You are in your room when a shout of glee echo through the house. You hear your dad bounding up the stairs, and his bearded face pokes around your door. "Tickets are booked, Robbie! We're off to Comic-Con, can you believe it?"
This is news to you, and received with a mixture of excitement and dread. Your dad, 44-year old Michael Anderson, is a massive nerd. He spends the better half of his paycheque on video games, comics, figurines, nerdy film props, and trips to science fiction and fantasy conventions, which he always likes to take you along to. All well and good, you love nothing better than oggling the booth babes like any other boy your age. Only problem is that he always insists on dressing up for the occasion, and usually treats you as little more of an accessory to his cosplaying. One of your earliest memories is of wandering round a convention floor, scared and confused, wondering why your daddy was dressed up in a massive diving suit with a drill on his arm, and why you were wearing a wig, a dress, and being made to carry a huge, painted, cardboard syringe. It was only years later that you discovered your dad was including you in some fun, family Bioshock cosplay, and the bizarre experience had traumatised your young brain for some time.
You've been many things over the years. Usually sidekicks. Whenever your dad blows a month's salary on a full-body rubber batsuit, you're the one in tights dressed up as Boy Wonder, Robin. When your dad is Ash Ketchum, you're the one in the Pikachu onesie.
Just last year, he'd roped you into Dragon-Con, himself as Joel from the Last of Us, yourself as Ellie. Naturally you'd objected but unfortunately, as the one paying your allowance, your dad had you by the balls. Unfortunately pictures of the trip from your dad's facebook had started to circulate around your school not long after, and you'd been a laughing stock. Embarrassed at being made to dress up like a girl, you'd started weight-lifting in secret, put on a bit of muscle, and a growth spurt had made you as tall as your dad. You think you're safe.
"This is the big one, Robbie," he crows, a shining, farawar look in his eyes. "We're going to have to make a special effort this year. I'm going all out. And there's $300,000 for first place in the cosplay competition! Imagine that! That should keep your mother off my back for a while, eh?"
With a rather crazed look, he disappears from your doorway, rambling about all the preparations he has to make. You swear you here him murmur...
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