So there Goose and I are, looking like golden gods at The Bluebird on Friday night, minding our own business and expecting to be sleepin' on 20s, as is the tradition when we enter costume contests in Bloomington. But who shows up with a bunch of his vociferous gamer friends? Link from Zelda. I've always kind of hated Zelda with a burning passion, and Friday night amplified that hatred five-hundred-fold. We were pitted against Link in the first round of the costume contest, and I am still terribly confused as to how anyone with a conscience could yell for that Peter Pan looking motherfucker. But they did. And we lost. To a grown man dressed as Link. In the first round. Because his friends were at the front of the stage and yelled louder than our friends who were not able to get to the front of the stage because Link's gamer friends were already up there. Do you know how embarrassing it is to have the greatest costume of all-time and lose to a fucking wood sprite with a shield? Notwithstanding when I lost my virginity, it was the most humiliating 48 seconds my life. We didn't even get to sing "You've Lost That Loving Feeling" (which obviously would have changed things, especially if we would have sung it to the guy in the wheelchair next to us on stage who was dressed as a "breast examiner"). Both the contest emcee and the drummer for the band told us that we got robbed. Yeah, great. That's about as consoling as a double shot of Malort after you've puked your brains out all over the chest of some chick dressed as slutty Margaret Thatcher who you were trying to hook up with. Needless to say, I hate Link. We didn't even stick around the Bird for the conclusion of the contest. In Hallows Eves future, Mav and Goose will be traveling with an entourage of at least forty, or at least going to bar where the clientele was born before the movie containing my costume's character was released, or, if all else fails, to a gay bar.
Seriously, though, who wouldn't scream their lungs out for these guys? People I hate, that's who.