Tozzer - the kid, the comic, the movies, the mayhem.

London, October 29-30 2005. This was our first time at the London MCM show, and we weren’t expecting much. I mean, who’s going to travel all that way, to East London no less, just to wander around a big hall full of geeky paraphernalia? Loadsa people, as it turned out.

I'm a master salesman. I take enthusiasm to a whole new level.

We had a great weekend and sold enough books to kill a small cow. What I mean by that is if you took all the books we sold, and dropped them from, say, ten feet onto a small cow's head, the blow would prove fatal. Or, at the very least, the animal would get such a nasty shock that its milk-producing capacity would be severely diminished.

Pete's impression of Frankenstein's monster is really coming on

The event was generally well-run, ie nobody stopped us from fly-posting our Tozzer posters all over the hall. And when a legion of Roman soldiers tried to invade the premises, they were quickly disarmed by the vigilant security guards.

All weapons had to be checked in on entry

It was a young crowd, and they seemed to like comics. Our table was next to the Anime Village. Yes, there really was a small community of cartoon characters with unfeasibly big eyes residing in the hall. Apparently, they live there all year round, and have become something of a local tourist attraction, with their quaint anime post office and their anime bowling green. The anime village shop sells sushi, noodles , and the latest train simulation games from Japan.

The residents of the anime village mostly keep to themselves

Some of the manga dudes, like Tokyopop, realised that with the Tozzer posse in da house, they couldn’t hope to compete. So they covered up their stock and buggered off down the pub for the weekend.

Tokyopop did a roaring trade in beige bed sheets

The table next to us was selling an ingenious make-up concept called “poo and a brush”. I know – why didn’t anyone think of this before? It’s so simple, it’s positively brilliant. This stuff smells of authentic, freshly-squeezed dog poo, and the idea is you smear it on your face, then you're instantly irresistible to wasps and blue bottles. Ingenious!

Win a "poo makeover", courtesy of our friends at Poo-and-a-brush.com

There was a foxy chick called Carmen modelling the poo, and while she looked rather lovely, I didn’t dare get close enough to have a sniff. The guy who actually ran the poo table was called Max. Top bloke, a real expert on the subtleties of faecal odours. But he wasn’t quite as pretty as Carmen, so I forgot to take his picture.

"Smell my poo"

A lot of people think that convention-goers are a bunch of socially inept freaks who wear ridiculous costumes and play childish games to make up for the chronic deficiencies in their sad, miserable lives. I'd like to dispel that myth right now.

Wood-effect hat stand, £19.99 at Argos

Auditioning for the next George Romero flick

The Al-Qaida booth

In fact, everyone we talked to was perfectly normal. Aside from the girl who came along and ate half our stock. That was just rude.

"Hmm, Tozzer, tastes like beef stew and dumplings"

The highlight of the show was surely the “Who the Fuck are You?” competition. Z-list stars sat down at tables and passers-by had to guess their identity. This was a real toughie, and to be honest, I don’t think there were any winners.

"Wait... who the fuck am I again?"

Some of the photos were clearly digitally enhanced

Thanks to the organisers, who were very cool, and thanks to everyone who came by and said hello, or bought our stuff, or both. Respec’ to the Brodie’s Law posse. Oh, and about that whole poo-and-a-brush thing. I'm sorry. I lied, and Max is gonna kill me till I'm dead. The make-up smells of chocolate really and it's quality stuff, so if you're a make-up wearer, go check out the site.

So, anyway, will we go again? Hell yeah! The next show’s in May 2006 and we’ve already booked a table.

Adios!

Rob

"Ow, my fuckin' foot!"

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