Mr. Cellophane

In a location adjacent to a place in a city of some significance, what comes out of my head is plastered on the walls of this blog.

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Sunday, 12:00am

"What do you mean, 'he's not here'?"

Monty advances on me. "I'll try again in English: he's not here."

"We each got back around ten. He's gone." Lila glances from the bed.

"Where do you think he went?"

"Hell if I know."

"I don't know about you, but I'm going back to bed."

"Me too. Glen knows the way."

"Yeah." I strip my clothes off and settle into bed. At last, there's room on one of the beds. Still, what the hell happened to him?


I get up. Everyone else seems to be dressed, but they don't look very excited.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know about you, but we're headed for the airport."

"But there's one more day of Con."

"Yeah. Sunday."

"Besides, there's only so many times I can watch that "Buffy" episode with a crowd."

"Well, I want to get the full four day experience."

"Do whatever you want."

"I will."


What a bunch of babies. I don't need them. I just need these next few hours of fun. Ah, pancakes. Breakfast of champions.


My shuttle bus pulls up. Those guys don't know what their missing. I get off the bus.


Maybe, it's the performers or the stories or something in the water, but I find myself drawn to these direct-to-DVD "Scooby-Doo" movies. This new one, "Frankencreepy", looks decent.


I head for the show floor. Time to take advantage of discounts.

The crowd gathered around the comic has recommiserated. Action Comics #1 is gone.

I turn around. Pictures of the Con-victs flash across a big screen.

I'm not sure if my picture has appeared yet. I run the hell out of there.


Okay, I probably should be hiding, but I want to see at least one more panel before I get pinched.

What better one than "Cartoon Voices"?


All right. I've managed to avoid capture and let go of my stress, for now. All I need now is to find a way to get back to the hotel. No doubt the drivers have been made aware.


I'm not quite out of the center yet. I just need to get past that gathering of "Adventure Time" cosplayers. Man, those guys don't mess around.

A hand grabs my shoulder. My heart stops right then and there. I fall out.

It's Angelica. "Whoa. Are you okay?"

"Sort of."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with your picture on a screen in the show floor, would it?"

"Hashtag, Craigslist, six people in one room, curfew, mad haxxor skills."

"I didn't understand one word of that."

"The threat of incarceration tends to jumble my thoughts."

"Well, you best get the fudge out."

"I'm trying." I hurry off.

I'm almost at the exit. Better slow my roll, so as not to arouse suspicion.

"Hey!", I hear someone shout from high above me.

And that plan's down the tubes. I doubt this would've happened at C2E2.


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