But before we even get that far, I should say that I know a few of you haven't been to a convention before, so I'd like to tell you how this whole thing works. In terms of our "road" metaphor (which I believe is working quite well so far, don't you?), this would be the "making sure we have fuel in the car before we set off" phase. Or maybe it would be the "does anyone need to use the bathroom?" stage. Either way, this is the bit that makes sure everyone knows what they're letting themselves in for. First, for every convention there's a committee. They're the folks who have gone to a lot of trouble to get everything organised, so effectively they're in charge. Yes, I know you're the ones who are paying the money, and I do appreciate it, I really do. I appreciate it so much that I haven't even been tempted to run off with the money and blow it all on comics, which should tell you something. Anyway, the committee are in charge. What they say goes. I realise that this sounds like one of the rules, and that this paragraph is supposed to be an "aside" bit, but the reason I'm telling you this is that the committee are entitled to make up new rules as they go along, often on a whim, so beware.

Now, getting back to our metaphor; we're in the car, we know where we're going, we've got our map, our mobile phone for emergencies, change for the toll booth, a bag of Murray Mints, two bananas, a bottle of water in case we get thirsty, and... We're off!

And... we're stopped, because just as we were about to start up the car, we could hear the phone ringing in the house. I was going to ignore it, but not you. Oh no, "It might be important!" you said. "What if there's an emergency or something?" So here I sit, seething with anger, while you run back into the house just as the phone stops ringing, and now here you come, desperately trying to make up a lie that will also include those mysterious phone calls that happen late at night when you think I'm asleep, as well as the ones where the caller mutters, "sorry, wrong number" every time I answer. Well, you thought I didn't suspect, didn't you? You were wrong! I bought one of those Caller ID thingies, and as soon as I can figure out how it works, you're in big trouble!

Don't give me that "I have no idea what you're talking about" look! How stupid do you think I am? What? Well, yes, that's true, but I didn't know that at the time, did I? I was sure he was a real chimp. How was I to know?

Okay, okay, you're right. Let's just get going, otherwise we'll hit the traffic at the roundabout and we'll be stuck there for the rest of our lives. Right. Put on your seat belt, let's put the car in gear and leave our troubles behind us!

Hold on, is that the phone? I suppose I'd better get it. Yes, I know, but it might be my mother.