WEDNESDAY!

5.00pm
Me and my friend arrive at the Gaylord National Hotel and Convention Centre a day before MAGfest officially starts so we can help out with some of the 300 things that need doing. We’re humble.

5.30pm
This place is gigantic. It is deemed the Water Temple by the first con-goers to struggle in and gaze at the enormity of it all.

6.00pm
I start my shift. I am to direct cars and vans around the outside of the hall and make sure none of them drive across. Due to my amazing directing skills, Madden ’92 is not re-enacted.

8.00pm
During my break, pizza is devoured by myself and various other people I only know by names on screen at a local. We step in and are stared at, despite looking relatively normal (i.e. no dog collars) Everyone sort of awkwardly stands around waiting to be seated until I go up to a waiter who’s doing nothing but staring and ask him ”Do you want money or not?” We are seated and given the fucking greasiest pizzas I’ve ever had the misfortune of eating and I vow to never eat another one whilst in America ever again.

12.00pm
Four hours of directing and hugging everybody that moves, I retreat to the staff sleeping room.

12.30am
I am woken up by heavy fucking.

12.45am
I wait until they finish to innocently ask if I can use the shitter now.

THURSDAY!

10.00am
MAGfest officially starts! Except it doesn’t. The Sellers/Gaming Room isn’t open until ”2pm or whenever we’re ready”

10.30am
After not much sleep, I make cereal Robinson Crusoe style.

It worked eventually. Supposedly healthy cereal in America tastes sugary than Frosties in England. YOU’RE ALL FAT AND DRINK E-COLI.

11.00am
I ask a MAGfest rep where I can find timetables and schedules. I am asked if I have iTunes. If you have an Android, iPad etc. you can check timetables online. If you don’t?

I told her I was poor and didn’t have money for an overpriced gadget and despite being an owner of such a device, she agreed. What is this madness?

1.00pm
I bump into Jayson Napolitano and Dale North who both know me as the guy ”who pissed off OCRemix one time” for OSV. In a bizarre scene, Jayson tries to convince me it was good and I insist that it was dire. ”I’m telling you I’m crap! Stop arguing!”

2.00pm
Gaming/Sellers rooms aren’t open. It’s all part of MAGfest’s charm. The queue is long as hell anyway, so I browse for other things to do.

RANDOM ENCOUNTER
Kudos to MAGfest for trying new bands on the main stage, even if R.E. could do with more spit and polish. There’s a lot of stuff they do well, including mixing One Winged Angel and Purple Haze(!) together, but there’s a lot of their noise that needs refining, including their non-VG stuff. Without sounding rude, IT’S MAGFEST. Their accordion either works really well or sounds like fucking death. They do however redeem themselves with covers of Jurassic Park and Ren and Stimpy’s Happy Happy Joy Joy Song.

DESCENDANTS OF ERDRICK
Their first MAGfest and they’re already playing like they’re headlining. Just a stunning set made up of Double Dragon 2 medleys, Magus from Chrono Trigger and Final Fantasy IV. A Botchamania fan tried to talk to me during the lull in between songs but as soon as the familiar fawns of the Ninja Gaiden II intro started I had to tell him ”Not now mate, I’M IN THE ZONE”. Please come back next year, I don’t care how awkward your name is.

10.00pm
MAGfest has got to the point where the event is possibly TOO big. It’s simply impossible to see every band and still be able to socialise, panel, play games and walk unless you have the cardio of Bob Backlund. I chill for a bit after the bands to lose horribly at a You Don’t Know Jack tournament, despite being cheered by a man dressed as El Generico. I miss Temp Sound Solutions deliberately as everyone told me they wouldn’t be very good and spend the rest of the weekend being told how great they were. Friggin’ typical. I also sadly have to miss Rare Candy, Search Snake and others because of my weak limb. Much love to you anyway.

11.50pm
I walk to my panel flanked by a squad of fans, well-wishers and drunks. I feel like fucking Goldberg.

12.00pm
The panel starts! It is mostly a success. The technical issues of last year are there again, but it only strengthened the panel, as I was able to go ”See? In life, mistakes happen. It’s how you deal with mistakes that makes life interesting” but it goes unheard amidst the throng of JESSSSUSSSS and MAH FAHV FIVE shouts. Bill De Gallo sits by my side and contributes nothing, meaning I now have a Sean Fausz of my own. I expect the health issues and loss of talent to follow soon. The panel works by me showing my retrospective TOP TEN BOTCHES OF THE YEAR video (spoiler: Hardy/Sting wins) and I then planned on turning it into a big debate like how last year’s panel ended up. However, I am foiled somewhat by most of the crowd being more sober this time or just plain star-struck by everything I’m saying that most of the crowd just stare at me in wonder rather than disagree. I wasn’t expecting to talk the entire time so I’m slightly off-centre and talk about the fucking Mexicools, lWo and Kerwin White rather than most of 2011. This slightly overwhelming feeling aside, the joy of watching a crowd full of people cheer wildly at the intro for Inane Booker T Commentary and SEND FOR THE MAN warms my heart.

C+ Can Do Better

Here’s a bit of it. You can hear what I’m saying so it’s already better than last year’s.

The view from my panel. I was told my the staff most of the room-count that day had been 8-10 people so I was happier than a big in shit. Thanks again to everybody who showed up and made me feel like a big deal.

More to come!