four day con schedule is really throwing me off." (This was in no way a bad thing, it's just that all the other cons I've been to have been three day affairs, so I felt like I should be rushing to things that weren't happening yet)
Mara and I wandered over to City Walk and spent too much time and money on souvenirs for other people, and T-shirts with witty saying on them. We also spent most of the time sharing a really great slushy from a little shop nestled in between two huge ones. If you're ever there again, I recommend the place highly.
We thought we got back to the hotel in time, but, um, various factors made us really late to the VA autograph sessions. (Had I but known Cree Summer was going to be there... I would have had her autograph my copy of Street Fairy) By the time I got there, Cree and Keith David had left, and Jeff Bennett had to run off to his Mug-a-Guest. (Again, I kept forgetting most of the guests actually *lived* in the city we were in. It wasn't like previous years where they're trapped with us for the duration) Warpy and I were actually supposed to be the last people in line, but a few more people showed up and I didn't have the heart to turn them away. I lost Mara and Lynati for a while here, but found them again by the time I was near the finish. The remaining VAs, Crispy, Elisa, Neil, Gregg, and Thom were all still signing away tho', and I got some more names for my giant puzzle. Neil, Gregg, and Elisa especially seemed really tickled that this many people would line up for them. For my part, I thought they were all very nice, and I was impressed that Elisa recognized her character. Thom looked like he was going to fall asleep in his chair, and complained of being hungry.
Thom also, at that point at least, had apparently seen Moulen Rouge three times. Mara'd seen it four times, and the two began an animated conversation about it.
And then... The auction!
I'd like to thank Myhr for being such a great auctioneer, and Draconis for stepping in when Myhr's voice started to give out.
I have, apparently, gotten a reputation as something of an auction maniac. "God of the bid", I believe was the phrase. I don't know how that happened. ^_^ I certainly wasn't close to Demona May and Heather Rice, (Two big spenders who were conspicuously absent from the auction this year), or whoever bought The Mirror for eight hundred odd dollars. But I do love an auction. Always get a good seat down front, and bring some pretty girls to distract the auctioneer if you can.
I was bidding for myself, Mara, and (sometimes) Lynati, and eventually for a pool to get one of the Carl Johnson CDs, so it might have looked like I was rolling in it.
I did mess with Jannie a little, as she'd promised a couple of weeks before to give me a run for my money. I did *not* bid against Siryn, (Don't annoy next year's con head) but anybody else was fair game to be bid against. And bid I would.
Apparently, there was some feeling that I was simply raising the bids for the sake of doing so. I swear that I bid on nothing I wasn't interested in, I simply wasn't *as* interested in some things as I was in others. And anyway, it is for charity after all. And since I wasn't allowed to give blood, I let myself go a bit at the auction, along with encouraging others to do the same. "C'mon, you can go without food for a couple of days..."
I have no idea what our final haul was since I lost track of what I bid on vs. what I actually got, but there is one standout: The shrinky-dink Brooklyn, a.k.a. The Eye of Greg, acquired for a meer three times what Greg thought it would go for.
The two stories I know are going to make the rounds are:
A. When I'd gotten up to get autographs from the crew, but was still multitasking on the auction. I'd just finished thanking the crew collectively for their autographs and the work they did on the show when I heard one of a pair of bidders who'd been going back and forth go to $35. So I yelled $40. Apparently I don't multitask as well as I thought I did, because I outbid Mara. Oops. (She got me back later) It wasn't my fault, Draconis was standing between us. And then I got outbid by a young woman sitting in the second row. So I stomp toward her, mock-angry, still going back and forth, making "Smite" gestures at her every time I outbid her, walked past her, all the way back to my seat, and then asked "What are we bidding on again?" Which broke everybody up. (Except maybe her) So I turn to look at the items on the block, some of the Hardwired action figures, and say "Oh, I don't want that. You can have that." (If you're reading this, I'm sorry, I thought it was a different set of action figures. One of the Demona/Elisa ones)
B. The script for Hunter's Moon Pt III, the radio play version comes up, and I want it. Naturally, I'm not the only one. Sadly, the auction was winding down, because it really only came down to me and Greg B. He bid fifty bucks, and I asked him if he got it, he'd put it on the internet for all to see, right? And he says no! And to me, in auction mode, he sounds sincere. So I do the only thing I *can* do under the circumstances: Put the bid up to $60. And he's like "I was kidding! Of course I'll put it up! Sixty-five!" So I made him swear on his word of honor that he would put it up for all to see, (Of course, I don't know if I should have trusted the word of a guy whose personal heroes are Xanatos and Megatron... Just kiddin' Greg) and quit bidding.
After that, we scarcely had time to pick up our things before running back to the room to change for the banquet. We came in late, and ended up at a table with a bunch of people we didn't know, Lynati, and I'm afraid I've completely blanked out on the name of the gentleman who was our guest.
Dinner was interesting. Definately the fanciest meal I've ever been to. (I really should have remembered to grab a coke out of the minibar) During the meal, we could see Thom and Crispy getting up and going back and forth between their tables. This was the subject of much debate at our table, so I got elected to go over and find out what was going on.
I have no idea what started them off like this, probably something at a panel earlier, but they were one-upping each other. At least that was what Thom told me. As near as I could piece together, Thom went over to Crispy, pretending to be a waiter, and said "I'm sorry sir, your Visa has been declined. You'll have to leave." So Crispy comes back a bit later and says "FBI sir, you'll have to come with me." So Thom thinks about that for a minute, and goes back with "Don Johnson wants his outfit back." (And, to be fair, Crispy *did* look kinda like something off Miami Vice)
So Crispy goes over and kisses Thom. And everybody claps. Including, after a moment, Thom. Sort of acknowledging that Crispy had won. So I, hating to see Thom lose, go over to and tell him to go lick Crispy's ear. That should guarantee a win. Thom kinda thinks about it for a minute, and then says that he'd already given Crispy his due. "But that would have been good tho'."
On the way over to the dessert buffet, (my favorite part of the meal) we pass Greg's table, and he notices that I have The Eye of Greg on, and asks how much it went for. I tell him $65, and he says that it "wasn't worth anywhere near that much, but thank you." I protest that it's a Greg Weisman original, and besides, I'm sure it has magical, creative powers. Greg says that he'd gotten kind of used to wearing it, and I offer, in all sincerety, to give it back to him. (Lest he, I don't know, try to reclaim it later, Odin-like. How he'd do that I don't know. Write me into Team Atlantis at the Vinnie character, maybe. I didn't say any of that at the time tho') Greg says, no, for me to keep it, and then says "You know I licked it, right?" "Really?!?" "No, not really."
We stayed, probably too long, for the artist awards, and then ran down to get changed. Really, we should have practiced this before. Various problems, mostly with my costume, took forever. (For all would-be Gorebash award contestants, you cannot fill condoms with water and then cram them into a bra. They WILL break. Use jello. Do *not* use pudding, because that has oil in it, and that will eat the latex and make a *huge* mess. Don't ask me why Hudson knew that...) Anyway, then we had to blow dry my dress... With me in it...
So we get in the elevator with two norms, one of whom says "Do I even want to know?" I just tell him that cross dressers always get great responses, and leave it at that.
When we get there, horribly late, but Slash is still playing. Thanks for stalling for us, and the other late arrival Slash. We get to go on, to much applause, and I get a little silly, performing for the crowd. Thom starts yelling for me to come over and give Lydia Moreno a lap dance, and I act like I'm going to do it, but at the last minute I sit on his lap instead. So after that photo op, I slink over to Greg, who says that he's "not as good a sport as Thom is" (Greg's words. I beg to differ) so I don't sit on his lap. Seth comes running out of the crowd, and stuffs a dollar down the front of my dress, and we leave the stage. There's one more act, and the judges leave for a bit. I've got some great photos of "Dueling Foxes" in here, along with pics with Patrick "Reno" Chavez. Jen remarks that she "can't wait until these hit the 'net."
The judges come back. Wolfie and Dreamie have won the Thom Adcox Memorial award, Mara and I have won the Gorebash award, "Because no one worked harder for it." as Greg put it.
And then I got to spring a gag I'd been planning since before G2K, giving Thom a pair of official Backstreet Boys underwear. I meant to do it in Orlando, but I chickened out. But I figured I'd already put on a dress and fake boobs, so what did I have to lose? Thom accepted them with a smile and a laugh. Thom also promised to record a line from Rocky Horror for Lynati the next day. Thom is the greatest sport in the history of the world. :)
After the dance broke up, Mara, Lynati, and I drifted back to our room, and had a long conversation about fic before turning in.
Aaron, Sounds like you had a great time. You're diaries are a better advert for the G's than anything I can think of. Thanks.
(But i"m glad you stayed off my lap, lady.)