Actually, The People Are Great: Anything Else I Might Say On The Subject Is Purely For Comic Effect
I'm not a joiner. In fact, I have been known to start clubs just so that I could turn down membership in them. When it comes to not joining, Groucho Marx was an amateur in comparison!
Despite this, I am a member of the Klingon Assault Group (KAG), a Star Trek fan club. What can I say? Klingons can be very persuasive. Also: the food at KAG Feasts is really tasty (so long as you don't ask what it's actually made of).
KAG had a booth at this year's Fan Expo to promote the group and raise money for the Kid's Help Phone (apparently, some other group had already spoken for the Support the Victims of Romulan Aggression Fund). As a member of KAG, I was invited to join them; I growled in accepted Klingon fashion to say that I would be happy to.
At the time, I only had a gold vest to wear, which I gather is a form of Klingon underwear. Oh, well - we all have to start somewhere, right?
I Know They're Just Messing With My Head...
...but it's working! It's really working!
Too Bad It Hadn't Been A Real BattleOne highlight of Fan Expo was Saturday's march through the Convention Centre that ended in a broad aisle for a photo shoot. There we were, a V-formation of seven Stormtroopers against seven Klingons in a mind-boggling media mash-up!
I had been given the Klingon uniform of somebody who had fallen in battle (to a cold). It came with a gun, which felt good on my hip during the march; unfortunately, just before we got in place for the photo shoot, Krikor, the leader of KAG, asked me to give the weapon to him. Obviously, I would have to pass a Klingon weapons safety course before I would be allowed to use it in simulated battle with characters from a different canon...or, okay, maybe the photos would look better if the leader of the battle group had a weapon rather than me. Klingon leaders don't really need to give reasons.
I did my best to lean forward menacingly and put my right arm to my side as if I was about to draw a weapon. The effect was probably ruined by the fact that the empty holster was clearly visible on my left hip; I figure I looked about as menacing as the Ontario Ghostbusters' six foot tall Stay-Puft marshmallow man (which, being down the aisle from us, mocked me for the rest of the con). I'm pretty sure I could beat the marshmallow man in a fair fight, but...uhh...it would probably be for the best if I took that Klingon weapons safety course first!
It's Not A Pout - It's A Grimace! A...A...A War Grimace!
I could be a Klingon Sure I could! Don't you feel the menace? - and I don't even have the forehead ridges yet! Of course, five seconds after this picture was taken, I had to give the gun back to Alex, not to mention the uniform, which prompted the question: do Klingons pout?
Then, He Bit The Head Off One Just To Drive The Point Home
Web Goddess Gisela McKay, who is also a KAG member, brought Caesar salad on Sunday to feed the hungry...Kid's Help Phone warriors. A member of the 501st Legion, a Star Wars fan club that had a booth across the aisle from ours, commented that salad didn't seem like a very Klingony food.
Krikor cast a steely gaze the guy's way and growled, "Anchovies!"
The Inevitable Sequel Will Never Match The Original Costume
I had heard about the costume long before I saw it, but nothing could prepare me for the awesomeness that was...Sharknado!
The Cleaning Staff Were Probably Hungarian - They're Always The Toughest Judges!
I'm not a big fan of bad physical comedy, so I avoid it all costs. No matter how many times I have explained this, friends feel the need to point out when my shoelaces are tied (even though I have never had a shoelace-related BPC incident in my life). However, a golden opportunity came my way at Fan Expo, and I like to think I made the most of it.
Picture it: a wet floor, sneakers with little tread, a man rushing headlong into a tiled bathroom in order to wash the anchovies and dressing out of an otherwise empty salad bowl. Before I knew it, my back was approaching the floor, but I had the good sense to go limp so I wouldn't sustain more damage than necessary.
I lay on my back for a few seconds, getting over the surprise and shock that I was there in the first place; under the circumstances, the ceiling tiles were quite entertaining. When I got to my feet, I was disappointed to learn that the only witnesses to my act of humour were two members of the facility's cleaning staff. Grinning, I asked, "Was it a 10?" Apparently, they didn't think much of my performance, scurrying past me without making eye contact.
Okay, there may have been some residual shock.
My battle with the hostile bathroom floor left me scarred, but they are scars that any Klingon would be proud to bear! (I wonder if I can get a decoration out of the incident for my uniform...?)
Uhh, Yeah - Did I Mention That My Klingon Vocabulary Is....Limited? Highly Limited? Practically Non-existent, If You Want The Truth...
Kreplach!
