IF HE HAD BEEN THE MAIN CHARACTER IT WOULD HAVE BEEN CALLED FIFTH SENSE (DUDE CONRAD I'M SORRY YUKO THOUGHT OF IT DDD: DON'T BEAT MEEEE)
It's well-documented around here that Conrad actually doesn't have any sense of smell, but it's one of those things that we tend to forget. In a lot of ways it's pretty similar to how forgetful I am about Hawk and Ramadan ... except in this case everyone forgets, so maybe I am just being a jerk to Hawk.
Conrad came out of his room with this huge ziploc bag full of quarters, and this is more or less the conversation that transpired, transcribed here for your amusement. You'll also note Conrad's rave-appropriate attire - glowsticks and glowloopies and glowglows and glowy-glow-mcglowertons. This is largely what I know about raves, although the rave-knowledge I received in my youth has been modified somewhat by the conventions I've attended since. My friend Nick, who will go without last name, was the first entrepreneur to think to sell glowsticks at conventions ...
Hey everyone! I'm Conrad, that unfortunate looking dude you see directly above and below this post. I'm responsible for making sure stuff runs smoothly around here, but I'll occasionally be jumping in here to bother you all by saying something inappropriate.
Want to know the best way to get your extended family to call you? Link your mom to a comic you're in. Just a thought.