Stranger Than Fanfiction
Chris Colfer
To Ashley,
for being the best friend a guy could ask for. Since your memory is much better than mine, you’ll have to remind me which parts of this book actually happened.
Chapter One
CONVENTION INTERVENTION
It wasn’t WizCon unless someone was trampled. At least that was how the employees of the Santa Clara Convention Center saw it. The success of the annual event was never measured by the number of attendees (sold-out crowds were always a given) but by the number of injuries the enthusiastic crowd inflicted on one another.
Thankfully, the WizCon incidents were never malicious; the patrons simply buzzed with so much excitement they became a danger to themselves and others around them. So, the more reported accidents, the more the event planners were confident they had done their job.
And as the early comers outside pressed their bodies against the glass doors, rabid with anticipation, the convention staff knew WizCon 2017 was about to break new records.
“It’s twelve-oh-one!” said a little boy dressed as a gray alien. “You were supposed to open at noon!”
“Come on, we’ve been waiting for hours!” said an old woman dressed as a headless Marie-Antoinette.
“Some of us have been here since yesterday!” said a very sleepy teenage girl from a group wearing dinosaur onesies.
The convention center was surrounded with a massive gathering of historical figures, extinct species, and extraterrestrial creatures. It was an alarming sight to every passing observer, but it was much more innocent than the psychedelic cult it appeared to be.
All these people were at WizCon because they were fans of the hit television series Wiz Kids. The show was an action/adventure series that followed a trio of young geniuses who travel through space and time in an invention they constructed out of a port-a-potty.
Naturally, when it first premiered the critics treated the show like a pi?ata. Each review of the “ridiculous premise” was more scathing than the last. Reviewers took great pleasure in ripping it to shreds and even became competitive with their convictions, each claiming to have “hated it the most.” However, with each fatal blow Wiz Kids only received more and more attention. People tuned in to see the “absurdity” for themselves, but they were not repulsed as promised. Audiences found the show’s campiness to be rather charming, its unique underdog spirit resonated with them, and a global phenomenon was born.
No, it wasn’t Shakespeare, but on the bright side, it wasn’t Shakespeare.
Seemingly overnight, the cast of young teens became household names. Their likenesses were plastered across T-shirts, lunch boxes, bedsheets, and various hygiene products, and their personal lives became the subjects of tabloid debates.
Nine seasons later, the Wiz Kids viewership was larger and more passionate than ever before. The self-proclaimed “Wizzers” dominated the Internet with more hashtags, trending topics, discussion forums, and fanfiction than any other show on air. And like a religious pilgrimage, every fourth weekend in June, Wizzers from around the world traveled to Santa Clara, California, for the sacred Wiz Kids convention to celebrate the show together.
“It’s five past twelve!” said the mother of triplets dressed as Roman Soldiers. “Open the doors already!”
“Let us in! It’s hot out here!” said a man dressed from head to toe as a Martian Slug.
“My mustache is melting off my face!” shouted a little girl dressed as Edgar Allan Poe (or so people hoped).
Finally, at ten past twelve, the doors opened and a stampede of alien creatures, deceased world influencers, and large reptiles stormed inside the convention center—WizCon 2017 had begun! Security guards cautiously ushered the excited crowd like they were herding a flock of explosive sheep. Medics stood by with their gurneys ready. The other convention center employees made bets on which guests were most likely to “snap.”
The first Wizzers through the door made a mad dash to the convention center theater, where the “Wiz Kids Cast & Creative Panel” was happening later that afternoon. Only the first six hundred people would have seats; the other poor saps would have to watch from a telecast in the Exhibit Hall.
Desperate to see their favorite actors in the flesh, the teenagers in the crowd charged through the halls, knocking over booths of overpriced merchandise and unsuspecting senior citizens in their path. They squeezed through the narrow doors of the theater and threw themselves into the first available seats they could find. Within minutes, all the seats were filled with giddy young people. Pitying looks were cast upon the unfortunate souls without seats, as if they were third-class passengers on the Titanic.
Not a single Wizzer could sit still as they waited for the panel to start. The entire theater jerked and twitched like everyone had to pee so badly it hurt. The anticipation was suffocating and some had to breathe into paper bags to keep from passing out—but who could blame them? This was it! The panel they had been waiting for all year was just a few agonizing minutes away!
Their eyes darted back and forth across the stage, as they wondered which wing their heroes would enter from. A table was set on the stage with four chairs, four microphones, and four nameplates. The crowd squealed like hyenas as they read the names of the cast and creator of Wiz Kids, especially the nameplate of Cash Carter, the lead actor of the show.