I met Tim Buckley for the first time at the very first Anime Boston. He came up to me and said, “Hi, I’m Tim Buckley.” I said, “Hi there, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Mookie.” Tim’s response was “Mookie? That is a funny name that does not please Tim Buckley. I shall call you Citrus Kennedy Biscuit Jones III.” And before I could say another word, he lifted me up over a table and drilled me into the earth’s crust. Years later, he ambushed me outside of my favorite comic book store.
Hawk and Ananth are actually professional wrestlers. I’ve seen their tights and everything. “Darkhawk” and “Ananthaconda” are the defending tag team champions of the UMW… Ultimate Mookie Wrestling. Basically, whenever they see me they put on their outfits and beat the holy hell out of me. Their big finisher, the “Man on Man Thigh Chest Press,” is every bit as unpleasant as it sounds.
I met Brian Clevinger for the first time at the very first ConnectiCon. I came up to him and said, “Hey, I drew that guest comic for you of White Mage taking all her clothes off for Black Mage. I’m a big fan.” Brian’s response was, “I hated it” and he bit my face off. I had to go chasing him around the convention, all the while he waved my face in the air shouting, “Faceless Mookie! Faceless Mookie!” When I finally tracked him down, he gave me my face back, but he’d drawn a moustache on it. With a sharpie.
Matt and Ian are the worst ninjas I have ever seen. When I first met them at the very first ConnectiCon, they tried to “sneak” behind me by standing on their tippie-toes and actually saying “Sneak, sneak sneak” with each step. I said, “Um, what are you guys doing?” Their response was to shout something in what they think must’ve been Japanese and stick bamboo into my ears. I was found the next morning by the convention staff strung up by my toenails in the ladies’ room.
While I’ve never met Pascalle and Chris in person, they have made their presence known to me. One day I was sitting down to dinner when a giant robot crashed through my roof and scooped me up into its mechanical clutches. It said, “Courtesy of Pascalle and Chris.” Then it dressed me up in a violet leotard and threw me at Greenland. It missed.
Trish and Damien are actually quite religious. They worship a little-known god named Ploot, a half-toaster, half-zebra, and half-podiatrist deity from New Jersey. Trish and Damien introduced me to their religion in the only way Ploot allows them to… via human sacrifice. Trish strapped me to the altar with various bits of lace and Damien burrowed into my chest with a spork. It was around the second time they put me through this ritual that I started to get irritated.
When I first met Garth and Larom, they were making love. Not to each other, obviously. No, they were making love to the whole world. The way they went about this was flinging slingshots at people’s heads and shouting, “Pizza crust!” I asked them why they thought this was a good way to make love to the world and what pizza crusts had to do with it? I don’t remember what their answer was. All I remember was waking up two days later in Switzerland with a pizza crust around my head like a halo.
Brian Carroll and Aido have a unique way of showing affection for one another, as it has somehow come to involve me. Brian has been known to say, “Oh darling” to Aido while smearing mustard all over my face. Aido has been known to reply to this by kicking me square in the kneecaps. Brian has been known to say, “Oh sweetie-pie” to Aido while forcing me to write a novel. Aido has been known to reply to this by encasing me in a block of ice. When they get into a fight… well… I’m still trying to figure out how they got me to join the AARP.
Hey Declan! Eat dirt, ya jerk!
Josh Mirman and I are both from Long Island. While I see this as a reason for camaraderie, Josh sees this as a reason for competition. I was walking home from grocery shopping one day when Josh came up to me on the street and hit me… with Long Island.
Dave Lister has no mouth. If you’ve ever seen him at a convention “talking” to you, don’t be fooled. It’s actually his sentient facial hair prying his face apart in a mockery of speech. His lips? Scar tissue. His words and sentences? Pre-recorded. His intentions? World domination. When I uncovered this ghastly truth, Dave Lister and his fiendish follicles punished me with the closest, cleanest shave I’ve ever gotten.
Shawn Handyside still thinks he’s more metal than me. He went out of his way to prove this by transferring his brain into a robotic body. Unfortunately for him, the mechanical body couldn’t beat me at Guitar Hero because its fingers were too clunky. Unfortunately for me, Mecha-Shawn has laser beam eyes.
I first met Nami and Jekka at Katsucon two years ago. They floated into view, carried aloft on divine clouds and heralded by a choir of angels. I said, “Hi there.” They replied in unison, “Hi there. It’s nice to meet you.” One of the angels, obviously a seraphim, placed a blessing upon me by slapping me square in the jaw with its wing. Nami and Jekka laughed their heavenly laughter and ordered their entire choir to “bless the Mookie.” Many of my teeth are still scattered throughout Virginia.