Demos: You CAN screw them up...

In another sordid tale of working in the gaming industry, allow me to start with some background (and I'll keep it brief). I have worked in a sales and marketing role for several major tabletop/hobby game companies. That means, I had to go to a lot of shows like Origins, Gen Con, Pax, and Comic Con. Not only did I work the show booth, but often times I either gave hundreds of game demos, or trained the staff to give demos. The simple goal of a demo is to get someone to invest in the game.


Therefore, the company took demos very seriously. I would carefully write a script, and train the show staff to follow it. That way, everyone was giving the same demo. It's a kind of marketing and quality control. Every part of that demo was by design.

So here's the story of how it can go wrong. At Origins (a game show in Ohio that is about 3 years past its death) I found myself on a 15 minute break. I like to use my breaks as a way to scout out other companies and products and I usually pick a new game that I end up purchasing or trading for by the end of the show. I like board games, and have always liked the beautiful quality and creepy themes of Fantasy Flight Games. On my break, I wandered over to their booth and asked for a demo of "Fury of Dracula." The young 'volunteer' eagerly sat me down in front of the board and started rattling off rules...in no particular order. After about 10 minutes of my 15 minute break, I asked him "how long will this demo take?" He said "Oh, about 2 and a half hours." O_o

What the fuck, dude? It's going to take 2.5 hours of my day for you to try to sell me on this game?!
I should just read the back of the box. I explained that my break was almost over and that I had to get back. Which sucked. I got to see the components, and it looked cool. But I had no idea if I would actually like the game or not. And I never even got to play a turn!

So I went back to my booth, and passed my story on to one of my co-workers (Justin), who then lit up and said "Oh that's a great game!" and he proceeded to give me a 2 minute rundown of what the game was about and how it plays. I was hooked! I got all excited and really wanted to buy it.

Keep something in mind: In just 2 fucking minutes, without even having the actual game in front of him to work with, Justin gave a much better demo and actually sold me on the game!

FFG's demo monkey was planning on taking half my day and even had the game to present to me, and couldn't get it done.

So how is this possible? Well, I trained Justin and not the other guy, so Justin gave a great demo and did his job!
To break it down and not sound like an ass: Justin injected all the story and flavor and excitement of the game in his explanation, instead of randomly quoting pages of the rules. And he kept it short. He demoed the game like he was trying to get a friend involved, not as if he was trying to teach a thermodynamics course at a community college.

It's a simple formula: Tell a story, and get the player some hands-on action right away. It should take no more than 5 minutes. The next time you walk around at Gen Con (Origins will be dead by the time this post gets published) take a lot of demos. You'll see the difference. I've had great demos sell me on an okay game, and I've had shitty demos turn me off from a great game.

And if you're giving a demo, try not to make your customers drool themselves to dehydration. Don't fuck it up like some people.

Gaming at home (or, 'How I learned to enjoy my hobby')...

Last time, we discussed how 'Sidecars' can throw a huge wrench into your enjoyable game (be it tabletop miniatures, card games, board games, etc).

This leads me to explain why I enjoy gaming at home:

1. No one else is around to comment on, or interrupt, my game. This is great, because I can't stand the 'armchair general.' I know my army looks awesome, and I know I made some tactical errors on nearly every turn. I don't need play-by-play, and your strategic advice is unsolicited. And going beyond that, neither I nor my kid have to learn new words for 'vagina' from the boisterous dude at the other table. I've literally been in a store full of kids where some of the older teenagers had a full-volume conversation about "sluts" they've "fucked in the mouth." 90% of the customers in stores are responsible for giving game stores their dubious, shady reputation, which in turn degrades the value of the products and thusly, sales.

2. The bathrooms are clean. This is a big deal, since 99% of all game store bathrooms carry 99% of most known viruses and bacteria. This includes, but is not limited to, the Hanta virus, Bubonic Monkey blindness, most African mosquito-borne diseases, NM-156, e-coli, and depression.

3. No one is trying to sell me anything. The GW stores excel at this. "Man, you could really use another 10 minotaurs to beef up that unit." No, what I need is to not be made to feel like I owe you something for using your tables and babysitting your bored kids (see #1).

4. Swearing. For me, it's the 'fluff' that enhances the story. I'm respectful enough to not do it in a store full of kids, but on my home turf it's "fuck-all!"

5. Drinking. After the movement and shooting phases, comes the drinking phase. A buddy of mine used to supply a bottle of something for each game. The rule was, we both had a drink at the end of each turn, and we had to finish the bottle by the end of the game. As a result, I have no idea what my lifetime record was against him. By turn 4 of a Warhammer game our bottle of chilled, unfiltered Sakè was halfway gone, and Beastmen and Wood Elves were having a Mardi Gras together on the battlefield. All the models shook hands after the game.

6. I don't have to smell your food. Nothing turns my stomach like the smell of McDonalds which has been congealing and achieving room temperature for 4 hours. At home, we can roll out the grill and throw on some steaks or BBQ chicken. And I won't have strangers wandering over to ask if I'm going to finish my fries (see #1).

7. I can play my own music. And I guarantee my music is better than yours. Honestly, I choose background music to enhance the game, and it adds a certain ambiance that my guests enjoy.

8. It's free. Nothing beats the comfort at home, and I don't have the store staff trying to charge me for the divine privilege of using their plywood table with beat-to-shit terrain consisting of spray painted pop cans and cardboard 'bunkers' that make the battlefield look like downtown Beirut.

All in all, if home-cooked meals made from fresh local ingredients, great-looking terrain, a good soundtrack, clean bathrooms and a wargame-like ambiance sound good to you then come on over!

And bring booze.

Game Store personality #113: "The Sidecar"

So there you are, knee deep in a Warhammer game with all your pretty minis marching across the table, and your opponent struggling to counter your thought-out strategy. Without warning, a stray customer or bored staff member drags up a stool, cracks open a new 2-liter of Mt. Dew and comfortably settles in to watch the remaining 2.5 hours of your friendly game.

He is "The Sidecar," and he's there to provide commentary, play-by-play and after-the-fact tactical advice only when things don't work out.

And by the Gods, I know this character well. He'll pick up one of my painstakingly-painted, and strategically-placed models and say "wow he looks pretty cool" and then set it down in a random spot on the table. First rule of gaming etiquette: ASK before you grab someone's item.

The second rule is obviously regarding the fact that you do not have an open invitation to take part in someone's game. I don't want your opinions, your comments, your advice. I don't come into your home, sit on the arm of your futon and say "whatcha doin?" And like most parasites, they are hard to get rid of. Engaging them in conversation only welcomes them with open arms. And ignoring them doesn't get the point across.

For this type of parasite, I always keep extra granola bars in my army case and I start eating them. This usually makes the Sidecar hungry. It may leave your table in order to satiate its appetite. But it may also have its own food on-hand, in which case, the hunger strategy fails.

And I honestly don't have a good backup plan.

D&D

If, after a long night of drinking Drano, I decided to throw my time and money away into a failing business model known as a "game store," I would call it D&D Games. The "D&D" would stand for "Dice & Deodorant" and would require everyone to bring both of those items with them in order to be allowed entry into the store.

The gaming industry is rife with stereotypes, but as we know, stereotypes come from SOMEWHERE. And as someone who was once paid to visit independently owned game stores across the country, I can assure you that those labels are right on the money. Not everyone who is called a "gamer" has a problem with hygiene, a few bad apples...

What's worse is the number of people who show up to play, and simply don't bring their rulebook or dice or tape measure (which they DO own), and ask the staff to borrow theirs. I was going to make the point that these people remembered to dress and feed themselves, and how could they forget the essential components to the very activity they planned to do that day, but I can't say that with a straight face. Some people BARELY dress or feed themselves before coming to the game store.

My next entry will focus on why I like to game at home.

You get my goat...

I only have a Bachelor's degree from the University of Akron, but if there's one thing I've learned, you can't bullshit the bullshitter.

So when the red-shirt tells me "Don't worry, the new 8th edition rulebook will make your Beastmen book make sense" I could see the company line buying its ticket, boarding the insane train, and start huffing down the track towards me.

Hey man, it's not that the Beastmen book doesn't make sense to me, it's that the book is a train-wreck! And no new rule in that 8th ed phone book is going to enlighten me on what a beautiful gem the Beastmen book must really be. Face it, this is (pretty much) how it went down:


(Nottingham, UK)
Scene 1, Studio Manager enters stage left, looking forlorn. At Phil (Kelly): "Did you hear about Andy? 'Is desk is cleaned out and he's not with us anymore."

Phil: "Oh drag, that's chav. Fancy a pint?"

Manager: "Nay, but we need you to collect his notes and finish the Beasts book."

Phil: "Blimey, I've got so much to do already!"

Manager: "Righty-O, well the rules are about halfway done already, so don't spend more than 15 minutes on it, 'coz we have to get it to the printer-bloke."

Phil: "Cheers, mate. I'll just put the ungors back on 20mm bases and call it a day!"

Manager: "Right, that'll do!"

(Three months later)

Me: O_o

Girl, you have such soft hands...

Girl…I see you giving me eyes from across the game store. Yeah, I know it, ‘cause I’m lookin’ right back. I see you leaning against the Bawls machine, while your Twilight t-shirt belies a voluptuousness that I can’t get back home. You picking up all that I am throwin’ down, babygirl?

Yeah but I’m hungry for something a little lower… around all those curves and past your jelly bracelets. I see those hands, those soft paws with little sausage-fingers wigglin’ at the ends. Girl, your hands give you away… you want to paint my army!

Baby you KNOW what it does to me, to see you laying sprawled on the floor of my studio apartment, prostrate with paint as you put love on a brush and give it good to my 40 clanrats with spears.

I’m gettin’ Frenzied just thinking about it.

And I know after a long day in the warehouse, I’m coming home to that finished unit…and to you, paint flecks on those sausage-fingers. Yeah, you’re on your back waiting for me… passed out on the floor next to that snack-size bag of funyons that we saved from the other day when we split that Quizno’s from next to the game store.

Girl, that clanrat unit looks so fine, and only another 40 to go. Damn baby, we make a great team. I throw down some squares and toss some dice, dishin’ out PAIN on the terrain. My opponent just standin’ there, lookin all fool. And I just smile cause I got you, girl, to paint all my armies.