Fandango My Nango: The Saddest Costumed Man at Comic-Con was Back for More
Last year at Comic-Con, I encountered Fandango, the silent movie tickets mascot whose suffering of constant abuse from fratty San Diego types gave us the immortal saying, "Fandango my nango!" This year, Fandango brought reinforcements, and our time together ended with one of us a shriveled corpse.
I first encountered my old nemesis/innamorato on Friday morning outside the San Diego convention center. True to form, he was standing by himself, saying not a word, fixing his weirdly insistent googly eyes on little children or blank white walls.
"Fandango!" exclaimed a young woman. "Can you say something?" He did not.
I edged closer. "Fandango my nango?" I asked. Fandango turned to me. Was there a flicker of recognition? His paper bag face was inscrutable.
Then he slightly turned his head, giving me a cue. I looked down the road. There was another.
This one was...I dunno. A duck? A superhero? It was hard to say. I walked over and found that unlike the original Fandango, this one had a handler.
"What's his name?" I asked, nodding at the duck.
"Surfer Dude!" the handler said brightly.
"What about that one?" I pointed back at Fandango, who gave us an ominous stare from 50 feet away. "Does he have a name, too?"
The handler squinted into the distance. "I couldn't tell you. Libre? Maybe it's Libre or something."
That wouldn't do. But there was no time to pursue this inquiry, as there was still yet another.
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it looks like a barf bag in drag. thankfully, i didn't say that to the fandango reps at the tron party.
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Kyle, I think you've got the next great romantic comedy on your hands! I'm seeing either Jonah Hill ("Will love conquer all when the paper bag is doffed?") or Jon Hamm ("He wasn't just a paper bag... he was a MAN!"). I don't know, just blueskying here.
Anyway, this is gold, son! Knock out the script and we'll start shopping around. We'll be seeing "He nangoed into his heart! Coming Spring 2011!" at a movie theater near you in no time!
Turns out when you are trying to not get busted for clearly not doing work at work, reading this:
"I edged closer. “Fandango my nango?” I asked. Fandango turned to me. Was there a flicker of recognition? His paper bag face was inscrutable."
makes one sound like an insane person, squeaking out giggles. Fandango my nango, indeed.
In 3D!
Of course! And we have to get one of those Twilight kids in there somewhere, too. We want to appeal to all those squealing tweens, too. A couple of explosions and we'll have the teen boys sewn up, too. Total demographic coverage, baby!
From an exhibitor perspective, I think the show was within the slow side. Traffic went by the booth, but we really was mandated to drag them in. I are not aware of if it helped or maybe hurt that Artist street was split into a couple halves by exhibitor/dealer booths. the options of Halloween weekend won't have really helped work either. The show is usually growing though, so maybe exhibitors gives it another year.
the name,nango tristan shah riederich tut akhil