The events of this article are not necessarily in the order they occurred. The conversations are all true, but names and likenesses have been changed to protect the innocent. Some events may be dramatically altered for various reasons, from flavor to obscured memory. If you read between the lines, you should be able to understand the reality of a gaming convention and the depths of depravity one must descend towards in order to participate in such a convention. I am sure many of you have your own Gen Con stories and I for one would love to hear them. Please feel free to leave your feedback or post your own stories for all of us to read.

Into the Oven

The sun rose over jungle of concrete, steel and glass, and blasted its way into my room. The humidity from a storm the night before still thick in the air. Sweat glazed my body as I rolled out of bed. I knew right away that the day was going to be hot. Not the kind of hot you usually find in the Midwest but real hot. The kind of hot you only find in Florida and Hell. I checked the thermostat in the house. 84 degrees. Jesus, if it was that hot in here with the air set to high, how hot was it going to be out there? I was in no rush to find out, but I knew it was only a matter of time.

I quickly grabbed for the closest clothes on the floor and threw them on. In the bathroom I gave myself a hygienic once over, knowing it was going to be a waste of time. Where I was going, there were only a few things you could be sure of and one of them was the fact that I would soon be assaulted by the smells of every bad body odor known to man. The convention doors would be opening soon and we still hadn't checked in for our press badges.

Our car had arrived and it was time to go. I called AdInifinitum. We would be meeting at the convention and told him we were on our way. This was going to be his first gaming convention and I had promised he would find his inner gamer there. It was a promise that I had no intentions of breaking. I made a last minute inventory check, camera, hot wife, keys, wallet... ready to go.

I opened the door into the inferno of the midsummer heat. Like a hot oven pounding in on you. I knew then it was going to be a long day. It couldn't have been more than 95 or 96 degrees, but the humidity made it feel like it was 120. The white hot glow of the sun felt like a blow torch on my arms. I wanted to turn around and call it quits then but I knew the show must go on. We climbed in the car and we were on our way. Too late to turn back now.

Fear and loathing in a sea of fat

We arrived at the convention center moments before they opened the trade room doors. 22,000 people, packed in like sardines, were between us and the press room. Navigating the halls was going to be like swimming through a sea of fat. I realized then that if anyone ever had a weight complex all they ever need do is go to Gen Con on opening day and watch as it rolls in, like a great herd of beasts being led to their doom. Hell, it’s got to be cheaper than going to see a psychiatrist, and I would assume much more effective. I took a deep breath, reached for my wife's hand and together we dove in, not knowing if we were going to make it to the other side. The blubber was warm and smelled moldy ass crack, but we swam.

After what must have been around 10 minutes later, and felt like an eternity, we emerged on the other side. Drenched in sweat and smelling like a cheap hooker the night after a run in with major league baseball team, we could breathe once more. We rushed to the press room, grabbing for our ID's. The room was mostly empty. Three volunteer employees and a handful of other people. There was only one group in line at the desk. The man in charge trying to explain to the lady behind the desk that he had not registered as press but he had brought his press credentials with him. I could see the pain in her face as she tried not to call him an idiot. She then proceeded to calmly explain to him that one must register for their press badges before the convention, and that one must have an active publication before one can be considered press by Gen Con. Their conversation faded into obscurity as another lady behind the desk asked us if we were pre-registered.

We hand her our ID's as she grabs the press list to look us, quickly finding our badges and double checking the information on them for accuracy. 'GeekGirlsOnline?' she says in a near whisper 'I love your site, I checked it out not too long ago.' This, for those of you who do not know, is one of the greatest things that can happen to someone who runs what is considered to be a small publication. Even more so when the publication is an adult one. We exchanged pleasantries for a moment while we collecting our badges and signing the release forms. Then, back out into the convention halls we strolled. All the excitement had left us hot, smelly and out of breath, so we decided it was time to duck out one of the side doors for a smoke break.

As we stood there smoking, people were still coming in unaware of the sea they were about to be swimming in. Two young women passed by. I over heard one of them saying 'I could never do that to you, you are my best friend' I thought to myself 'No, but I can do it to you whatever it is. Besides, your best friend is about to drag you through the beast pit.....' My thought trailed off as I noticed I was talking out loud and large, hungry men were now looking at me as if I were a well cooked ham.

The Party Forms

We casually finished our cigarettes and headed back in, fearing the wade through whale infested hallways. We sat down with our back against the wall and started to formulate our game plan while waiting for 'Ad' to show up. It was a very short wait as he was sitting at a table on the other side of the hall from us. Two years of work, planning the corruption of an innocent soul, had finally paid off. He was in the belly of the beast. He had ventured into the heart of hell.... A Gaming Convention... THE Gaming Convention of all Gaming Conventions.... Gen Con.

AdInfinitum strolled over to us, not knowing the damage that had already been done to his immortal soul, before we could even look in our 'swag bag'. We said our greetings and salutations and rummaged through our swag bags. It had the customary coupon book you find in every year’s bag, the legendary Gen Con Die from Crystal Caste (this year’s was a D6), a CATAN dice bag, IDWs #0 Con Exclusive 'Dungeons and Dragons' comic book, random fliers, leaflets and of course the ever present Gen Con Survival guide.

The Gen Con Survival Guide is the end all-be all of Gen Con knowledge each year. Its pages are loaded with tons of information regarding everything from booth locations, to event schedules, celebrity highlights, entertainment guides and more. Not to mention that in a bind it can be used as a mighty fine weapon if you have to beat off a starved gamer that wants to gnaw on your arm sometime between second breakfast and elevenses.

Casually, we headed for the upper level where we could check out the Rock Band setup for the Gen Con Rock Band competition; a competition we had been looking forward to for quite some time. Our journey to the Rock Band area brought us into a dimly lit room filled with computers, game consoles and the always present gamer. But wait, there was something in the air. This room didn't smell of the customary ass crack sweat that the rest of the convention permeated. It had an almost pleasant smell. I couldn't quite wrap my nose around it. Was it maybe cologne?

It was here, in the midst of the dim lights and flickering monitors, shrouded in the gloom and doom of first person shooters, that we ran into our next adventuring companion, JeremyDJ88. Jeremy was a crucial part of our party’s composition: he was our drummer. Without him, the show would not be able to go on. He was lost in gamer land, consumed by the infamous warm glow of a LCD monitor grinding away on... Super NES?? I was confused. The dinosaur he was plugging away on had been extinct for years, or so I had thought, but there it was tucked away in this dark room, humming like a song bird as it hammered through Super Smash Brothers. It was futile to try and pull him away now. We mentioned the Rock Band Competition and set our initial plans. We could meet up later and figure out a more complete game plan.

Indiana BOB and the Temple of Gloom

We ventured further, exploring the corridors, till we made our way to the infamous Rock Band room. A quick spot check revealed we were where we wanted to be. Here, in the center of the room, a small stage and on it three nerds. The krangs and twangs of a plastic guitar missing its notes, rang out through the room. The dull thuds of a bass drum not being depressed echoed in its lonely existence. The tap thwak fwap of the drum sticks hitting the pads. The off key singing of some nerd as he struggled desperately to keep pitch with 'Journey'. If this was any indication of the skill level we would be going up against, we had this competition in the bag. Then I noticed it. As my eyes adjusted to the light in the room, that isn’t a Rock Band guitar... that's a Guitar Hero Guitar! Those fucking bastards! They swore up and down they would have official equipment this year. What’s going on here?

We went into action: straight for the information desk in the room. Behind the desk sat a kid who couldn't have been more than 20 years old. On the desk in front of him, the mutilated guts of a Rock Band bass pedal. He fumbled clumsily as he tried to repair it. Looking up he said “Can I help you?" with an attitude that told us everything. This guy had been picked on his entire life and he wasn't about to take shit from anyone now. “You’re goddamn right you can help me. What’s with the Guitar Hero guitar? Is this the equipment you are running the competition on?" I said without hesitation. He looked over at the stage then back to the drum pedal he was trying to fix “New equipment is on its way, its just stuck in traffic. Register for the competition any time you have the full four members for your band with you.”

The mood was set. Depression and devastation were in the air. I had a gut feeling that Guitar Hero guitar was here to stay. I could see it on my wife's face too. The one event we were looking forward to at Gen Con had just been transformed into a Temple of Gloom. No point in fighting it, this guy would just get pushy and with no form of meat on his bones, I would have tossed him out like the plankton he was, to be feasted on by the whales. Unfortunately, then the storm troopers would have come for me or worse Master Chief. It was time to move along.

The Hall of Champions

Enough time had already been wasted. We needed to get down to work. Back down the stairs and into the trade room we go, ready to start swimming again in a sea of fat. Past the guards we stumbled and what was that? Hot blond on my 11-o-clock. My sexdar sprung into action. All the fat faded into black and white. Speckled across the trade room floor in full vibrant color.... hotties. It all came rushing back to me, the real reason one comes to Gen Con.

I never quite understood it really but somehow nerds and geeks have a super magnet that draws in some of the hottest, most attractive girls you have ever seen in your life. To make things better, these girls, over the years, have developed a competition within their ranks to see who can wear the least amount of clothes in public without getting in trouble for it. It was here, in this moment, that I remembered “Man, I am glad to be a gamer.”

We made our rounds of the trade room floor, looking for anything at the booths that might stand out. Something cool enough, in that uncool and geeky kind of way, to warrant our attention long enough to conduct any form of interview. But the bar was pretty high this year. It’s hard to grab a man’s attention when there are belly dancers all around him.

White Wolf had the right strategy this year. They decided not to sell books this year. They didn't even make a pitch on new products coming out. In black and dark red, positioned right on the edge of the trade floor, they set up a bar and filled it with sexy bar maids in skin tight clothing. Someone mentioned a party they would be hosting soon, but honestly I don't think an hour went by at the entire convention that I didn't hear someone say “Have you checked out the White Wolf booth yet?” It still makes me laugh to think of that being a booth. It was a nerd paradise. My hat goes off to you guys.

Your Zombie Survival Plan Will Fail!

It would be another hour, walking around the trade room, before we came across another booth worth mentioning. Hidden in the far corner, a sign loomed over a booth that read 'Your Zombie Survival Plan Will Fail'. My zombie survival plan will fail? I think not. I have a very sound plan for survival in the midst of a zombie invasion. Hell, we have plans that take into account optimum survivability based on if they are slow moving or fast moving zombies and if they are intelligent high functioning zombies or autonomous brain dead zombies. But that's not what counts here.

Hidden away where they would not get the exposure they deserve, we found the new best thing in gaming: OUTBREAK: UNDEAD! It’s a table top role-playing game of Zombie Survival. The three core books are all rolled into one massive volume. That's right. No need to buy more than the one book. The game encourages that you build yourself as a character. What gamer doesn't try to do that at least once with every system?

I fell in love instantly. I was mesmerized by the awe, power and presence of the game. I wanted to profess my undying love for the creators and ask them to marry me, right then and there. I guess its a good thing prop 8 got shot down right after. Now, if they could only legalize polygamy, we would be in business. The headlines would read “FIRST MULTI-PARTNER, GAY MARRIAGE HELD IN THE MIDST OF A ZOMBIE INVASION”. The gore level would be through the roof, as we fought our way out of the church, the zombies closing in our glorious gay pride union. Just then, I was snapped out of it as a young woman in a very revealing leather and silk ensemble, that barely covered anything, walked by. Guess I'm not ready to be gay. my god her ass... you could bounce quarters off that thing! i wonder if she would let me give it a quick smack.... Oh yea, Zombies!

It's a small world, fat and all

I lost track of time as we hung out with the Zombies, talking about the game, and the people behind it. I didn't want to go but there were more hotties to be seen and I wanted to see them all. Not to mention there were more booths we had not yet passed. One thing most people do not know, until they actually attend Gen Con, is that there is an entire section of the trade floor set aside for artists. Some of the most impressive and interesting art you will ever see in your life is stationed here. We made a quick round through, but didn't waste any time here. We were going to be covering the art on day three.

Back around to the main block on the trade floor and across to the other side, we passed every form of gamer known to man,  the legendary to the infamous. Hundreds of tables with geeks playing every game ever made, from Chess to Magic the Gathering; Stratego to Dungeons and Dragons. If the tables are full, it's not a problem. Just pull up a section of floor next to a wall and break out your stash. If Vegas had any idea what they were doing, this is how casinos would be ran. Forget blackjack, let’s break out the Magic.

The entire room was alive with the sounds of gaming. Storm Troopers moved up and down the aisles, Master Chief and his men made their way from one end of the trade floor to the other. The hotties were wearing less clothes than they do in most strip clubs and the costumes ranged from the lame to the awe inspiring. It was like being in Second Life on acid, if the graphics were better and the people were more fun. Hmmm... Flying, that would come in handy here. I digress, if you have never been to Gen Con before you absolutely must go, even if you are not a gamer. You never know you might find your inner gamer. Even if you don't, this is quite possibly the best and most fucked up circus side show you will ever see and is more than worth the money it costs.

The party grows

It was time for another smoke break. The sun was still beating down on the streets of Indianapolis. You could actually hear the tires of cars passing by, as they stick to the hot asphalt and then peal away with the car’s momentum. With a little time and some aluminum foil, one could have cooked a steak to perfection on the pavement and yet we were still out there, soaking in the warm radiation of the sun. The steps leading into the Convention Center were packed, the side walk all but blocked, hundreds of gamers gathered outside to combine in the union of nicotine. The cloud of smoke they created could have blocked out the sun, had it been any normal day.

My wife decided it was time to check for another WiFi signal to log online to check her messages. “Holy Shit!” she exclaimed “Wease is already here.” I looked at her for a moment, decoding the cryptic message. “But his plane isn't supposed to get in till tomorrow?” I said. "No, his plane gets in today but he was going to go to his hotel and check in, then get some sleep before coming to the convention tomorrow. He changed his mind. He is here in line to pick up his badge. We need to go meet up with him.”

By this time the sea had drained a little and it was more like a ‘Great Lake’. One could easily walk 15 - 20 feet without bumping into a beast of a man ready to eat you at the drop of a hat. "You know, I have seen him on cam on the net before but it’s always so dark you can hardly make out a person there at all. Anyone even know what he looks like?” I asked. “Yeah, he is like tall and furry with lots of hair” my wife explained. “Awesome. Wookiees stand out in a crowed no matter where you are. Guess we just keep an eye for a Chewbacca ripping some dudes arms off at the pickup windows".

We spent 20 minutes looking for a man who looked like a wookiee at a gaming convention where more people wear costumes than street clothes. I actually saw a wookiee in the corner but this wookiee  was dry humping an ewok from behind while a jawa stood by and filmed. I decided if that's the wookiee we are looking for, then I want nothing to do with him. We walked up and down the aisle. There were no more wookiees to be found. I found a bugbear, an orc, about 20 elves, a handful of Jedi knights, more Storm Troopers than you could shake a stick at, Captain Jack Sparrow and about 15 half naked wenches clinging to his every move. I never really wanted to be Captain Jack before. A pirate? Yes. But one lost in his own world of loss and confusion? No thank you but what a lucky man. Those girls were hot.

A few more passes of the registration area and we are out of luck. Our feet are starting to hurt from the use and abuse they have received throughout the day. Time to change the plan. Back on the WiFi. We decide to meet in the food court. After all, in a convention of gamers, the food court is the best place to be if you want to see everything.

Aren't you a little short to be a Wookiee?

We sat in the food court watching as the potpourri of freaks, geeks, nerds and hotties journeyed to and fro. All around us people were playing various games: Magic the Gathering to the right of me; Pathfinder to the left. The people at the table behind me sat and had a theological debate about 4th edition and if it is a good game or not. They came to the same conclusion that everyone with an Intelligence score over 10 comes to: that 4th edition isn't Dungeons and Dragons at all.

I sat listening to people talk as they passed and up strolled a man nearly exactly to Shannon Hoon. Standing at about 6' 2" with a medium build, short beard and long untamed hair. He introduced himself as Wease. I knew right then, this man was too short to be a wookiee, and not even close to hairy enough, unless you shaved the wookiee but I imagine shaving a wookiee would be a good way to get some limbs ripped from your body.

We engaged in the customary introduction ritual in round robin fashion till everyone knew who one another was, then proceeded to rejoin the convention. At some point through the chaos of cirque de la geek, we made our way down the corridors and back up the great mechanical stairway towards the video game hall. There it was again: that smell. Manly in nature and almost sweet smelling, like a cool breeze in the hills on a hot summer day. Jeremy was right where we expected to find him and we made plans to fall back to HQ later and practice for the Rock Band competition.

Logic instructed us to stop in the Rock Band room and check on the progress. The nerdy master of douchebaggery was still sitting in the same spot trying to work on that exact same drum pedal. A better man would have given up hours ago and sent someone to Best Buy’s to get another one, but not this guy. He had given himself a quest and his skill level be damned, he was going to see it through till the end, or be beat to death by an angry mob of fanboys, trying. A quick glance around the room and not much had changed. A different group of tools were on the stage, failing miserably at some forgotten song, as they crunched away on Guitar Hero guitar, broken drums with a missing bass pedal and a projector screen rocking out at least 150ms delay. On the bright side, there was now a very attractive young lady sitting behind the table with Mr. Douchebag. Unfortunately, she had Vampire fangs and at first glance one could tell she was a fan of “Twilight”. Not even worth taking a second look at, unless she got naked first. I had to look back and see if she had, but of course, she hadn't.

Let there be rock!

Hours later we found ourselves back at HQ. Ad had returned to his hotel room to get some sleep in preparation of the next days events. Wease, Athena and myself were setting up our own Rock Band gear while waiting on Jeremy so we could practice for the looming competition. Jeremy shows up a few hours later. ‘There it is again! That smell!’ I thought, as it wafted through the room. The cool gust brushing across the warm hill. Suddenly everything became clear. He was wearing cologne and that could only imply that he was trying to get laid, yet here he was, ready for practice. Had his plan failed?

“They changed the rules some and extended the qualification hours, but they still haven't gotten the fixed equipment. The guy behind the counter, ya know the one that thinks he looks like the guy from Burn Notice, said they would have the new equipment in for sure in the morning” Jeremy said. I looked at him half confused for a moment “Burn Notice? Really?” I stated “I know who you are talking about because I kinda see it now that you say it and I am not looking at the guy, but he looks nothing like the guy from Burn Notice. He just looks like a world class dick...” the rest of my rant was cut short.

'Hello there lady's and gentlemen!' rang out from the screen. It was time. I took my guitar in hand. Jeremy sat at his drums and Wease strapped his bass on as Athena grabbed her mic. We queued up our first song. Bump bump bump cha. The colors bled down the screen as the music rang out. It took a while to get in tune with one another but once we were in sync, the band scores flew. We were ready for the competition. No one stood a chance against us. We played till my fingers felt like they were going to bleed. Jeremy looked like his arms were going to fall off. The rest of the night is a sleepy blur as we sat up talking about everything from gaming to how war has not been fought right since WWII.

Geek fixer in a bottle

The sun rose over our jungle of concrete, steel, and glass and blasted its way into my room. The humidity still thick in the air, sweat glazed my body as I rolled out of bed. Again. It was going to be another hot day. The kind of hot that makes cute fuzzy animals burst into flames. I checked the thermostat in the house. 86 degrees... Shit... that's hot.

We had gotten up early. We wanted to beat the rush and Jeremy had a tournament, that he was already registered for, at opening time. Everyone started to get ready and there it was. 'Ppppsssssshhhhhh' and the smell wafted in again. “Anyone need some geek fixer?” Jeremy asked. I paused looking at him slightly confused. In his hand, a can of Axe body spray. He dug into his pocket and pulled out another. ”This shit is a life saver man, I have no idea how many people I had to tag with it yesterday. It's like fuck, I know the convention runs 24 hours a day and that doesn't leave any time for a shower, but Christ we have body spray. There is no excuse for smelling bad. Don't give me that look. I am doing a public service by spraying them with Axe.”

There was no time to argue the point and I couldn't formulate a good argument at the time anyways. We all finished getting ready and piled into the car. We thought we could beat the rush and find a good parking spot. We were wrong. Athena and I decided to hop out at the light in front of the convention so we could go find Ad. Jeremy and Wease went to find a place to park the car and we would all meet up in the food court.

Moses in the desert

We all found our way to the food court and decided it was time to go get breakfast. Jeremy needed to get to his tournament, so we opted to bring food back to him. The rest of us headed out into the summer heat on a journey for rations. We walked at a leisurely pace, the hot sun beating down on us like an angry drill instructor. We walked and talked for what seamed like hours, till I said “Where the hell are we going? We have almost walked out of the city.” Athena looked at me and said “I want Dunken Donuts.” I gazed on in terror “The Dunken Donuts that we passed on the way into the city? The Dunken Donuts that is still another 12 blocks from us in this blistering sun? That Dunken Donuts?”

Everyone stopped. After quick deliberation over the value of doughnuts, the distance of the walk, and the heat of the sun in open like this, we decided it was time to turn back. Hungry, hot, tired and feet screaming, we walked back towards the convention center and went for breakfast at Steak 'n' Shake. My feet felt like they were bleeding as my legs felt like two painful iron rods and the day had just begun. It was going to be a long day. Most certainly, it was going to be hell. I had to try and find away to gain control of our group or we were going to be marched till our feet fell off if Athena was left in control. This was going to take cunning, it was going to take skill, it was going to take a fucking miracle because Athena is more bullheaded than I am. I wonder if I could shoot myself in the foot and get out of this.

We finished our breakfast and headed back to the convention. The trade room was in full swing as the geeks moved to and fro in an almost hypnotic rhythm and steady pace. It was as if a wave of zombies were moving through the horde. If the zombies smelled us, there was still hope as an emergency defibrillator hung on the wall marking the re-spawn point. We secured the camera. It was time to get this party started. We made our way through wave after wave of infected. The guys from Left 4 Dead would have been proud.

Wil Wheaton and the almost naked hotties

We made our way to the Wil Wheaton seminar. The line wrapped around the lobby like cows being herded on the farm. With the pain in my feet overwhelming my senses, I looked at the line with horror. My head started to spin. Then a voice on my left shoulder whispered in my ear “Wil Wheaton is a tool, no one knows who he is anymore.” The voice on my right shoulder chimed in. “He was Wesley Crusher. Without him the crew of the Enterprise would have died a million times. He was the master of the 'USS Make Shit Up'.” They went back and forth like that for a few minutes, when the guy on my left shoulder kicked the one on the right in the nuts and said “Your feet hurt, sit down you jackass. Wheaton isn't worth it.”

The rest of the group got in line as I sat down. “Go on without me. I will wait here for you. My feet hurt too bad for this to be worth it.” A few minutes later, the doors opened up. One by one, the geeks flooded in to listen to Wil Wheaton talk. Moments later, the voice on my left shoulder returned “Look up you jackass, I never lead you wrong but you forgot the camera you moron.” I looked up and a mob of half naked goddesses were walking towards me. I melted as they passed by me into the room I was sitting in front of. I read the sign by the door: Belly Dancing classes. ‘You have to be fucking kidding me. I swam the sea of fat, I wandered for 40 years in the desert, I battled the zombie hordes, and I observed soldiers of the future as the patrolled the aisles of the convention.’ Here, in a small room next to where Wil Wheaton was mesmerizing the crowds with his life story, I find heaven. They jingled, they jangled, their bodies glistened with sweat, oil and perfection. I could have died, in that moment, a happy man.

An hour passed by in what felt like minutes and the Wheaton seminar let out. The group came out laughing, smiling and carrying on about how awesome Wil Wheaton was. They relayed some of the funny things he said but for the life of me, it all went in one ear an out the other. I thought about telling them all about the show they missed but decided I would let Wil Wheaton have this one. Just like that, it was over and we were on our way again back into the convention hall.

Social Terrorism Outside the Rock Band Room

We made our way to the Rock Band room, but Jeremy was nowhere to be found. My feet still killing me, I plopped down on a cushioned bench seat next to a man buried in a book. The others went to check on the Rock Band setup, as I relaxed some more. They returned. I could tell by look on my wife’s face that the news was not good. '”They have extended the qualification hours yet again, changed some more of the rules here and there, but they still have the fucking broken equipment, really how hard is it to get working equipment?" Shaking my head I replied “Do they at least have broken Rock Band equipment now? Or do they still have the fucking Guitar Hero guitar?” She let out an almost maniacal giggle 'It's still a Guitar Hero guitar. I can't believe how incompetent these morons are.” I chuckled, mostly to myself “I can't believe MTV and Harmonix would let this happen. I bitched about it last year. It's not like they don't know whats going on. I guess they just don't give a fuck about their fans. Maybe we should encourage people to stop buying their products till they get involved...” The conversation trailed off.

We sat there, the four of us talking. We talked about everything from the rise and fall of the Nazi Empire to how out of touch with reality the members of the church of Scientology are. We developed our own theory about how Mel Gibson and his friends are wrong. They have said that the Holocaust never happened and the Jews all made it up. We decided the Holocaust never happened because the Jews never existed. They are a myth, like the elves or the unicorns. A propaganda tool created so that Americans could look at the Native American people and say “Look, throughout history there is this group of people who have gotten a shittier lot in life than you have.” Never mind the fact that the Jews have been mentioned a million times before America was ever found. All that stuff was fabricated afterwards.

We rambled on and on. The poor guy next to us, not able to focus on his book, laughed as we unlocked the mysteries of the world and pulled the veil back on history. The Nazis might have lost World War II but the communists have come out on top. We tell a tale of how the USSR was dissolved and capitalism has prevailed while the truth of the matter is Communism has dominated the world and we all now live in the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics of Amerika. The Gestapo will be kicking in my door any minute now and my words will be censored by the Workers Party of Führer Obama... but the show must go on.

The day the music died

Time was closing in on us, the band had all reassembled. If we were going to get into this competition, we needed to make our move now. We strolled back into the Rock Band room. Broken Drum Pads, missing bass pedal, that fucking Guitar Hero guitar. Nothing had changed. We were pissed, a line had to be drawn, but not here, not now... there was no way we could win a battle against the Rock Band organizers on their own turf. We set a plan into motion. Step one: Expose them for the failures they are. Step two.... We haven't figured out yet but we will get to it eventually.

All hope was abandoned. We cut our losses and left, never to return to the Rock Band room. The doom and gloom of a Rock Band Competition botched, left us drained and wanting. We found our way to the closest place where we could drown our pain in copious amounts of alcohol and set our livers a blaze. Time lost all meaning and when we stumbled back into the convention, the hall was closed. Luckily, just because the trade room isn't open, doesn't mean the convention is over. There were people everywhere playing games, singing, dancing and just having a wonderful time. There might have been some blood left pumping in my alcohol veins, but as I watch the people, most of them total strangers I realized this is what its all about.

Like the hippies dancing in the streets at the corner of Haight and Ashbury, this was the geek’s Woodstock. For you see, on the surface, Gen Con is all about gaming but once one is properly inebriated, one begins to realize Gen Con is more than just gaming. The gaming is just an excuse. Gen Con is about fitting in, it’s about being accepted, because at Gen Con, it doesn't matter if you are 450 lbs of blubbering man or 96 lbs of blindingly beautiful goddess. Even a green skinned orc in a loincloth. Everyone at Gen Con has something in common. The realization I came to was that gaming was not what they all had in common. Many of the people here were not gamers at all. It was Gen Con itself brought these people together. It’s all about unity, my brothers and sisters, its all about accepting your fellow man for who he is, and its about accepting yourself for who you are. It's about having fun and being in love, not love as a man loves a woman (that's lust more often than not) but true love, unity, family. Never mind the fact that you don't know the person sitting next you. He is your brother and when united, there is nothing the wonderful peoples of Gen Con can not accomplish (except a Rock Band competition as it turns out).

If you have never been to Gen Con, you must find a way to go least once in your life. If you have been there, then you should already know what I am talking about. In either case, when you find yourself in a long line or swimming in a sea of fat at next year’s Gen Con, remember the unity. Let go of yourself for a little while and you to will realize you are having more fun than you ever though possible. Come my brothers and sisters and find your inner gamer. Hope to see you all at next years 'reunion'.