Are there bullies at RenFair? Apparently there are. I’m walking around enjoying my turkey leg, not dressed up at all, when a giant bespectacled guy in puffy stripy pants and a bell-adorned jester’s cap slaps it out of my hand. “Some nerve you got Normie. Thinking you can walk around without a costume.” He turns his head and curls a hand next to his mouth to project his voice. “Hey, we got a Normie over here! Thinks he’s better than us!” I’m slowly encircled by a horde of costumed malcontents that are ready to take years of social frustration out on me. I put both hands up in a placating gesture. “Why don’t we all take it down a—” Jeers turn to snarls and suddenly they’re charging. I open my eReader to Echo. Magic flash. Peter Jackson, George R.R. Martin, and Gary Gygax appear in front of me, holding their dukes up. (Apparently they’ve been working out, ‘cos all three are super yoked.) The nerds are shocked into stillness. Jackson roars something in Elvish, then we’re mowing through the nerds using our hands, feet, and a good helping of jiu-jitsu. I’m mounting some kind of fighter-wizard and raining punches down when I glance over at Jackson. He’s got a knight in a chokehold and rips the guy’s ear off with his teeth. As the guy’s screaming, the director of LOTR meets my gaze and gives me a savage, blood-coated grin.