Uploaded September 2024 | Updated September 2026, 1 hour ago

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Parody Violation track 13. Thanks to rocketman0739 for providing high-quality versions of these songs.
Download the album here: archive.org/details/filk_parody_violation
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Lyrics (TTTO "Dawson's Christian," Duane Elms):

Jayme Dawson was the chairman of the concom [convention committee] and the crew,
When they won the bid for Worldcon back in fall of '82
And that concom was the finest bunch from NESFA [New England Science Fiction Association] to LA,
And the con that they were planning was the same

On their way to sign the contract, then go out and have some fun,
They were jumped by three cheap lawyers, though they were no match for one,
And as they read the fine-print clauses, they discovered with alarm
They'd just bought the general manager a farm

Well, they say that Jayme Dawson was a trufan to his core,
They say he took to fanac [fan activity] just like Patton took to war,
But they say he made his bargain in the hotel bar that night,
That he sold his soul to win his final fight

No fan living saw that battle, though the smofs [secret masters of fandom] were quick to leave,
But at the site they found a scene no mundane would believe
Three fat lawyers in their skivvies, with their briefs strewn all around,
But no trace of Dawson's con was ever found

There are stories of New Orleans [Worldcon 1988] and ConDiego [NASFiC 1990] too,
Of potatoes bounced at Westercon [1966] and costumes made of goo
But the tale that makes my beanie spin, 'cause I know what went on,
Is the tale of Jayme Dawson and his con
His gofers and his concom and his con

I was Program Ops for concom, working night shift, feeling fine
Running loads of Diet Pepsi to the consuite up on 9
I was standing in the doorway, watching femfen [female fans] with delight,
When the rent-a-cops appeared out of the night

Well, I thought our con was ended and our partying was done
(Never argue with a dimwit when the dimwit has a gun)
But the crowd was feeling rowdy and the cops were getting mean
When another fan appeared upon the scene

Well, I thought he was a filker, but he carried no guitar,
And I thought he was a gamer, but he looked too bright by far
So I tried to read his nametag, and I felt a sudden dread,
For the holder of his badge was glowing red

He pulled a bottle from his jacket, and I knew not what to think
When he walked up to the rent-a-cops and offered them a drink
But the genius of that single fan is shown by very few,
For he offered them a slug of Tully Dew

And that liquor's proof was higher than all booze they'd had before
That liquor's taste was smoother than the lines of any whore
And they drank it down by glassfuls as we watched and shook our heads
Till the rent-a-cops passed out upon the beds
Four rent-a-cops passed out on one small bed

Then as quickly as he'd come, the stranger turned as if to go,
For the rent-a-cops were smiling, though at what we'll never know
So we walked him to the elevator, faces filled with awe,
Then the doors slid back and this is what we saw

There were thirty fen crammed in there, plus two mundanes at the back,
And we knew by their expressions that the lot of them had cracked
Then they turned to show their badges and we read them and we knew
The fate of Jayme Dawson and his crew
It was an Otis, and a grave for all his crew

Then he turned and punched for Lobby, but they all began to fade,
First their t-shirts, then their buttons, as we trembled there afraid
But there are twenty fen who'll swear with me, the last thing that they said
Was "Beam us up, the parties here are dead!"

There are stories of New Orleans and ConDiego too,
Of potatoes bounced at Westercon and costumes made of goo
But the tale that makes my beanie spin, 'cause I know what went on,
Is the tale of Jayme Dawson and his con
His gofers and his concom and his con
Yes, they're bidding once again for Dawson's con!