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SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 06 2008
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Making it through E3 in one piece is easier said than done. Memorize this handy list of terrors before braving the show floor.

The Booth Babe

The ultimate threat to any male showgoer attempting intelligent conversation. Strippers and starving actresses spawn regularly in L.A., making it the optimal breeding ground for all things artificial. Their inviting smiles and willingness to be captured on film with the dregs of geekdom are no less fabricated than the greenbacks which power their lust for your attention.

And damn, they're hot.

This pinnacle of mind-laming tech exists for the sole purpose of dealing you�


The Random Crap

Taking the form of innocent devices such as keychains, t-shirts, glow sticks or uninformative magazines, these come in vast quantities and will weigh down even the hardiest gamer. For all its size, know that there are no garbage cans at E3; whatever attaches to you sticks like two-day old Mountain Dew. Beware the baggage.

Don't be fooled by the quality of the shwag, either. Hunchbacked by sheer marketing tonnage, such burdened attendees will find that The Booth Babe becomes even more attractive, making them more willing to take more crap. To get out of this nightmarish cycle, you must grab your skull and rotate hard. Just make sure not to stare into the black hole that is�


The Fanboy

Clogging hallways to get babes within drool range, storming stages and "Media Only" desks for the Random Crap, or just being generally smelly and obnoxious, The Fanboy is responsible for making all E3 hazards possible. They are not here for the games, but to bask in the glory of gaming heaven while making it hell for everyone else.

While weak and cowardly on their own, fanboys have the ability to congeal into huge mobs of lameness. One slip and you may very well get swept up in the blob's riptides and find yourself in front of Hello Kitty! 3D, gamepad in hand.

The only documented ways to successfully navigate through the oceanic waves of Fanboys is to stick close to the walls, avoid eye contact and, if all else fails, distract them with an 'accidentally' dropped Zelda sticker.

But there is no avoiding the Fanboy's foul biproduct�


The Odor

It's May in sunny Southern California, and you are in the trenches. Easygoing Day 1, with the air conditioners blasting nostril-direct Freon, might make you think it's bound to be an olfactory walk in the park.

By the middle of Day 2, however, your nose will run from the fumes of tens of thousands of sweaty Fanboys walking off a year's worth of White Castle nights. Any hope that the combined gallons of now-stale AXE body spray will cover up the stench is lost.

By Day 3, the odor has evolved to v. 2.0, now enhanced with post-Sony party gin breath. With your immune system weakened, this is where you get your upcoming raging flu.

Bring some mints, strong ones, and follow your nose outside whenever possible.



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