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Robin Williams Live At The Furcon

Robin Williams Live At The Furcon

by otterlymindblowing
9 min read
4.76 (1400 views)
adultfiction
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This story is not so much a story and more a transcription. I had a dream of the greatest comedy routine that never happened in reality, and woke up wishing it had. While I can't wave a magic wand and make it happen, I can bring this much to you all

.

I find myself in a crowd, near but not quite at the front. Looking down I find that I'm in a fursuit I never owned, I am here as Otterly. To my left and right I can see more people, many dressed as I was. A FurCon, then. From the cheers a show just finished. A voice comes over the intercom.

"This has been your Furry Writers in the World panel, great show everyone. Don't go anywhere! We have a surprise encore for you."

The cheers immediately hush and the lights dim. I can see the crew removing most of the panel tables from the stage, leaving only a small one. That one gets loaded up with bottles of water. A LOT of bottles of water. After a few moments, the stage lights come back on, and the same announcer came back on.

"Guys, gals, and enby pals. Live, at our humble FurCon, Mr. Robin Williams!"

The crowd immediately erupted into raucous cheers, along with at least a few awoos. The man himself walked out onto the stage, dressed in a plain white short-sleeved shirt and jeans, waving at the crowd.

"Thank you! Boy is it hot outside, but you all know how to turn up the AC, don't you?"

The crowd laughs as Robin reaches over to grab his first, but most certainly not his last, bottle of water and takes a few gulps before continuing.

"The staff at the front desk were very helpful. I walked in and the woman IMMEDIATELY knew that I had to be here for the FurCon. Pointed me right to it! I was just thinking to myself how excellent this place was when she said it. 'I love your suit, sir!'"

Robin looks down at his bare, but rather hairy, arms.

"I'm sorry lady, but it's just me. I mean, yes, I'm going to the FurCon, but that's not why!"

Riotous laughter continues as Robin looks exasperated.

"Never been to one of these particular conventions before so I had to ask my kids for advice. They all started laughing immediately, so I thought... maybe some research. That led me

straight

down the rabbit hole, let me tell you!"

Robin seems caught off-guard by exactly how loud the laughs got at this point, then realizes exactly what he just said

.

"Okay, okay, I deserved that one. I have to be real careful of my pun game around these parts, you've all been playing the home game since the eighties! I will say, walking in, that I've never been propositioned by a cat before. That was definitely my second gorilla, though. And after that research? There were apparently a LOT of bears I didn't bother counting! Now, I would ask why the wolf ladies are always hunting in packs, but that seems self-evident."

While several bears, both by suit and by build, are cheering, they are joined by quite a few Awoos scattered around the crowd.

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"And I know better than to ask to make this a No Awoo zone. Either the penalty jar's going to fill up in 28 seconds or literally everyone is getting kicked out. I know you want to do it, so let it out!"

This particular howl and Awoo was MASSIVE, much to everyone's laughter

.

"There you go! Better than primal scream therapy any day, isn't it? Tried that once while I was in rehab and it didn't go so well. Guess it didn't help that I was screaming 'VODKA,' which they apparently discourage at Betty Ford Hospital. Now, if alcohol's your game, I'm not here to play it. At least... not anymore. I realized when I stopped all of that it became a lot easier to get to the shows."

He takes several exaggerated stumbles across stage as the crowd giggles, eventually pantomiming himself leaning against a wall and pressing an elevator button and stumbling in

.

"My car thanked me too, now that it didn't look like the surface of the moon anymore. That, ladies and gentlemen, was my cue to stop doing cocaine. But here! You're all just high on life! It's wonderful! I walked into one room and thought I was hallucinating, but it turned out that it was just the Dealer's Den and the swirling colors were Pride flags instead of LSD."

A significant portion of the crowd were holding at least one of those flags and started waving them. Robin's eyes widen.

"Flashbacks!"

More laughs

.

"You never really realize you made it until you walk into a room like that and see just exactly how much of the merch is of YOU. The number of Genies I saw granting wishes was incredible! So many people putting on fur it was like I was in a Louis Vuitton! Now, I won't tell Disney if you don't. This is a

very different

House of Mouse we're in, after all! Lots of Morks, too."

He pauses with a crooked look on his face

.

"So I turned around and went back to the Genies. Now, apparently there was some debate in there about what I was going to come as. Looked like half of them wanted me to show up looking like a member of the Blue Man Group. Lots of people had me in a gorilla suit, didn't want to risk that one, sorry. One table had a guy draw me as a beautiful red-orange bird and say 'Look! He's a robin!' Had to give him points for that one, a lot of people would have thought it was too obvious but he saw the opportunity and by golly he took it! I almost dropped my birdseed while I was applauding."

He reaches into his pocket and scatters some sunflower seeds around while drinking some more water.

"Now I hear that I'm not the only famous person at this convention. Steve Irwin is here, say hi!"

No response comes.

"Guess he got lost. Can't really blame him, though, can you imagine all of this from his point of view? 'Oh, CRIKEY! Would ya look at that? The beautiful teeth on this specimen! I've nevah seen a croc and a panda interact like this before, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity!' After the show I'll have to go look for him. Maybe somewhere a lot of suited up people go at once late at night."

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The crowd once again seems to surprise him with the strength of their laughter, until he facepalms. He takes another deliberate drink of water before continuing.

"Oh, right. That again. This script probably should have gone to convention staff for editing and review before I came here, shouldn't it? FurCons are a lot like National Geographic, the themes change pretty quickly after the sun sets. I'm sure Steve will be fine, though, it isn't often he gets invited to observe the mating habits of the local wildlife, by the local wildlife. Me? I have a different destination in mind. Something I hear about a dance competition scheduled for tonight?"

More cheers, this time he expected them.

"Ah, yes, as long as people have been dancing, people have been trying to see who dances better than who. So how else to do it than by dressing up in three layers of sweaters, strapping ten extra pounds to your forehead that come with blinders, and throwing yourself around the floor like you're shadow boxing a luchador and losing?"

He throws himself around the stage energetically before standing up, wiping his forehead, opening a second bottle of water, and drinking some more.

"But then you always get a couple out there. You know the ones I'm talking about. You don't know who that is under the fur, but you're pretty sure you'd recognize them if they took it off."

More laughs.

"I meant the head this time!"

Louder laughs

.

"Yep, not winning that one. Back to the dancers! The way they move! They float! They bounce! They spin! At Juilliard we had the Balanchine dancers. So beautiful, so graceful, but they'd come here, look at round one, and go 'nope, I'm out!' How do they even do that? It's like the Brazilian soccer team of dance!"

He drinks more water and shakes his head.

"And then after it's done they invite everyone else onto the floor. Didn't realize how many furry DJs there are, but I was not surprised at how robust the IT team was. More striped thigh-highs than a Where's Waldo in here. And thank you LORD that it's techno and dance music and not heavy metal, because can you IMAGINE what a mosh pit would look like on a FurCon dance floor? More to the point, if one forms, would it be called a furball?"

More laughs from the crowd.

"Was that too on the nose? Or snout, I guess. Much more and that joke would make a Boop sound when it hit."

Another sip of water

.

"But now people are bringing outside problems here, like racism. WHY? Seriously, go to the Fursuit Parade and count the colors. They always told me that we should help people whether they're black, white, purple, or green. Well guess what? This is the one place that people are all of the above! Animals in colors that would make a blind gay guy blink. And you know what? I passed by three blind gay guys on the way in, so I know I'm right. If you're going to come to a FurCon and complain about the color of someone's skin of all things, I don't know what to tell you. It's like going to a Cracker Barrel and complaining about the toys. You know they're gonna be there and it's the best part anyway."

The crowd cheers even louder.

"Thank you all for coming! Remember to be nice to the Con staff and the hotel staff, this place isn't a litter box. Have fun, and good night!"

He walks off the stage to even greater applause, running up the aisle instead of exiting stage left and high-fiving people on both sides as he passes. I wasn't in range to do so, but it was at this point that my own vision faded to white. The dream, it seemed, was over.

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