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Final Fantasm
March 2005

Disclaimer and Previous Fantasm Reviews Thursday - Fantasm Fannies Thursday - Prom Friday - Afunkalypse Saturday

Friday I spent all day helping Wes get the party room together, running out for more booze, helping my girlfriend assemble her outfit, etc. Even having gotten out of bed early and skipping all official events at the con I didn’t get everything done I wanted to do before the party. But when 10 o'clock rolled around there were already several people camping out in the hall waiting for us to get started.

I’d put together a hell of a soundtrack and hoped a few people would be interested in learning a few dance moves from the instructional track, as well as the dance instruction pages I’d copied and posted around the entire room. But no, instead people were content to chat and drink, occasionally breaking out into dance en masse.

Never wanted to be arrested until now...

As with all parties, the crowd ebbed and flowed. Whenever the room got empty I ran out into the hall and yelled "Free booze, free boobs!" That usually brought a crowd within minutes and the joint would be packed again.

Multi-award winner Reverend John Ling in yellow polyester.

Our high-class bar.

Picture stolen from another Fantasm guest.

I abandoned the leisure suit jacket halfway through the night 'cause polyester just doesn't breathe in layers. I don't see how all those disco folks danced the night away in the stuff!
Other folks had more... breathable outfits. Holy cow, there were some hotties around!
Speaking of hotties, degenerate SW was done up as Rollergirl for the evening. I'd catch some guy staring at her ass every few minutes, then he'd catch me smiling at him and we'd just grin at each other. Damn!
And speaking of breathable outfits...

A few folks were mesmerized by the apocalyptic films on the TV. Slipstream, Road Warrior and Waterworld provided all three forms of apocalyptic transportation – planes, cars and boats.
The down side of throwing your own party is you have to miss all the others. I stepped out and visited the Esotericon party down the hall for a few minutes but that was it. I heard there were parties going on elsewhere and the Masquerade Ball was in full swing, but I had to miss all of that. Meh. My party kicked ass, so I’m not complaining. Not even when the fire marshal showed up. I had been warned, so I stood in the hall awaiting his arrival, ready to comply with all his wishes. That’s how you handle this particular type of authority figure. Play along 100% and they’ll go away.

He shows up a few minutes later. I told him I'm anxious to comply with his demands because I don't want to be unsafe. He walks in and says Christmas lights are a fire hazard.
No problem, we unplugged ‘em.
The fake flaming skull lights are a fire hazard.
No problem, they got turned off.
The plastic on the floor is a fire hazard.
No problem, we pulled it all up.
More than four people in a room is a fire hazard.
No prob– wait, what? Are you kidding? Like that fifth person is going to cause the room to become a kindling box and the hotel is going to spontaneously combust! I opened my mouth to argue but then remembered who I was dealing with and the best way to handle him. So I played along and said, “Everyone out,” and added in a whisper, “until the fire marshal leaves…”
So he and his posse headed out the door and into the stairwell. I figured he’d been working his way up from the ground and there was one more floor above us so I’d better wait until he’d finished that floor as well. I brought drinks to the faithful who loitered in the hall and chatted for a bit, keeping an eye on the stairwell. Then I realized the music in the room was still playing, coincidentally Ohio Players’ Fire.
Oh, you’d better believe that’s a fire hazard! I couldn’t have planned it better if I’d tried.
A little while later I saw the fire marshal headed back down stairs. I gave him enough time to get out of earshot and turned back to the assembled crowd in the hall and yelled “Who’s ready to be a fiiiire haaazaaaaard?!?” and we charged back into the room and resumed partying hardy.

 An hour or so later, security showed up and told us we were too loud. Wes turned down the volume and some folks kept dancing anyhow.

A short time later the fire marshal reappeared, asking around who was responsible for the room and not getting a straight answer. I hoped the additional hassle he’d have to go through by asking the front desk wouldn’t be worth it if we made it obvious we were shutting the party down for good, so the party was killed right at its height.

Which means we got to go out on top instead of the long slow fade as the booze runs out and everyone gets tired and/or heads off to private functions while the hosts try to pick up the passed out guy in the corner and realize someone puked in the tub. No, none of that for us! So, though many folks (rightfully) complained about him, the fire marshal is my new best friend. Besides, he provided the running gag for the whole weekend!

No, YOU'RE a fire hazard!

Fire Hazard photo courtesy of Wes Wilson.


SW and I headed back to our room where she got a fit of the hiccups so she crashed while I wandered around a bit. A lot of people complimented me on the party, particularly the soundtrack. I told ‘em to tell the other party DJ’s to give up on computer generated techno industrial racket and play some real fuckin’ music, but I know that’s not gonna happen at most convention parties.

I hit the bed sometime around 3:30. There was still plenty going on but I was hammered, and pretty well beat from my long day.

Disclaimer and Previous Fantasm Reviews Thursday - Fantasm Fannies Thursday - Prom Friday - Afunkalypse Saturday

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