Holy crap, it's Neil Gaiman! part 2

As was mentioned before, a situation such as this is perhaps why it was better that we did not encounter the noble author. Having no real prior template to pull from, I have little doubt in my abilities to say extremely stupid things to very powerful people. Neil Gaiman, being an epic-level Author / Rockstar, could very easily summon hordes of ravening security guards (1/day), cast chain lightning (3/day), or call swarms of swooning emo-girls (1/second). That’s no match for my 4th level Jackass abilities.

After having it confirmed that he was, supposedly, actually at the convention in person and not merely a name and warm breeze through the halls it seems only right to speculate what could have happened. I would not be surprised if a pair “NG” emblazoned boxer-shorts would fetch me quite a few pretty pennies on the internet underpant black market. The only real problem would be the post-pardom depression that would surely follow. Sentiments like these lead me to believe that there must be some secret to his complete and utter super-stardom in the science-fiction author / comic book realms.

Was he placed into his planet’s last remaining shuttle and rocketed out of the atmosphere of the soon-dead planet? Or mayhap he, in one of his frequent alcohol-induced stupors during college, stumbled from England into Nevada where he found himself exposed to the harmless yet mutational properties of Gamma Rays produced by some sort of “Gamma-Ray Mutation Bomb”. From then on, when exposed to sunlight, he would mutate into a giant green creature called “Mr. Gaiman” who was prone to uncontrollable fits of creative writing. His origin story is widely speculated upon.

Whatever the causes of it, he certainly landed like a comet at Balticon some two weeks back, generating lines of star-struck fans so long that you would imagine Abraham Lincoln had actually risen from the dead to give one last speech. I can certainly justify waiting for days to see Zombie-Lincoln, and it has become much the same for Neil. (we’re on a first name basis) The only product of “feeling” his presence was that I found myself uncontrollably pulling out my wallet at the book vendor’s and placing it upon there tables, demanding to purchase Neil Gaiman himself. This drew many confused looks, and I soon left there with no more NG then I had when I arrived, and a pair of imaginary boxers with his name on them.