I slinked into the Libra Room, barely noticing Buskers' announcement. If I had a tail, it would be tucked between my legs. I could feel the prickly heat of a collective stare boring into my skin. I hate to be the last one in - especially on an occasion such as this.

The lawman caught my eye first - how could I miss him, with such a dashing, handsome pilot in his custody? I was puzzled too - Olie never struck me as a rogue - what went on here?

I approached the sheriff with confidence, offering a friendly handshake. Clearly, ferris was a man from a land where the sun shined bright, the people went about their business in a friendly way, and justice was swift and fair.

As ferris returned my greeting, I made my case. "Look, sheriff, there must be some mistake here. As far as I know - and you might check with Mr. Sylvester just to be sure - he wanted as many OT.com posters here as possible. I don't think the good Captain's here with any malice in his heart."

ferris appeared to consider my proposal without saying a word. Ric's anxiety was obvious.

I made my way toward the beverages. FanFiltration - I could kick myself, I didn't remember his name when I walked in - is clearly not happy with me. I felt guilty, but I knew that in such a large gathering I was going to forget somebody by name. Maybe even several somebodies. I need to hide in plain sight, so I poured the first beverage I saw (Hmmm, Armenian konyak - endorsed by Arshak Petrosian! How bad can that be?) and settled into a burgundy Queen Anne. (That's not as dirty as it sounds) Idly did I sip at my drink until the vile swill sent my gag reflex into maximum. Well, it happened so fast I couldn't really call it "idle sipping", actually. It was more like, "the moment the foul toxin met my taste buds, I let loose an embarrasing torrent of spittle and alcohol, hitting about a dozen people with it". Including, naturally...FanFiltration.

To be sure, this wasn't going so well yet.