A-ha! I knew if I mentioned posting this entry the next night, it wouldn't happen. Sorry 'bout that, lads, I instead used that time to write up a detailed list of site improvement suggestions. So I was still being productive! Who are you to say that I wasn't? HM? Yeah, that's what I thought. Punk. Go back to your Naruto.

After you read this, I mean.

So, it's time to see who's ready to turn in their food. Nobody can remember who was first, so CK volunteers us. I cringe. First is not the way to go. Especially with those golden 4's on the line. Everybody's going to hold onto those, no matter how good we are. And they'll only remember everything they taste after as better. This is how physics works.

Granted, I found out later that only one 4 was given out (and no 0's), but still. It wasn't given out to us. That's the important part to remember.

So we had switched up our entrée and appetizer. We decided ahead of time that the breakfast item would work much better if it was served first, with the noodle muck following that, and the dessert+drink bringing up the rear. CK takes the newly appointed appetizer to the front and sets it down in front of the judges. They handed him a mic to tell them and the audience what it was and what it was made of. He ran down the ingredients, and ended his speech with, "I like to call it... breakfast." Saying that last part like sort of a verbal shrug, implying that the name was obvious.

One of the judges made a joke about giving him a 1 for, um. Whatever category the name fell under. And it became clear pretty quick that the name WAS important. It was either originality, or presentation. I think. So the judges begin to sample it, first asking for utensils, but then deciding that it's finger food and picking it up. They certainly seemed to enjoy it. Well, Mr. Kikuta didn't seem so pleased, if memory serves me right. But the others thought it came out well. Something to be proud of. Either Brandon or Brendon asked again what the name was, and I immediately turned to CK and said, "Don't say 'Breakfast.'"

In actuality, we had come up with a name for it earlier while we were still preparing everything. But for the life of us, we just couldn't remember what the hell that name was. So he told them "One-Shot Breakfast."

They brought a friend up to try the remaining piece, but the bacon had come off with the other half of it because it hadn't quite been cut the whole way through. JSJ sort of sounded like he wasn't too pleased with this and I ran to the rescue with another full slice of bacon that had just been cooked to put in the Scoops and didn't get used.

S'right. Savin' the day. It's what I do.

So when it seems like they're finished up with that, I take up our entrée. I had put the serving bowl over top of the serving platter to make it look like a covered dish. Like a silver platter, without the silver. I placed it right in front of Jon St. John and unveiled it to him. He asked me what it was called, and completely off the top of my head, I told him, "A Hot Mess," based on how it looked. They handed me the mic and I told the room what was in it, and then showed off the way it was shaped like Pac-Man (which JSJ told me I would be getting presentation points for).

They seemed to enjoy it. Again, not so sure about Kikuta. But they said they liked the way it had salty, cheesy, and then sweet and cinnamonny altogether, there. I was proud. I was more than proud. I was beaming (on the inside; I've gotta keep my humble poker face, you know).

Then N1NJ4 and CK begin gathering the drinks from the cooler. We pass a cup out to each judge, and the crowd starts talking and asking questions as CK names off all the ingredients. Things like, what flavor Pop-Tart is it? Then CK adds that it has vodka in it, too, because he forgot that part (and let's be fair, I usually have to stop and take a moment to make sure I remembered everything when I say what's in it). I grab the mic and tell the audience that, obviously, that's the most important part.

So everyone drinks a bit of that. Nobody finishes their drink. Well, except CK, who drank the entire test cup of the final mix so I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THAT DRINK TASTES LIKE :O

I should continue with the original thought, there. Nobody finishes their drink, but this is not meant in a bad way. Everyone definitely liked it. Even Hiroki Kikuta seemed to smile and nod while wearing his milkless milk moustache. Of course, they said it tasted like what it was: a drinkable Pop-Tart. But they offered the rest to anyone in the room who wanted to try it. Half the room got up and made that pilgrimage to the front for a taste of our sweet concoction.

Then, once the sedatives kicked in, we nicked their wallets and took off running for Hell or high water.

By which I mean, Team Dicks went up next. I don't really know what all they had. I was taking a breather on a stack of chairs and trying to reestablish dominance over my mind. I remember that Mr. MAGFest didn't like that they had a dish that was entirely vegetables, but then another judge actually preferred that dish.

Oh, actually, I believe they also started with a dish that was part macaroni and cheese. And everyone seemed to enjoy that because it reminded them all of their college days - which was the feel it was meant to evoke, so they definitely did it right.

Then Team Lightning Bear got their turn. And as soon as I saw their first dish - while I had no idea what it was - I knew we had lost. I said it aloud. They had taken so much care with everything. Made it look fabulous. It had to taste amazing. Nothing can look that good, be edible, and taste bad. It doesn't happen.

And, unfortunately, I was right. According to everybody who got to try it, it was absolutely delicious. The judges convened and made their final tallies, and announced that the clear winner was Team Lightning Bear.

I grabbed my dad's knife and committed seppuku. I dropped to my knees and then fell over. My number one favorite choice of fake death falls ever since I first saw it in Goldeneye 007. Part of the audience laughed. This cheered me up. CK challenged the Lightning Bear girl to a rematch.

Mr. MAGFest told everyone that us two losing teams were really close, but he gave us more points because of his aversion to vegetables. But then the other guy said he gave them more points for that. So while it sounds like we got 2nd place, that was never really verified.

To satisfy my ego, though, we totally got 2nd place.

The prizes (for 1st place) are announced, everyone's thanked for stopping by, they say they'll have to do this again next year, and also mention something about pitting the three winning teams (this was the third Gamer Iron Chef) against each other. Of course, that doesn't help us any. Though, my pride shot up again when the panel ended and Mr. MAGFest turned to the other judges and asked if he could get some Hot Mess, and the rest of the judges had a good laugh about the weird entendre therein.

Also, Matt Mercer stopped by at some point. I only mention this because I spotted him right away. Because, oh my god, that man and his gorgeous face. If looks could kill, his looks would heal the planet and then carry us away on a technicolor cloud made of dreams and uncomfortable latent homosexual urges.

And then the panel's over. We gather our things together and CK tells me that Lotus Prince is in the audience, and points him out. I head straight over and put out my hand and introduce myself as Amedeus. Then we all get together and hound Jon St. John. I get my first signature of the convention, tricking my badge out a bit more in the process. We all (CK, Lotus Prince, Jon St. John, myself, N1NJ4, and Todd) get together and take some group shots. In mine, we're all indicating our BALLS OF STEEL! for the viewers. We also set it up with JSJ that we'll meet up with him tomorrow to do an interview at around 2PM, I believe. So everything's in order.

Hung out for a bit, and Brendon Becker (Mr. MAGFest - stay prepared for when I change those up on you!) checks my receipt and does some intense calculations and tells me to check upstairs in like an hour to get my compensation money for the groceries we bought.

We wind up hanging out in the back of the room talking to this cool British guy and dude CK kept calling "TechnoJesus". We chat for awhile. Ghostbusters and such. You know how we nerds do. I point out a girl dressed as Malon walking past the door, and the British guy tells me to make sure to call her that to her face next time I see her, because she was pretty annoyed last year when people kept calling her "Zelda".

We're standing back there for so long, that eventually I've got to usher us out of the room as it looks like the next panel is just about to start. Man. When the hell did it get so dark? When the competition started, it was broad daylight. Now it's pitch black outside.

We were likely to be eaten by a grue.