Authors & Dragons Comedy DnD Podcast · Authors & Dragons

Side Quest 153: Con Men

March 11, 2026·1 hr 2 min·5 clips
SideQuest opens the way Authors & Dragons often does, with a little self-aware flailing before the conversation finds its footing. The crew introduces the lineup and then immediately starts treating language like something fragile and easy to break. That sets the pace for most of the episode. The talk turns to convention life and the upcoming Con-Carolinas appearance. The hosts get into what it means to show up at a con and stay present for the people who want to see them. That leads into a discussion of presentation as part of the job. A costume becomes part of that discussion. One speaker says a distinct look helps separate stage life from ordinary life. It also makes it easier for fans to spot him at a table, which matters when people are talking about his books without realizing he wrote them. From there, the conversation keeps widening. The group compares public-facing conventions, recognition, and the odd etiquette of being on display while still trying to feel like a normal person. The mood stays light, but the point is plain enough: conventions are work, performance, and social labor all at once. The joke pressure keeps building. Someone brings up Steve Wetherill's golden hot pants, and the room immediately knows that this is now everybody's problem. The image gets treated as both absurd and useful, which is very much the show. What follows is familiar panel drift. One anecdote lands, another host picks at it, and the whole thing gets worse in the funniest way possible. The talk bounces between fan interactions, stage identity, and the ridiculousness of costume choices. Nothing stays neat for long. The episode also leans hard into physical comedy. A story about standing or sitting at the wrong height turns into a stream of jokes about where a person's gaze ends up and why that is everyone else's problem now. The panel does not politely move on. It keeps digging until the bit has no dignity left. That willingness to keep going is a big part of the appeal. The hosts do not protect the joke from embarrassment. They feed it. The side quest format gives them room to do that. There is less pressure to deliver a clean narrative, so the conversation can wander into the funniest available corner. The result feels alive in the way a good convention table sounds alive: interruptions, callbacks, and people trying to outrun each other's punchlines. Even the more sincere parts of the discussion stay in the show's register. There is real appreciation for meeting listeners and for doing the work that comes with showing up at events. But the show refuses to let sincerity sit untouched for long. A heartfelt point is usually followed by a rude aside or a stupid image. The pacing stays quick enough that the episode never really goes still. It may take a minute to remember what thread it started on, but that is because the group is more interested in the next sharp joke than in preserving order. The conversation keeps finding new ways to embarrass itself. The convention material gives the episode a solid anchor. Fans of the books, the panel, and the wider Authors & Dragons orbit will recognize the social world right away. If you know the scene, the jokes land harder because the people telling them are clearly comfortable enough to be mean to each other in public. What makes the episode work is not just the subject matter. It is the timing between people who know exactly when to interrupt, when to escalate, and when to let a bad image hang in the air for one extra beat. That timing turns a basic con chat into a chain of escalating bits. The episode keeps its feet in the real world just long enough to make the nonsense funnier. Conventions, books, tables, costumes, and audience recognition are all real concerns. The show just uses them as a launchpad for trouble. By the time the conversation reaches its most shameless stretch, the panel has fully committed to the bit economy. Every new example is a chance to make the situation weirder. Every clarification is another chance to derail. That is why the episode stays entertaining even when it wanders. The drift is not a flaw. It is the engine. The final impression is of a group that knows exactly how to turn a convention story into a shared laugh riot. The jokes are rude, the tone is loose, and the whole thing keeps moving just fast enough to stay dangerous. It sounds like friends who trust the room enough to let it get ugly for comedy.

As heard by us

A convention floor hangout that moves from plugs into costume jokes and the comedy of being recognizable in public.

The episode opens with Con-Carolinas plugs, then settles into convention talk, costumes, and the odd pressure of being recognizable in public.

Read the full review in PlayNext →

Why you'd press play

For the con-floor chaos, costume talk, and a truly cursed hot-pants visual.

Read the full recommendation in PlayNext →
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