San Japanic Attack!

Originally Published Online August 2013

While San Japan “Sinister Six” was an anime convention and not a furry convention, it inspired this story, which does have a furry in it and gave me an opportunity to poke a little fun at ourselves. On a side note, I find arguments very enjoyable to write. I’m not sure what that says about me.

This was actually a re-write, check out the original version: “Attack of the Die Mistress!”

It was a pleasant Friday at the Henry B. Gonzalez Convention Center and San Japan was once again in full swing: Attendees walked about the main hall, artists and craftspeople offered their works for sale in their booths, mock combatants swung at each other with foam swords and cosplayers stopped and posed for pictures. One statuesque woman with straight dark hair shunned any and all attendees who tried to compliment her or take her photograph, though. She wore a purple unitard that was covered with white numbers and a black cape. She walked to the center of the hall, cleared her throat and proclaimed to the crowd in a loud voice:


A group of people congregated around the Die Mistress. Her ultimatum was followed by a brief moment of silence, and then the crowd began to applaud. This was not the reaction the Mistress had expected to receive; she stared back and glared at the attendees, some of whom were taking her picture with their cell phones and cameras.

Thinking that her tone had not been forceful enough, the Die Mistress prepared to repeat her ultimatum, but was interrupted by another speaker.

“TREMBLE IN FEAR, SAN JAPAN, FOR EL LOBO ROJO HAS COME TO RAVAGE YOUR CELEBRATION!” a loud male voice tinged with a Latin accent cried from just within the main entrance. Everyone turned to look at the source of the voice: a muscular six-foot tall wolf man covered in red fur. Rojo growled and snarled as he looked around the hall. He saw the Die Mistress and paused. Rojo then ran towards her, the attendees separating to let him through. He stopped about twenty feet away from her and pointed an accusatory paw in her direction. The attendees, sensing that something was about to happen, made a wide circle around them.

“Just what are you doing here, Die Mistress?” he asked.

The Die Mistress was not amused by the question. “I am here to plunder this motley collection of nerds, wolf,” she said. A cry of “Hey!” came from someone in the crowd. “Deal with it, geeks!” she yelled back.

Rojo pointed his paws to his chest as he answered: “You are mistaken, señora. I am here to ravage this celebration and spread my own special brand of mayhem. You will need to find another place to rob so that I may work.”

“You are the one that needs to leave, fuzzy, because I was here first,” insisted the Die Mistress.

“And what if I don’t?” threatened Rojo.

“You are going to suffer a critical hit that you won’t soon forget!” the Die Mistress said angrily.

El Lobo Rojo looked over his adversary and let out a scoff. “Seriously, lady? Do you even have any powers? Exactly what are you supposed to be with all those numbers on your super-suit? An evil math teacher?”

That was enough for the Die Mistress. She made a fist with her right hand and it began to glow purple. “I am your end, furball. YOU HAVE JUST FAILED YOUR SAVING THROW!” She yelled before making a throwing motion with her right arm. Rojo instinctively raised his paws to deflect the incoming attack.

A pair of purple twenty-sided dice flew out of the Mistress’ hand and landed on the floor in between them. Rojo maintained his stance for a moment, then leaned forward and sniffed.

After a few awkward moments of silence, he spoke: “That’s IT? Aren’t they going to explode or let out sleeping gas or turn into monsters or something?”

The Die Mistress blushed with embarrassment. “No. They’re supposed to be bigger. I haven’t completely gotten the hang of my powers yet.” She replied.

“Dice? Seriously? What kind of lame power is throwing dice? If they come up seven do you have to surrender?” El Lobo Rojo said, laughing. Some of the people in the crowd joined him. Rojo stopped laughing and a serious look came over his face. He started walking towards the Die Mistress and growled: “Enough games, lady. Get out so a real villain can work.”

The Die Mistress started to back away, quickly making throwing motions towards the floor with her hands as she did. More dice flew out of her hands and landed on the floor. Unimpressed, the wolf continued to advance, but before he could reach the Mistress, he stepped on a four-sided die. He yelped in pain and fell to the ground, letting out a second yelp as he landed directly on top of some other dice.

The Die Mistress stopped her retreat and taunted the fallen wolf: “Wow, you really are a ‘bad’ dog, aren’t you?”

“You’re lucky I don’t wear shoes, lady.” The wolf angrily shot back. He gingerly picked himself up, being careful to avoid the many dice of all shapes and colors that now littered the floor. The Die Mistress and some of the gathered crowd began to laugh. This only angered Rojo further.

“Shut up! How about you make some fuzzy dice for my CAR, eh?” He hissed after getting back up on his feet.

“And what is your super-power, licking yourself?” shouted back the Mistress.

“Shouldn’t you be in a casino serving drinks?”

“Shouldn’t you be humping somebody’s leg?”

The bemused crowd looked on as the two villains continued to shout insults back and forth at each other.

Meanwhile, a group of people approached the scene, led by two men: a bald man in his early thirties wearing a badge that said “Dave” and a large man with black hair in a buzz-cut sporting sunglasses and a yellow t-shirt that said “SAN JAPAN SECURITY” in bold black letters on its back. A small group of people wearing similar yellow shirts followed them.

“What’s going on over there?” Dave asked.

“You know as much as I do, chief. Those two jokers came in and started making a scene.” The security head replied.

“Well, I don’t see any badges, so they’re gone. Take care of it.” Dave said.

“With pleasure, boss. Hold these for a moment, would you?” The large man said as he took off his sunglasses and handed them to Dave. “Let’s take out the trash, people!” He enthusiastically said to the staff members behind him. They all rushed the bickering pair.


Some time later, a small crowd had gathered outside of the convention center as the Die Mistress and El Lobo Rojo were placed into separate squad cars by San Antonio Police Department officers. Dave stood nearby speaking with a police lieutenant, who looked up at a large San Japan banner that hung over the convention center entrance. He shook his head briefly before speaking: “So you throw a convention with ‘Villains’ as the theme and real villains show up. Nice.”

Dave shrugged and said: “You know, next year’s theme was going to be ‘giant monsters,’ but now I’m not so sure!”