MMM - October 12th 2009

Good morning, all. Beacon Girl again.

As the Legion Communication Hero one of my duties is to attend seminars, conferences and conventions. So, I thought I would provide a report of a recent convention I attended on Lagos 7. It was the Animal Traited Heroes Yearly Congress.

I had never been to ATHYC before, so it was a new experience. There were discussion groups, seminars and rah rah speeches galore. But I found the socializing at the Watering Trough Bar and Café to be the most interesting.

When I first went inside I felt unsure of myself. Everyone there was already paired up or in groups, and I didn’t wish to intrude. So I found myself taking a stool at the bar. The bartender was a nice young guy named Gilroy Serge. He seemed to know most everyone who came by, and they him. What most impressed me, though, was his knowledge of specialty drinks. He had no trouble when I asked for a Lemony Punch Citrus Ale Rum Drink. (I love those.)

I was just starting my drink when Sharkbait took the place beside me. Gilroy greeted him like a regular.

GS: Hello, Sharkbait. The usual?
SB: Yeah. You make the best Shark Bite cocktails in the universe.
[He noticed me.]
SB: Hello. You’re a little drink of water. You old enough to be in here?
ME: I’m probably older than you.
SB: Sorry. Didn’t mean to be rude. My name is Sharkbait, but a lot of people just call me, Chum.
ME: Beacon Girl.
SB: So, what’s your talent?
ME: Excuse me?
SB: Your super power. Mine is strength. I can also swim real fast.
ME: I don’t like to talk about it.
SB: Hmm. I think I understand. Kind of like Possum.
ME: Possum?
SB: Over there, in the booth by himself. Possum’s just what I call him. His real name is Dead Meat.
ME: He looks dead.
SB: That’s because his power is the ability to assume a death appearance. He even rots. But it doesn’t matter because he has the power to regenerate. He usually get the real disgusting assignments.
ME: I suppose.
SB: Over there is Wise Owl. He’s really smart. And dull. He knows about a zillion different languages, and if you ever get him to talking he won’t shut up. But for all his intelligence he never seems to have anything interesting to say.
ME: Poor man.
SB: Yeah. Everyone calls him the Old Coot.
ME: Doesn’t anyone around here have a nice nickname?
SB: I don’t know. Probably not. What’s your’s?
ME: I don’t have one. I’m just Beacon Girl.
SB: Well, you’ve got to have a nickname. Let me see. How’s about we call you, Lighthouse?
ME: That’s a drink, isn’t it?
SB: It is. A flaming rum drink. What do you think?
ME: Not bad. I’ve been known to ‘flame’ on occasion.

And so I have a nickname. I am Lighthouse. Hot and flaming. I think I need to attend more conferences and conventions.