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I previously did not expect to pay for pictures at NYCC as a means for budget cuts. However, I knew there was no way Travis would believe DiMaggio turned out to be there if I didn’t have pictures as proof so I spent the extra $10 for a selfie. The Red Ranger would not be so lucky. I had purchased a Megazord Funko Pop to have the Red, Blue and Black Rangers sign it. Since the Blue and Black Rangers were scheduled at 5:30pm as part of the normal autographing area, it was pure luck and chance that I would find the Red Ranger on the shopping level. He was not there as a scheduled celebrity so much as he was there to host a booth for his own website, which put him in the middle of the shopping floor. I got in line, paid $50 each for both Travis and me to have our Megazords signed, and eventually made my way up to the front of the line.

“Any Funko Pops that are being autographed must be personalized,” said Red Ranger’s assistant. Ummmmmm WHAT?! I didn’t respect that the Red Ranger wouldn’t even tell me himself that he was a stingy prick who didn’t want fans making money off of his autograph. Why a celebrity would intentionally ruin the value of signed Funko Pops by DEMANDING that they be personalized is beyond me. Like, I’m sorry you have no career! Little did this jerk know that I am a writer and would be happy to relay the message of his douche-baggery to the world. I also would be happy to pry deeper than I should. Go big or go home, right? I asked him why only the Power Ranger boys were at the convention and if the Pink Ranger would ever come around. “She likes to be the only Ranger at a convention if she decides to appear and Comic Con is too crowded for her,” said the Red Ranger, rolling his eyes in disgust. Ok, we have a talker here...

“Well I hope you ‘hit that’ when you had the chance and put that bitch in her place,” I replied while nudging my elbow. I was hoping he would want to bro-out with me and that’s exactly what this greedy sucker did. Red Ranger must not have known I was gay or he would know Pink Ranger is my favorite, and that a pretentious Pink brat is still more appealing to me than a trickster Red hasbeen. He went on to tell me how she tried to bang him but he turned her down, how she thinks she’s better than the rest of them, and how it’s odd that the biggest fame-whore of the bunch is the one that makes her presence the least seen. To me, this meant she blew him and he has a little penis. Anyone who messes with fans like that obviously has a chode.

“Thanks for helping raise me as a kid,” I joked as we walked away without a picture. There was no way I was paying the least attractive Power Ranger another $20 for a selfie after he tried to ruin my Funko. Red Ranger had clearly put on the most weight, lost the most hair and was the most bitter. I smiled knowing I’d be able to easily remove the “To George” from his autograph because he used a paint pen, which scratches off with little effort. It was right here in this judgemental moment that I remembered I was at Comic Con and magic was in the air. I had already stumbled onto two great autographing encounters, one of which was completely unexpected. I felt a tiny little smooch from the convention gods and knew I was meant to continue my journey. Jackie and I then found a Winnie the Pooh Pop and went downstairs.

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