“What goes on in 336 stays in 336… at least until I write my review.”

Atlanta traffic totally reeks of heinosity.

As per custom, Neil and I got off to a later start than expected, which got us pimp-slapped by the long arm of rush-hour traffic. Maybe next year we can convince ourselves that AWA starts on the Thursday before- maybe that way we can actually arrive early for a change. At any rate, we were en route and lugging the necessities; toiletries (as not to contribute to Con-Funk), clothing (as to prevent fangirls from swooning and fanboys from weeping in despair), enough alcohol to inebriate a herd of bull elephants, and of course, videogames galore. A couple of Game Boy Advances’, a Dreamcast, and thanks to Neil’s prodding, my Playstation 2. “We might want to watch some DVD’s this weekend!” he explained.

“Bull crap,” I think. “You just want to play Dynasty Warriors 2, you prick.”

At any rate, we eventually find the new facilities, which appears to be much larger than last year’s. Not quite as nice as the Ravinia, true, but we were pretty sure we wouldn’t be back there. We give Josh and Charles (already on the premises) a call, and soon we hook up outside of the convention center.

“Wow,” I think. “Since registration closes at six, maybe I should go and get our badges?”

 Mission: Obtain badges, and inspect the new facilities

 Seeing as registration was closing within the next (*examines watch*) thirty or so seconds, I didn’t get much of an opportunity to do the latter. Even so, the signs of AWA were very apparent- costumes aplenty, along with fanboys and girls alike were the order of the day, with your fair assortment of bewildered convention center staff lurking about. A smile crossed my face as the realization dawned upon me that AWA 2K1 was here- it was officially show time once again.

 It took a split second, but after passing numerous video rooms, I managed to locate the Pre-Reg room, and obtained both Neil (Triple N) and my (Mani- did you think it would be otherwise?) badges. We had officially arrived.

 Mission: Accomplished

 The next order of business was checking in at the Holiday Inn Select, AKA The Backup Hotel- I’m making it a point to reserve the room nice and early next year. This particular hotel wasn’t all that bad, but it was the first time that I hadn’t gotten a room at the official one. After lugging our massive amounts of luggage (of which 90% consisted of video game related goods) to the lobby and checking in (which involved me begging and pleading for four room keys instead of just two), we went upstairs and laid claim to what would be our territory for the next few days.

 Room 336 is now known as Outer_Heaven

 After taking a moment to discuss the lay of the land with both Charles and Josh, we decide to inspect the facilities. The first thing we noticed was that this particular room was much smaller than the one we had last time- it would appear the we would have to be more selective this year in regards to who we invite to our drunken orgy this weekend. Despite the room’s lack in space, it did possess a nice-sized refrigerator, which rendered the two coolers we had brought along somewhat obsolete- nonetheless, Room 336 possessed the potential to be the Best Room Ever ™, had it not been for one minor gripe-

As any con-whore will gladly explain to you, there is special reverence paid to He/She That Wields Needle-Nose Pliers, that being the fact that they are the one force that can negate that damned blasted black box on the back of hotel TV’s that prevents the hooking up of videogame systems. Josh was given the holy duty of bringing them this year, and by not doing so, subjected himself to a barrage of threats and violent tauntings from the tribe. Sure, maybe I had forgotten to bring a Link Cable for our Game Boy Advance’s, but dammit, that’s something minor! Josh did, however, inform us that UGA’s anime club had practically commandeered the entire floor above us at the hotel, and as Neil and I both reasoned, if anyone at this convention had a pair of needle-nose pliers, it would be one of those bastards. With that thought in mind, Neil, wearing his infamous Playboy Photographer shirt, and me, smiling like a crack-fiend, decided to introduce ourselves to the neighbors.

Mission: Obtain pair of needle-nose pliers

Finding one of the doors cracked in the section taken over by the UGAnime crew, we knocked, and introduced ourselves to the young lady that answered, explaining our plight- after a moment’s pause, she went back inside to check with her associates;

Neil and I attempted to refrain from laughing, but failed quite miserably.

Having failed our task, we decided that once we went out to go hunting for food, we’d make it a point to find someplace that sold them- we would sooner die than be denied of our gaming. “Cool,” I commented, nodding slowly to myself. “But keep in mind,” I reminded Neil, the driver for the evening. “That I’m supposed to be meeting a bunch of friends of mine at 9:00.”

Cue flashback sequence:

Quite some time ago, several friends of mine on the AWA Message Board decided to get together and have an old-school Final Fantasy cosplay group. It was agreed upon that we would all meet at 9:00pm, at a location to be determined. Our friend Lank, resident Red Mage Pimp, DDR Demigod, and coordinator of this massive shindig, posted a message on the bulletin board at the con, letting us all know that things were going to go down at the lobby at the appointed time. Being the local Black Mage of the crew, it was my duty… nay, my destiny… to be there with my Final Fantasy brothers and sisters.

Added Objective: In addition to the needle-nosed pliers, obtain food, and be back in time for the Final Fantasy Photo Op.

Numerous concerns were voiced about the group in regards to finding a suitable place to eat. There was a Ruby Tuesdays right next to the hotel, but we imagined that it was quite swamped at that point. We figured that we could drive around and explore a bit, and hopefully not get mugged in the process.

“Oh relax,” I chimed. “The neighborhood’s not THAT bad.”

And then we turned the corner.

Why is it that every time I enter a bad neighborhood with my pale Caucasian and Asian associates, I am suddenly promoted to the rank of Bad Neighborhood Ambassador? As in, all questions are suddenly directed towards me, as if I have an understanding of the inner workings of crappy areas. C’mon, I live in Decatur… it’s not THAT bad!

And for the record guys, I’m about as pale as you all!

At any rate, we did some driving about the area, looking for places to get our grub on, and to also locate a store that might possess our much-needed needle-nosed pliers. Of course Radio Shack was closed, as was just about any other place that might have been of any help. However, we did stumble across a dollar store; if we couldn’t find them there, then we were sure that we could find something that we could mutilate into working.

The store itself was pretty large, and pretty empty, save two guys sitting in chairs in the back of the store, conversing as if we weren’t even present. I could only assume that they worked there, and weren't taking a break from robbing the place. We wander about the store to no avail, but when we go through one of the isles we happen to notice a pair of kitchen shears, that claimed to be able to cut through just about anything. Providing we didn’t cut the cable to the TV, they’d have to do. Satisfied, we walk to the front of the store.

For those of you working retail jobs, listen up. I have something I’d like to share with you.

If someone is standing at the front counter at your place of employment with items in hand, and they wave over to your lazy ass sitting in the back of store, do not, do not, DO NOT think that he is just being friendly, and simply wave back and return to your conversation. Chances are, they want/need you to ring them up!

Once rung up, we return to the hotel, victorious in our mission.

Mission: Accomplished

Well now, this could potentially suck.

After practically inhaling half of my combo, I immediately sprung into action in regards to packing up my magely getup for the jaunt across the street. See, it was like this- under normal circumstances I would have just worn it over there, but there were several factors working against me. First off, it was night, and nights tend to be dark. This normally would not have been a problem, but crossing a stretch of street late at night, with cars zipping back and forth with drivers that probably don’t give a rat’s bum about my safety, all while wearing a black robe (not the easiest item of clothing to sprint in, I’ll have you know), I decided it would be best to change at the convention center 

[Note to self: Reserve room EARLY for next year’s con.]

Mission: Arrive at the Final Fantasy Photo Op

As I skate through the lobby, I catch a quick glimpse of both Rianu (manly-White Mage-type) and Lank (pimp-Red Mage-type) in the lobby, already assembling for the festivities.

Crap crap crappity-crap!

Walking into a restroom and seeing a guy donning a black robe and mask might be considered strange under most circumstances, but this wasn’t most circumstances- this was AWA. After a few minutes of preparation and fighting with Ye Olde Massive Straw Hat, I was prepared to go.

Mission: Accomplished

Old School!

The tribe consisted of…

Lank- I remembered Lank from last year, when him, Ian and me were in the lobby discussing everything from Final Fantasy Tactics to Ronin Warriors. The resident pimp-tight Red Mage, I found out that he was just as buck-wild in real life as he is on the message board.

Rianu- Me and ol’ Rianu actually met sometime before AWA, and at a showing of ‘Rocky Horror’ to boot. Our manly- White Mage was hilarious, offering to smite me with Holy on several occasions, while dodging my threats of a Meteo strike.

Zentora- This was the first time I had met her, and she was a pretty interesting gal. We had spoke a few times on the message board, and spoke quite a bit at the photo op. She would be our resident FFV Beast Master (Mistress?), though without the bell, alas. Oh, and she has a website too, but don’t tell her that I told you.

Dia- Female Mog and proprietor of this fine website. I didn’t really get to speak with her much, but she seemed quite cool. There's a nice group shot of us here, as well.

Selphie-Chan – Also representing from FF Tactics was Selphie-Chan, our Female Summoner. Funny girl, and apparently is a fan of Club Ninja! My fans, I love and adore you all!

…And the trio of…

M-Chan- Our female White Mage, and if you recall last year’s review, the Aerith that I was laughing and joking with at one occasion. Very funny girl, and for some odd reason, seems to like Club Ninja’s brand of humor.

Iria- She was to be our Dancer, but hit a few snags; she ended up being Frida from Bust-A-Move instead, which made for some truly interesting pictures with the group. She was the Tifa mentioned in last year’s review, and proprietor of this shamelessly plugged website.

Kyuuto Otome- Out FF Tactic-esque female Archer, and whom I believe was the Yuffie of the trio last year. I recall her despair on the message board in regards to the No Weapons policy, wondering how exactly would people know she was an archer without her bow. Despite this, she looked very much the part, and could have been recognized by anyone that played Tactics.

While we were all getting settled and talking, I happened to catch a glimpse of a massive Vivi from FFIX standing nearby, who proceeded to run over to me, arms extended, and shout “Cousin!!” to which I nearly collapse and scream “Oh my goodness!” This was one truly magnificent Vivi, I’ll have you all know. I even got a chance to meet the lady under the costume sometime on Saturday, who was quite cool (and casually wondered why I wasn’t in costume, representing our Black Mage brethren at the time).

Many pictures were taken of our massive shindig, which can be found floating about on several places online. A good number can be found here- the site’s in French, but don’t hold that against him. I'd have my own up here, but yup, you guessed it- it didn't come out right. Two pics on the entire roll that don't turn out, and one just happens to be of this event... stupid camera...

We laughed, we joked, we had a grand old time, but eventually, we all went our separate ways. And so, having returned to the room with not much else going on in the world, what is a man left to do? Why, play videogames and drink, of course! It looked as if the boys had managed to get that stupid cover off, which meant that the beatings had officially begun. We had a good number of the bases covered; shooters, puzzle, and I pretty much cornered the market in fighting games.

U R NOT E

Street Fighter Alpha 3 and Capcom vs. SNK were both played quite extensively as well, with battles hitting near Dragon Ball Z-level intensities. While I might not be as competitive as those skanks Josh and Neil, that changes when it comes to a 2D fighter. My skills have been honed from the era of the original Street Fighter II, and I’m quite capable of unleashing untold amounts of suffering upon the masses. But if I may be allowed a moment, I would like to say one thing-

Now, where was I? Ah yes...

Ladies, gentlemen, and the rest of you as well, let Uncle Mani tell you a story. See, my friends (well, most of them) aren’t terrible lushes or alcoholics or anything like that, though we have been known to down a drink or eight on occasion. During our many bouts with the old firewater, we’ve always held our own; despite our relative sizes, both Neil and I hold our liquor quite well. Sure, we may get very happy, talkative, and in my case, savagely horny, but we’d never truly been to that brink, the one where you look towards the heavens, reach out to God, and groggily vow to never let another drop of the forbidden nectar to touch your lips again.

Enter the Four Horsemen.

By far the most potent drink this side of Olympus, The Four Horsemen has laid claim to a number of victims throughout its savage reign of terror, including both Neil and I. Any drink that has me making an offer to fornicate with a dumpster (See: Party, Georgia Tech), or has Neil trying to convince everyone that he’s not drunk as he loudly proclaims to be the strongest little 130-pound white man to ever walk the Earth (See: Party, Neil’s 22^nd) is a drink to be feared. When ever and where ever it is consumed, the sober will always have a tale or five of things done while the intoxication is upon us that we may not exactly remember with absolute clarity, but yet it all seems veeery familiar…

And now, I shall share with you the components that make up The Four Horsemen. Be warned- there is definitely a delayed reaction from when you first consume it to when it hits, so be patient. Drink it at your own risk, and never, ever ever EVER drink this when you have to drive… you’ll more than likely have a BAL higher than the average college student’s GPA.

And if you’re under 21, don’t even THINK about trying this.

A shot of The Four Horsemen contains equal portions of the following:

-         Jaegermeister
-         Jack Daniels
-         Goldschlager
-         Tequila 

Stir together, serve, and let the bodies hit the floor.

And as I’m sure you’ve figured, it tastes like absolute booty, but man oh man; any other mixed drink might as well be water next to this monstrosity. We went a bit easy on the Horse that evening (with Charles being the non-drinking type, merely sat back and watched Neil, Josh, and I kill brain cells), vowing to fully unleash it come Saturday. And on Saturday, we did so, and there was much crying and lamenting from the masses…

But that, was another story…

Which, by the way, can be found here: Saturday, AWA 2K1.

Back to The Library