Episode 143: 221B Con 2023
In which we share recordings of drunken shenanigans at the recent 221B Con in Atlanta, GA. Warning for lots of inebriation and laughter as we talk about con and attempt to record a few Drunk Fandom of Interest segments, with varying degrees of success.
Show notes and direct download information at three-patch.com. Or subscribe via RSS or iTunes.
Featuring:
Pre- and post-con reflections with the the TPP staff
Drunker Than Drunk Canon -- listen to our hilarious failure to record a Drunk Fandom of Interest about Check Please, with @sundayduck and @emmagrant01, feat. special guest @avawatson
Drunk Canon: Supernatural -- successful this time, with @sundayduck, @kelly-mads, and @songlin
And find us on social media: Twitter, Instagram, Facebook.
[Art by @foxestacado]
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CPC Episode 143 (Spoilers!)
Okay but like holy shit.
Hello there I'm new to posting about Cursed Princess Club on tumblr but have been reading this wonderful webcomic for over a year and a half at this point, and I need to share my thoughts and reactions about this episode.
Okay so Suzanna seems to be putting some things together, and the military leader dude didn't mention any specifics about attacking the Pastel Kingdom, so I'm still wondering what the specifics are on that whole situation.
Isolde's investigations into Leland's plans were all cool to see, but what I want to theorize on is the "List of Questions to Ask It"
So first off these seem like the questions that Leland wants to ask the omniscient clam. I think that the betrayal thing has to do with Jack and possibly Leland wanting to get rid of any other "enemies" that are close to him. The ham sandwich thing would be funny to see a callback of at some point. And the last one is mighty concerning, but I can't say I'm surprised that Leland would ask that question. I hate him with every fiber of my being.
Also the "Happy Clam Care Guidebook" was funny.
Jamie it's fine, Frederick isn't dead! He's just...not doing very well at the moment.
Lance is still silent whenever we see him so that's a thing of note.
The painting with the CPC!
Okay so watching Lance's facial expressions throughout this episode what stood out to me here was how shocked and startled he was. Like, prior to this he was mostly almost stoic to go with his silence? So yeah this panel stood out to me.
Some humor mixed in with the angst. This trio is amazing.
Also, Leopold's mention of the coast being clear and then this happening?
I'm not okay.
Also, again Lance's facial expression compared to Leland's and Blaine's. He's confused while the other two are more annoyed/angry? I don't know how to interpret this yet but I wanted to point it out.
I don't think I'm prepared for the next episode.
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Smiffina Episodes - Episode 143
We pick up from last episode with the bomb planted at the cinema and the first lot of uniform arriving with Gina to sweep the cinema. Gina's trying to sort evacuation of approx 100 plus people in the targeted screening. The manager is dumbfounded - they've been treating it as a hoax. Surely better to act like it's real and be wrong than the alternative? In the staff not acting, the people inside screen 3 are starting to get messages after the bomb warning is announced by the radio station who received the threat and they start to evacuate. The police try and assist it, however a little girl gets injured in the crush.
I'm amazed that they're only evacuating one screen and y'know - not the entire bloody building! Are only the people in that one screen getting the messages/calls about it? If you heard that there's a potential bomb in a building you were in, would you stick around? After all, how do you know how big/small it is? Why are they thinking it will only take out the one screen potentially? Also this is series 19 which aired August 2003. Yes it's 2 years prior to the 7/7 bombing in London but it is almost 2 years from 9/11. And in 2001 there'd been 5 terrorist bombs centered around London planted by The Real IRA.
CAD is inundated with calls. Smithy asks CSU to act as the call divert to reassure and to gather intelligence. Cathy agrees with a rather breathy and I imagine in her mind seductive "we're all yours" but given what we know about Cathy now - it's much more creepy.
Gina requests Smithy organise back up to her at the cinema. When the room is free, Gina asks Reg and Gabriel with Mickey and cinema staff to search it but not to touch any device if they find one. A male member of staff spots what looks like a bomb gaffertaped to one of the chairs. As they move slowly and carefully to alert Gina, the device explodes, sending everyone hitting the ground, injuring Mickey's shoulder initially and the male staff member and rendering Honey unconcious. As if she's not hurt enough, Gabriel has to perform CPR on her.
Gina updates the station and she and Smithy notify the relevant groups and divert more back up. FINALLY they start to evacuate the full building. Gina spots a woman smoking outsides and asks her to blow her smoke in her direction 😂 before she speaks to the press about the bombing and asks people to call in if they have any info.
"Puff it this way, darlin'!"
Gary, hopelessly in love with Honey, is worried about her and is angry that he's not getting more information about her and that Gina has asked Ruby not to update unless there's new information. Loose lips and all that - he ends up telling Gabriel about what he did for Gina after the little car accident a few episodes back, arming Gabriel with blackmail material right as he needs it, before he gets dispatched to an assault case.
The assault case leads him to St Hughes and Ruby where he can manipulate and intimidate her even more as she waits for Honey to come round. As they do, it becomes clear that the male member of staff is actually the bomber... and as they find him, he's sat at the side of Honey's bed with another bomb inside his bag. All because noone realises 'what he's worth' because he has 'more to offer than being an usher'. He wanted the police calling to the cinema so he could learn from them first hand because he's adamant he can be a police officer - but he was rejected.
After he and Ruby talk the bomber down and arrest him, Gina is very impressed and asks Ruby to reconsider her resignation, ripping the letter up without even reading it. (The second of Gabriel's infamously millions chances after Ruby reluctantly covered for him after he set one of her school friends up) . Gabriel sees this through the window and thinks he's gotten away scott free - however Ruby can't live with herself and she confesses to Gina that she lied on the stand. She knows she's committed perjury and that it means the end for her career... but she can't cover up any longer. After seeing Ruby out, Gina is desperate for a smoke and luckily finds one of her old cigarillo ends in an ashtray in her office, sneakily lighting it. After she's finished she goes to find Gabriel, seeing through all his bluster and telling him she knows exactly what he did.
Although it's not spoken, unfortunately for Gina, he knows exactly what Smithy got Gary to do without Gina's knowledge. She already told Gary she was keeping quiet for his and Smithy's sakes which gives Gabriel the perfect leverage to stop her making Ruby's confession public and reporting him... She does become aware that Gabriel knows next episode however. He applys for a driving course at Hendon and tells her he has a clean license including no drink driving convictions and she puts two and two together and nails Gary.
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Heart of Darkness
Heart of Darkness? Like on the PS1? I love that game but if the difficulty scaling is anything like in the game, then Jon is screwed.
Oh? Whatcha doin there bud?
Can th- "Was that a joke?" Why was that so funny to me?
Oh shit?! Did she just spit on him? Gross.
Uh? She? Gertrude? How do they not know that Gertrude is dead?
Wait, did Gertrude really deal with this already? Then WHY THE FUCK DID ELIAS SEND THEM HERE?!!!??!?!!? This MUST be part of some plan that Elias has. It's the only explanation!
You sure are saying a lot of stuff there, lady.
She's gonna be so upset when she realizes that Gertrude is dead...
Why would you WANT THIS?! This sounds like it would just suck!
I'm baffled how Gertrude could have done this. Surely she didn't have that many assistance. Maybe the other fears worked with them to stop the Dark?
This story better explain what happened with this ritual!
Would be funny if she rigged the place with explosives. Just for this occasion...
Please tell they- JON! Jon do not look at the death orb, Please!
You FOOL! JON! WHY?!
Beautiful? What did you do? Did they not cuff her?!
Jon, you good there hon? Uh?
Helen! I have also missed you! ... You sound kind of different or is that my imagination? Oh, she's offering a door, apparently...
Jon, you've almost died so many times. I can not stress enough that I need you to please stop doing that.
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They ended up south of the hospital mainly because Dean had to pick a direction when they pulled out of the lot and, considering the day he’d had, a coinflip was as good a way to make a decision as anything. A motel even if it’s two in the afternoon, and two beds because it’s always two beds, and he drops his bags on the one closer to the door and wants to flop face-first straight into the ugly brown comforter but he feels like if he falls he’ll never get up again. His shoulders and low back and the arches of his feet all hurt. He hardly even had to fight, today. Go figure.
Sam’s flicking the light in the tiny closet, checking the mini-fridge, casing the bathroom. “Huh,” he says, for no reason Dean can tell. Drops his bag on the luggage rack and shrugs out of his jacket. Absently pops his neck. Says, then, “I could eat, you want—I don’t know, delivery something,” like he didn’t almost check out on Dean, like he didn’t disappear in the middle of the night like every one of Dean’s worst nightmares, like in the middle of driving about ninety through too-crowded city streets Dean didn’t get a call on his cell from an unknown number and about have a heart attack when the woman on the other end said Mr. Smith, you’re listed as the emergency contact for Mr. Sam Smith. I’m afraid— Like the world didn’t just crackle out to static right then.
He’s standing there, though. On two legs and with his back up. Going for the yellow pages under the room phone, flipping to the back. “Number One China Palace,” he mutters, and glances across at Dean, and is alive. Alive and walking around and his brain where it’s meant to be. He frowns, the phonebook dangling against his thigh. “You okay?” he says, and Dean says, “Yeah,” and then he says, “God,” and then he sits down hard enough on the bed that he almost bounces, and he plants his hands on his knees and has to breathe, in through his nose and out through his mouth. Acid roiling up his throat. He wants a drink so bad he could kill something.
“Dean?” Around the bed, crouching. Alive and compos mentis and hovering a hand over Dean’s leg, like he’s worried Dean’s hurt somewhere he can’t see. Except, no, that was Sam—that was Sam all this last goddamn year, or longer, all this time Sam’s head was crumbling or boarded up but still crumbling behind or trapped in hell with a shark-smiling sociopath wearing his face or even before, when he thought he had to die to prove something to the world, or when he had to rot himself to prove something to Dean, or when—Dean takes another deep breath and blows it out extra slow, his heart doing something weird in his chest, and Sam stops with the hover-hand crap and grabs his thigh, frowns up at him, says, “What—hey, hey.”
“I’m not having a panic attack,” Dean says.
“Looks like it,” Sam says, but sits back on one heel, and the death-grip on Dean’s thigh turns more into Sam just—keeping a hand on him. Heavily warm. “You good?”
Dean fishes in the inner pocket of his jacket and finds the flask, takes a pull. Sam’s eyes tighten but he doesn’t make a comment. The whiskey’s crap and it burns all the way down but he feels like he breathes better after. Sam watches his face, his hand sliding a little up the side of Dean’s leg. Like he hasn’t—god, since before Cas pulled that shit-ass trick with Sam’s wall. Dean wants to pull Sam up by the wrist and fall backwards on the bed and sleep for a goddamn year, Sam laying heavily over him like the worst sweaty-nasty suffocation torture Dean ever accused him of being, when they’d share beds sometimes, and Sam would roll his eyes and pull Dean in by the small of the back and Dean slept better than maybe he ever had. Why did they ever stop that. What would it take, to go back.
“And it’s really all just—gone,” Dean says, picking up the staggered confused stupid back-and-forth they’d had back in that awful hospital room, while Cas moaned shaking on the bed and Meg held him grimly down. “Just like that.”
Sam’s cheek sucks in on one side. “Not just like…” he starts, and then looks at Dean’s face, and his chin drops. “But—yeah. I’m okay. Not even that tired, for some reason. It’s just you and me in here, I swear.”
It always was but the way Sam says it makes Dean’s shoulders ripple, like someone’s standing directly behind him, watching. He shudders totally without meaning to and Sam’s head picks up and he shifts forward, kneeling, his hands going to Dean’s knees, gripping firm. “Don’t get hit by a car again,” Dean says, and Sam huffs and says, “I’ll do my best,” and Dean reaches forward and grips Sam’s shirt and feels Sam’s skin warm under it and says, “I mean it,” and Sam looks him in the eyes and doesn’t say that Dean’s being a dumbass and doesn’t even seem like he’s thinking it, really, and he says, “Yeah, Dean,” and, “Okay?” and Dean doesn’t know the answer to that. It has to be yes because Sam’s alive and here and that makes it a ranked good day, by Dean’s usual metric, but the time when he wasn’t isn’t far enough in the rearview for Dean’s taste. That white hospital room and the white bed and Sam sitting there like he didn’t care so much about the difference between alive and not. When the difference there, for Sam, was the only thing in Dean’s life that had ever mattered. When it was pretty much the only thing he was hanging his hat on, these days, and if it came to it, if any time between now and the shitty future Dean could see, the answer flipped from one to the other, Dean didn’t know if he’d be able to make it in the world that was left, after. He just didn’t see how that could be so.
Sam watches him, quietly. Tightens his grip on Dean’s legs and then stands up. “I’m ordering Chinese,” he says, steady. “Gonna take a shower. Find something to watch, huh?”
Dean blinks, wipes his hand over his face. “Yeah,” he says.
“We should’ve gotten a king bed,” Sam says. He half-smiles, when Dean looks up at him. “So you won’t bitch about kicking.”
“Wouldn’t have to if you weren’t Chuck Norrising in your sleep,” Dean says, and Sam really smiles, then. Goes for the phonebook, and the Chinese. Ordering extra broccoli, the bitch. Dean grips the edge of the mattress, and manages to stand up after all, to deal with his bag, to find the remote. Sun coming in through the gaps in the curtains. Sam, smiling at something Dean can’t hear. The rearview feeling, for a minute, a little less crowded.
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