The Con

Okay, this story is based on true events. Anybody who knows me knows how much I like film, comics, comics, comics, and did I mention comics? This is hands down is my favorite story I've written so far. Enjoy...

The Con
Chapter 1: The Rules
Louis did not know the rules. Not just any rules, but the rules about the Con. The annual Comic Book Convention, endearingly known to all geeks and nerds as “The Con,” was the event that had rules. Louis thought they would be easy to handle and live by. Never had he imagined a more rigid structure than what would be presented to him by his two friends, Greaser Boy and Pompadour. As they casually smoked their Marlboros, Greaser Boy and Pompadour began running off the rules to Louis.
“Okay Buddy, rule number one, at the front of the line is the fat comic geek more than likely wearing a grease-stained Wolverine T-shirt and glasses, he is leader of the Freaky Four,” said Greaser Boy. He exhaled the smoke through his nostrils.
“Rule number two, the fat comic geek does not travel alone but with his trusty sidekick, the short kid, you’ll know which one he is because he is never more than two feet away from his weighty friend,” said Pompadour. He took a long drag and then exhaled it through his nostrils as well.
“Rule three, these two kids have two other friends, there is always the ‘dark one’ the kid that dresses like he’s a Goth but really is just a little poseur trying to get some Goth chick’s attention. Your ten-year old sister could take him in a fight and beat his ass so bad he’ll wake up screaming for a year,” said Greaser Boy. He took a long drag and then put out his smoke.
“Rule four, besides the short and fat duo and the Goth, there is what we like to call ‘Li’l Skater Dude’ you know the one I’m talking about, the one who has his Spitfire shirt and Independent circle cross patch on the backpack he always carries though he never really skates,” said Greaser Boy. He spat on the concrete.
“Rule five, with their total and complete lack of cohesiveness they have managed to get here three and a half days early and rule the front of the line,” Pompadour said. He finished his cigarette and ground the butt beneath the heel of his Harley boot.
“Rule six,” said Greaser Boy.
“Wait a minute, how many goddamn rules are there you guys?” said Louis. He scratched his short-cropped hair and began smoking one of his cigarettes.
“Look man, you gotta listen to us ‘cause we’re pros, we know because we have experienced this stuff first hand, you’re just fresh meat,” said Pompadour.
“Still wet behind the ears and he thinks he knows all the rules,” Greaser Boy said. He pulled out his pocket comb and let it glide through his pompadour.
“Look man, do you know what to do when you see the abominable fat kid running toward you as he sees you’ve got the final Frank Miller issue of his Daredevil run that completes his collection of Mylar bagged mint condition comic books? Do you know what to do?” barked Pompadour. He stared Louis straight in the eyes.
Louis looked down at the pavement and focused on a black glob that had once been some person’s chewing gum. He took a drag off his cigarette and waited as the dynamic duo of Greaser Boy and Pompadour illuminated him to the nuances of the comic convention horror stories.
“I asked you a question man, do you know what to do?” said Pompadour.
“Sure, pay for it and if he follows me around, kick his ass,” said Louis.
“Wrong, chances are these geeks came with one of their parents and more than likely it was their mom that came. Moms you do not fuck with man,” said Pompadour.
“We once saw this one mother take out four big dudes with huge muscles after she saw what they did to her fat ass kid and his geeky buddies,” said Greaser Boy. He cringed.
“Tell him,” said Pompadour. He looked Greaser Boy in the face.
“You tell him.” “No, I wasn’t’ there, you have to tell him, just in case we get separated,” said Pompadour.
“Fine,” said Greaser Boy.
“Tell me what?” Louis said.
“Well, this one time I came with my older brother, Slick, well, there was this huge fight as we started to enter. I mean bodies were flying everywhere and every which way man, it was crazy, and all for a stupid toy. A goddamn Power Ranger action figure given only that day and never put on the market,” said Greaser Boy.
“So what’s so bad about that?” said Louis.
“You ever seen a sixty pound kid get crushed by a two hundred and fifty pound ten year old running full speed to dive for a toy?” said Greaser Boy.
“No.”
“Well, neither had I till that morning and man, I can’t stop thinking about the way that poor kid screamed and yelled for his parents, but they couldn’t hear him cause they were at those plastic baby cleaning stations in the bathrooms they have now,” said Greaser Boy. He looked around and continued.
“They point of the story is this, if anything lands on the floor in there, let it go man, just let it go, I’ve seen arms come off and people get beat over the head with prosthetics,” Greaser Boy said.
“What does that have to do with getting separated?” said Louis. He finished his cigarette.
“You will get separated, that’s part of the Con and that’s also one of the inevitabilities of the Con buddy. You will see many strange and wondrous things here and your mind will expand to accept them, but beware the greediness that the Con brings with it and you will also see the monstrosities that step through those glass doors,” said Pompadour. He lifted his right hand and pointed with his index finger at the plate-glass windows of the convention center.
“So now that you know, rule six, never eat anything produced in there. Only drink sodas and water that come in plastic containers,” said Greaser Boy.
“Rule seven, stay away from the porno section, once a Goth kid sees you he’ll try and hit you up till you finally blab out your real age and find yourself buying him Goth Girls Dungeon Pleasures 7. And at this place undercover cops work to bust people trying to make an easy five bucks, so don’t fall for it, got it?” said Greaser Boy.
“Got it man, now, is that all?” Louis said.
“Actually no, Rule number eight, go to the bathroom in pairs, less likely to get jacked by one of the Freaky Four, and trust me, once you cross one of their paths, you’re marked pal, worse than that guy in the Fritz Lang movie ‘M.’ Trust us, Peter Lorrie never had it as bad as anyone marked by the Freaky Four,” said Pompadour.
“Rule nine, we eat at the same time and together, once again, less of a chance at getting jacked in large numbers,” said Greaser Boy.
“Rule ten, the most important, you’re still outnumbered four to three, take cheap shots and aim for the crotch, the little buggers go down harder and faster than a Hollywood hooker at New Year’s Eve,” said Pompadour.
“Anything else, oh Masters of the Force?” said Louis. He chuckled.
“Yeah, don’t bag on the Force dude, you wanna give us bad Karma or what?” said Greaser Boy.
“Look guys, it’s just a fucking comic book convention, nothing is going to happen. You both make it sound worse than prison,” Louis said.
“Rule eleven, stay away from the Goth chicks, you don’t wanna know where they’ve been, ‘cause chances are they are famous in certain circles,” said Pompadour.
“Say what?” Louis said.
Chapter 2: The Goth Chick
“Okay, so this one Con, Pompadour and myself come to check out that Joseph Michael Linsner dude, you know the one, he draws that really hot redhead, Dawn, anywho, as we’re getting to his booth this hot looking Goth chick comes over and asks us if we have any cigarettes, I ran out but this lucky bastard right here had some left,” Greaser Boy said.
“Yeah, so she comes over and I hand her one and light it for her, not even thinking about getting her number or anything like that, but, as it turns out she wants someone to walk her over to the Linsner guy and explain her artwork to him because she was so nervous, hence the smoke before meeting him,” said Pompadour. He smiled and blinked his right eye.
“Okay. So what happened that it made the eleventh rule?” said Louis.
“After meeting Linsner she invited us to a party at her hotel room, so we, in gesture of pure sincerity and friendship, accepted,” said Greaser Boy.
“See, as we headed back to the girl’s hotel room, we didn’t know she was really popular at the Con, until we got there and had to get in line to go inside her room,” said Greaser Boy.
“What do you mean?” Louis asked.
“I mean we had to take fucking numbers like in the goddamn market buddy, and all we thought we were gonna do was party with her and meet some of her Goth friends, but no, this chick just wanted us for herself,” said Greaser Boy.
“The worst part of the whole fiasco was that on her door she had times and price ranges along with other services rendered for ungodly prices,” said Pompadour.
“Tell me about it, five bucks just so she could make me a sandwich, do you believe that?” said Greaser Boy.
“Uh, Greaser Boy, I don’t think she was going to make you a sandwich for five buck,” said Louis.
“Oh yes she was, she had the prices on the door just like I told you, and sandwich making was one of them. Supposedly she made her own bread, or so the legends go,” Greaser Boy said.
“Well, you guys know what they say about legends,” said Louis.
“What?” Greaser Boy and Pompadour said.
“Every legend has an ounce of truth to it,” Louis said.
Chapter 3: The Freaky Four Strike
Screeching sounds made by brand new tennis shoes bought specifically for this day were heard throughout the convention hall, along with crying babies strapped to their parent’s chests suicide bomber style, screaming fanboys hollering for their moms to bring them their money as they completed their Dan Jurgens run of Superman comics. Colorful banners held aloft signaled important companies and let attendants know where freebies could be had. Pompadour and Greaser Boy waited in line for sodas and water while Louis leaned against a wall. Two Goth girls walked by in bikini bottoms and fishnet tops. One winked at Louis and smiled. He raised his eyebrows and threw the inevitable How-you-doin’ look at her. She laughed and Louis looked away from her.
“Hey man, you want anything from here?” said Pompadour.
“No thanks,” said Louis.
“Are you sure, maybe some ice cold water to cool you off after being burned so bad a second ago?” Greaser Boy said. He laughed.
“You saw that?” said Louis.
“The Great and Powerful Oz sees everything,” Pompadour said. “You’re pathetic man, we told you to stay away from those girls man, they only lead down the dark path.”
“Yes Master Yoda,” said Louis. He bowed to Pompadour.
“Hey, you knocking Master Yoda, man?” Pompadour said.
“No, why?” said Louis. He walked over to Pompadour.
“Because if you want to go round and round we can buddy, I have no problem with that, especially if you’re dissing Master Yoda,” Pompadour said.
“Lay off the drama, both of you, we came to have a good time and not worry about the rest of the week until Sunday night,” said Greaser Boy.
“How the hell am I supposed to have a good time with all your goddamn rules, don’t do this, don’t touch that, don’t hold your dick like that while you’re taking a piss, but spin three times before you pee just in case the fat kids see you. I mean, come on guys, we’re like ten years older than these stupid kids, you guys really do sound ridiculous,” Louis said.
“Excuse me simple mortals, would you be willing to move down the line or step aside to allow Wolverine and his trusty sidekick to partake in beverage buying?” said the leader of the Freaky Four.
“No, we are not letting you go ahead of us you little twerps, now get behind us,” Louis said.
“What, has someone insulted the best there is at what he does?” said the leader.
“I think he did Melvin, uh, I mean Wolvie,” said the short kid.
“I think we should teach him a lesson he’ll remember for ages,” said the Goth kid.
“Yeah man, let me hit him with my board man, come on,” said Li’l Skater Dude.
“Oh my God,” Louis said.
“I told your stupid ass not to piss ‘em off, but did you listen, no, Mr. Louis thinks he’s too good to abide by Con’s eternal rules,” said Greaser Boy.
“Look, our friend is new here and doesn’t know the rules, he’s a new guy, so why don’t we forget this happened and you can go ahead of us,” said Pompadour.
“Okay, since he’s fresh meat, but next time,” said the leader. “Next time your carcass belongs to the Wolverine, snikt, snikt, just like that.”
“Okay, I’ve heard just about all I can handle,” said Louis.
He grabbed the leader by shirt collar and tossed him into the soda stand.
“Holy crap, do you know what you just did?” said Pompadour.
Louis looked around and saw everyone was staring at him. They slowly surrounded him.
“This is not looking good,” said Greaser Boy. He shook his head.