As we approach the theater where our event is being held, we hear the faint wafting of a light waltz. Not exactly the expected J-pop fare, but it's certainly enough to pique one's curiosity. If for no other reason, it's enough to make one wonder as to whether we're at the right venue. As we enter the hall, the music comes to a lilting halt, and those dancing on the floor stop and applaud the small orchestra on-stage. Their leader turns to acknowledge the applause before stepping to a nearby microphone and addressing the crowd. "T'ank you, t'ank you... It'sa wunnerful t'ing, to be invited to open the T'ird Biennyal Chicken Ball. Now, if all you nize folks out there would join me, I'd like to play the Chicken Dance for you." He picks up an accordion as he speaks, and deftly straps it on. Once satisfied he has it in position, he looks back at his backing orchestra. "An'a one, an'a two, an'a..." An'a they launch into that old wedding standard, the Chicken Dance, while the floor in front of the stage begins to fill with participants... most of them chickens themselves. No, we mean *real* poultry-type chickens, and one... uh... Over in the wings, a tuxedoed Gary Kleppe sidles up to Ukyou Kuonji, who's still in her street clothes (all right, her restaurant clothes) as she leans casually against an offstage post, watching the proceedings. "Say, how did you manage to get Gonzo the Great to show up?" "Oh, he's a real anime fan himself, didn'tcha know? I understand he tried to teach himself the Hadoken, but it turned out the only head he could blow up was his own. Not that he minded that, of course..." "No, I mean, how did you manage to contact him?" Ukyou smiles. "Bridget Wilde gave me numbers for *all* the Muppets. Most of the others weren't particularly interested - although Miss Piggy said something about coming if Ryouga showed up, but I obviously couldn't guarantee that. But Gonzo was all up for it; as you can see, he brought his whole harem with him. He even suggested the orchestra." Gary turns to watch the accordion player as his fingers fly up and down the keyboard. "Lawrence Welk?" Ukyou shrugs. "You have connections with the dead, or something?" "Not really..." And in fact, Ukyou looks a little shamefaced. "I did try, but Jerry Garcia is booked solid through 2004." She walks off to the green room, presumably to get dressed for the presentations. Gary shakes his head as he watches her go. "Walked right into *that* one...." "And I'll bet she never even *tried* talking to Jerry Garcia, either..." Hiroshi chimes in. Gary turns to look at his sidekick, either out of surprise at his sudden appearance, or wonder that Hiroshi just now seems to have figured out that Ukyou was joking. "What?" "Never mind. Where's Daisuke?" The sandy-haired boy indicates the wings on the other side of the stage, and the camera pans across to where Daisuke is crouched over an odd-looking mechanical contraption with a fair amount of convoluted piping ending in a large bell that anyone in the trombone section on-stage would have been proud of. A small brass plaque on the side of the machine indicates either its manufacturer or its model number: WASH-U. A second 'U' is scratched into the plaque rather crudely; evidently someone's idea of a joke, or else... "Hey, you two... have either of you seen my bubble machine? Built it special for Larry's comeback tonight!" Startled, Gary and Hiroshi spin around to face a young-looking girl with spiky, crimson hair. Washuu's normally cheerful demeanor is slightly tinged with concern; now is not the time to have misplaced an invention, especially since it's about time for its public debut. Hiroshi's eyes dart over to the other side, where Daisuke is still fiddling with the odd gizmo. "It wouldn't happen to be *that* thingamajig over there, would it?" Washuu's gaze follows Hiroshi's, and her eyes widen. "Oh, no... if he finds the 'on' switch..." Which, at that very moment, Daisuke apparently does, because a gout of foam spews forth from the bell of the machine. Colossal bubbles a foot in diameter are launched halfway across the stage before they start floating under their own power, while soapy liquid pours out onto the stage. For a moment, Washuu is transfixed by the sight, and then... "Turn that thing off! Look out, Larry!" She goes charging across the stage, toward her invention and Daisuke. Unfortunately, she skids on the soap scum already lathering the stage floor, and slides uncontrollably across the stage, taking out several chickens (including Gonzo's dance partner), and smacking into Lawrence Welk en route offstage, spinning him around furiously like a top. This does wonders for the accordion sound, which abruptly finishes the musical number with a sound like a demented slide whistle. Still scrambling to regain her footing, and pursued by a hopping-mad Gonzo, Washuu, chickens, and all smash sickeningly into the WASH-U machine, which unleashes a huge hiccup and belches out a tremendous cloud of soap bubbles that completely fill the stage and obscure everything on it. At least Gary has the presence of mind to lower the main curtain while everything behind it is still a mess. A bit stunned from all the chaos he's just witnessed, but otherwise determined to put a brave face on, he looks around for Megane and Zoogz, who will need to begin the show. As he glances across the stage to where Washuu and the others have piled up, he pauses. "Larry...?" He shrugs slightly, then retrieves a push-broom from its wall rack. (Music Cue: The Catchy CB Theme, Whatever song you like best....) "From the Air Canada CBC Dr. Brown's Celery Juice Tampax Arena, here are your Third Biennial CB Awards!" Presented by our special guests...(in alphabetical order) Bert Miller Brian Randall David 'Fido' Lindquist Gary Kleppe Ginrai Jonathan 'Jon' Rosbaugh LaShawn Wanak Megane 6.7 Rakhal Rylan 'Dannycat' Hilman Scott 'Zoogz' Jamison Steve 'Nightman' Cornett Ukyou Kuonji Unseen <031537@comcast.net> "And now, here are your hosts, Zoogz and Megane 6.7!" Megane 6.7 and Zoogz walk on stage, dressed in matching vintage T-shirts with tuxedos printed on them, and jeans. Zoogz is also wearing a lobster bib around his neck, something that doesn't go unnoticed by Megane as they approach the podium. "You said something about food backstage, and I always say you can't be too prepared..." Zoogz offers as he notices Megane staring at him. "Considering our budget this year, maybe you should have worn a 'Kraft Cheese and Macaroni bib,'" Megane wisecracks before addressing the audience. "Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the third Annual Chickenball Awards! It's a pleasure to once again be co-hosting these awards, honoring many aspects of fanfiction and their creativity. "So therefore, we're going to give them the Bronzed Balls of Chicken, to celebrate their accomplishments and watch as their fillings and teeth leave them quicker than the resolution of a Gundam Wing lemon. "And rather than simply dance to the music, we're going to go the extra mile and attempt to entertain you with all manners of skits, hijinks and hilarity -- gods willing, all intended. "So without further ado, here to present our first category of the evening, 'Sickest Fanfic,' here is the Overfiend!" Several people in the crowd scream and dive under their chairs at this announcement while the rest murmur with concern. After a few moments though, the stage remains empty. The murmurs of concern quickly become murmurs of confusion. Meanwhile, backstage, a single tentacle twitches nervously as the Overfiend peeks out from behind the curtain. Then he looks back at Zoogz and Megane and exclaims in a thick New York Accent, "I just can't do it. There's no way. With the crowds, and the lights...." "Aw, come on, Woody, you're a hundred times their size! Don't let 'em intimidate ya!" Megane said encouragingly as he and Zoogz donned industrial rubber gloves and ponchos before pushing Woody out on stage. "Here's my doctor telling me to avoid stress and I have two Gentiles pushing me to my doom... sheesh." The Overfiend sighs as Zoogz and Megane leave the stage. As Woody nervously approaches the podium, a few of his tentacles begin twitching, causing some of the women in the audience to scream and hide behind the seats. "Oh, d-don't worry, ladies! They won't prematurely ejaculate! Of course, if I have any Asian adopted daughters around, I'm not making guarantees..." A drum fill was heard offstage as the audience groaned. "No, r-really, I'm just an actor trying to get more screen time... I'm not really an evil demon that rapes and kills women... I can't even think about a woman naked without getting hives! You ever see hives on a demon tentacle beast? Not a pretty sight, ladies and gentlemen...." Woody takes a moment to gasp for much-needed oxygen, mumbling to himself under his breath. "Okay, Woody, stay calm, breathe, remember what your therapist told you... when in doubt, blow!" "AHHHHHHHHHHH!!" The entire audience dives behind chairs this time. "No no no no no! I meant, my instrument! No, not THAT instrument! It's not a strap-on, I swear. Heck, would someone like me need one? Oh sheesh, let me show you what I mean...." Woody fumbles around and eventually produces a golden clarinet which he brings to his lips and starts playing. Unfortunately, due to his lack of fingers, he doesn't play very well and the audience winces as he continually blows note after random note. Despite its lack of harmony, however, the instrument seems to calm Woody down and put him more at ease the more he blows. "Okay, okay, I'm calm now. Really. Here are the nominees for the Sickest Fanfic category.... "'A Broken Casket' by Kwokinator Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/FFIndex/ranlstA.htm#tag17 "'Kasumi's Dark Lessons' by Osr secret Author E-mail: Fic is at http://miniarchive.dyndns.org:8080/cgi-bin/MiniArchive? Page=Retrieve+Story&StoryID=156025 "'Pie in the Sky' by Crazyfic Author E-mail: Fic is at http://fanfic.tass-anime.com/ranma.pie-in-the-sky "'Ryoohki's Lover' by Adrian Tymes Author E-mail: Fic is at http://miniarchive.dyndns.org:8080/cgi-bin/MiniArchive? Page=Retrieve+Story&StoryID=153014 "And the winner is...." Woody rips open the envelope. "'Kasumi's Dark Lessons' by Osr secret!" Muted voices rumble through the audience as a familiar figure in a kitchen apron strolls out onto the stage. "It's Kasumi! You don't suppose..." "What?" "...the one from *that* story?" Kasumi's eyes survey the stage. "It seems the author of this fanfic refuses to join me in accepting this award. That's very bad. Very bad indeed. Someone who writes something really ought to take credit for it." "You mean like the writer of this sketch here?" a heckler yells. Someone else in the audience immediately shushes him. "'Osr secret' indeed." Kasumi shakes her head slowly. "As if Oscar hasn't enough sins of his own without being blamed for a story he had nothing to do with." A smile, at once both motherly and sadistic, crept onto her face. "I think the author of this story needs...a lesson." The audience momentarily murmurs in confusion. "Yeah!" someone shouts. "Lesson!" another audience member echoes. "Get the Chickenball staff too!" a third says, and several nervous gulps are heard from behind the curtain. The audience begins chanting: "Les-sons! Les-sons!" Abruptly, an older gentleman steps up to the stage. "G'devenin', ma'am," he says to Kasumi. "Murdoch's the name. Rupert Murdoch, head of News Corporaytion, Inc." She folds her arms across her chest. "You're not the author of this fanfic." "No, ma'am. Actually, I'm here on behalf of my television network." "Your network is the author of this fanfic?" Murdoch chuckles slightly. "Ma'am, I'm here to mayke you an offer. How would you like to be on your very own TV show?" "Goodness! Do you really think people would watch me on television?" "You kidding? 'Kasumi's Dark Lessons' is exactly what my viewers want to see. I usually stay awaiy from all of this Japanese stuff myself. I mean, I'm told that you people worship the commie, of all things. I dunno which one. Mao, probably. He's the yellah one. But anyway, as soon as I saw your fanfic, I knew it was pairfect." She puts a hand to her lip. "Oh my!" "Every week, you'll have a guest, probably some politician or something. He comes in to give his usual spiel, and you give him...lessons. People don't want to hear all of this li-bull-rul facts-and-reasons rubbish. They just want to be told who to hate! This is what current affayers programming ought to be!" Kasumi pauses for a moment. "All right," she says. "I'll accept your offer. But on one condition." "What's that?" "I want to choose the guests myself." Murdoch frowns as he considers this. "Okay, I guess I can live with that. I'll personally guarantee that you can have anybody you want on your show. Spoils a little of *my* fun, though." "Oh, I'm sure this will be a lot of fun for you." Smiling, she locks her arm in his and begins to escort him off the stage as though he were her date for the senior prom. "And who knows? You might even learn something." The announcer's voice is soon heard again. "Here to present the nominees for Best Lemon Fanfiction, please welcome the stars of the new anime sensation, Hentai Anime Excel Saga..." "pssslppssk hnshssp mspps..." "What? Oh, sorry, Heppoko Anime Excel Saga - pity that, it would have been so much more appropriate - Excel and Hyatt!" Excel and Hyatt walk on stage from opposite wings to loud cheers and applause that quickly dissolve to dead silence as the audience become aware of what the two Across members are wearing... or rather, NOT wearing. Both of them are absolutely buck naked, and from all appearances, not particularly concerned about it. Well, okay, Excel is shooting glances at Hyatt that can be described as either envious (when she's looking at her chest) or worry (when she's looking further south). Any debate on Excel's real hair color (auburn or blonde?) will have to wait, by the way, because... "Ha-chan..." "Sempai? *koff-koff*" "ah... you forgot to shave down there..." "No, I didn't." Hyatt points down at herself, and the camera zooms in to show that she's shaved her hair into a perfect heart shape. It's a sufficiently inspiring sight that at least one fellow leaps to his feet and charges the stage. "Ayasugi-san, I love you!" It's Watanabe. He grabs her in a bear hug, causing her to cough up a huge gout of blood over him and collapse. Covered as he is in her blood, he lets go of her, and retreats to his seat. His return is *not* well received by those seated near him. *** In the green room, there is the sizzle of a portable grill, and the pungent scents of ginger and garlic. Several of the presenters are sitting around, munching away on okonomi-yaki that Ukyou, still clad in her traditional uniform, is serving up here. All at once, Konatsu bursts in. "Ukyou-sama, we've got trouble!" "Trouble? Whaddya mean?" "You know those guest hosts you got to fill in for you once you took over the catering here in the green room...?" "Yeah, what about 'em?" "Uh... I really think you should see this." The kunoichi switches the television in the corner of the room to pick up the closed-circuit feed of the awards ceremony. Ukyou's jaw drops as she gapes at the two nude Excel girls. "Those friggin' *idiots*!" She slams her spatula down on the grill for emphasis, flattening a seafood special to paper thin-ness *** Meanwhile, Excel is dragging the comatose Hyatt over to the plexiglas podium (which, needless to say, covers *nothing*), and drapes her over it until she recovers. "Argg, Ha-chan, this is really embarrassing, and not just because we have to be naked, which is kinda embarrassing in and of itself - or should I say em-bare-assing? - but the fact that you have to go and die onstage, which I know is your main shtick, but for crying out loud, you're not supposed to die until the jokes do, assuming they do, which may or may not be likely, considering how everyone tells me how funny I am, and WHY THE HELL are you still all muffy down there?! The censors are gonna cut you out of the shot if you've got hair there!" Hyatt raises her head weakly, and Excel snatches the envelope away as a residual trickle of blood drips from the corner of Hyatt's mouth onto the podium where the envelope had been. "What censors, sempai? You saw it, right?" "Well.. yeah..." "And you saw it, didn't you?" she asks the audience, who respond with a smattering of applause that slowly builds to a rather sound ovation, until some of those clapping get smacked down by their dates (those without dates continue to applaud until they become aware of threatening glares from nearby females). Hyatt turns back to Excel as she lifts herself to a standing position with the podium's support. "See? Nobody missed anything. Still, *koff*koff* why did we have to be naked, again?" "Well, Ha-chan, if we're gonna do a lemon scene, at least that's what I was told that we were supposed to be doing, it helps if we have access to each others' naughty bits, but why on earth did she put us together instead of me and Il Palazzo-sama? Not that you're not pretty and all, Ha-chan, don't get me wrong, but I really don't think I swing that way, and you'd think when there's a woman writing lemon material, if she's gonna put two people of the same sex together - and I mean *together*, ya know, 'cause it's a lemon and all that - she usually put two *guys* together, and have someone up here like from Gundam Wing or Weiss Kreuz or Utena or... and then we wouldn't be up here at all, so on second thought, a little yuri is hella better than being unemployed, 'cause one's gotta eat, even if it is only a fur pie, and -" A voice from the wings actually cuts her off. "Hold it right there!" Ukyou, still in restaurant gear, stalks on-stage, steam rising from her ears. "WHAT the hell are you two doing out here, dressed up like you're auditioning for a doujinshi?" "You said we were doing a lemon scene *koff*" "I *said* you were doing a presentation for Best Lemon. You didn't have to... oh, just get off, you two..." This does not have the desired effect on Excel and Hyatt, who blink momentarily at Ukyou's order, and then promptly turn and embrace each other. The camera zooms in on the traditional trickle of saliva connecting their tongues, then works its way down the two bodies, as delicate hands gently caress and inch their ways to the respective Promised Lands. They make contact with each others' front at about the same time, and the camera zooms back as the two girls' knees buckle and they collapse to the stage floor, both moaning in pleasure. Ukyou brings a hand over her eyes, sighing heavily in frustration as the two ACROSS girls go at it. The jumbotron screen upstage adds the legend on the bottom: "Today's experiment..... failed." "I'm really sorry y'all had to see that." "*We're* not!" Ukyou glowers in the direction of the catcall, before turning offstage and whistling sharply. Out bounds Menchi, the emergency meat supply dog, carrying a railgun easily twice, maybe three times her size. The okonomi-yaki chef looks out over a sea of stunned faces. "Awright... who's gonna be next?" In the ensuing silence, the only sounds are that of Excel and Hyatt's moans of pleasure. Ukyou shuts her eyes, and inhales deeply before continuing. "You know, I really don't consider myself the best for this job of handing out awards for fanfiction, especially lemon fanfiction. Sure, I've written a couple of lemons, but as a rule, they've...." She bites her lip, grimacing at some unpleasant memory. "They've generally left a bad taste in my mouth. Literally. "Not only that, but I haven't contributed much to the fanfic community this past year - I guess I should be glad y'all even remember me. Between parenthood and married life, I've just been too friggin' busy, and vice versa, respectively." She pauses to consider this. "Okay, maybe I AM qualified, due to all the field research I've done. "Anyway, the nominees for Best Lemon Fanfiction are as follows: "'Ah! My Hentai' by Stefan 'Twoflower' Gagne Author E-mail: Fic is at http://pixelscapes.com/amh/amh.html "'I'll Be Your Fiancee!' by Cabbit Blue Author E-mail: Fic is at http://setsuna.anifics.com/cabbitblue/index.html "'Ranma the Amorous Oversexed Nympho' by WFROSE Author E-mail: Fic is at http://miniarchive.dyndns.org:8080/cgi-bin/MiniArchive?Page=Search&SearchFor=amo rous&SearchBy=Title "'Sosei' by Siaru Author E-mail: Fic is at http://fanfic.tass-anime.com/Lemon/ranma.lemon.sosei "And the winner is... uh..." Ukyou flinches as she picks up the envelope; a corner of it, despite Excel's best efforts (such as *they* are), is dyed red, and dripping blood. "Just lovely... I swear, I can't get rid of this fast enough..." She finally manages to rip it open, and pull out the (thankfully clean) card with the winner's name on it, who is... "Hey, whaddya know; it's Cabbit Blue, for 'I'll Be Your Fiancee'! C'mon up here, sugar!" The announcer's voice booms over the speakers. "Accepting the award for Cabbit Blue, are the stars of 'Skies of Arcadia': Vyse, Aika, and Fina!" The audience applauds as Vyse swaggers his way on stage, dressed in a black tux and sporting a huge grin on his face. Behind him walks Fina, dressed in a lovely silver evening gown, and Aika, who had chosen to wear her usual ensemble rather than waste any treasure on a dress she would likely not wear again. As the girls stand on either side of Vyse, he quickly wraps an arm around both girls' waists and smirks at the camera. "Eat your heart out, Tidus! I got TWO women at the end!" Vyse proclaims happily. "Oh dear, I knew letting Vyse go on vacation with Gilder for two weeks was a bad idea...." "Yeah, now he's a total lech! Oh well, at least we got to see the... move your hand one inch lower, buster, and you'll lose it," Aika snarls as Vyse immediately moves his hand back up to her waist. "Anyway, we accept this award on Cabbit Blue's behalf and we'd like to thank the Academy for their interest...." "Speaking of which, can I interest you two ladies in a massage later? Gilder taught me some *special* shiatsu points I'm sure you'll find of interest...." "I'd rather be massaged by the Overfiend... er, no offense, Woody!" Akia quickly adds as she glances backstage. "Aw, come on, tell me THIS doesn't feel goo....Whoomph!" Vyse suddenly finds his lungs devoid of air as Aika buries a well-placed elbow in his stomach before storming off-stage with the award. As Vyse doubles over in pain, Fina briefly considers helping him, then thinks better of it and quickly follows Aika. As Vyse manages to stagger off stage, the announcer's voice is heard again. "And now, presenting the award for Best Non-Canon Pairing in a Fanfic, here are Gary Kleppe, Hiroshi, and Daisuke!" The audience breaks into applause as the trio walks on stage and approaches the podium. "I'm Gary, and these are my, er, sidekicks of sorts: Hiroshi and Daisuke." "Yes, and we're here to present the award for the best romance involving the character Sister Angela from One-Pound Gospel..." "No, Daisuke, y'idjit. It's for a couple who were brought together without the use of heavy projectile weapons. Nice if you can manage it." Gary clears his throat. "Very funny, guys. As we all know, this award is for the best story using a match-up different from its original series." "Like Kuno and Azusa," Hiroshi says. "Yuka and Herb. Daisuke and...anybody." He ignores his partner's dirty look. "As it happens, the two of us are working on an Ukyo and Ranma match." "You are?" Daisuke points upward. "Watch this clip." @@@ "I still want you... even if you're a *pig!*" A sob escaped through Ryoga's clenched teeth as his face squeezed into an expression of frustration. This girl knew about his curse, and yet still *loved* him! He could see Ukyo, watching from the back of the small rowboat. If he didn't push this "fiancee" away, sweet Ukyo would never know how he felt about her. Yet if he did, how could he ever hope to find another girl who would... who would... He sobbed again. Heh, Ranma thought. All he'd had to do was put on a dress, a pair of glasses, and a hat with a half--wig, and Ryoga was completely bamboozled. What a dope. He leaned in closer, and a gigantic whoosh of air made him glance left, not a second too soon. "How many times do you have to get in the way, girl?" Akane's giant spatula whipped through the air, barely missing her target's head as the new fiancee ducked out of the way with incredible speed. Damn it, the black-clad okonomiyaki chef thought, some people just didn't know when to give up. But she was going to help Ryoga get together with Ukyo, and that was all there was to it! Ranma squeezed his hand around Ryoga's fist. "You're the only one for me!" "Are you sure you're sure?" Ryoga said. Ryoga's eyes bulged as he looked up. His "fiancee's hat" now dangled from the edge of the giant spatula; hair protruded from it, obviously a wig. And where the hat and wig had covered.... "I think you should run, Ranma." A single bead of sweat dripped from Ukyo's short hair, blotching onto her breezy sundress. "What?" the pig-tailed youth said with feigned innocence. "Who's Ranma?" @@@ "It's an alternate universe, in which Ukyo grew up with the Tendos," Hiroshi says as the clip fades. "Meanwhile, Akane is an okonomiyaki chef, embittered because Ranma and his father left her behind so many years ago. The two of them were switched at birth, and through a magical effect, all of their genetic information was exchanged as well." "Ummm." Gary stares blankly for a moment, then shakes his head briefly. "Anyhow. A big challenge with non-canon fics is to stay believable and true to the characters. If your Ranma/Nabiki story doesn't have its characters acting like Takahashi's characters would, then you've defeated your own purposes; you haven't matched Ranma and Nabiki, only two characters who happen to share their names. Another problem the writers of these stories have to overcome is their own desire to see their favorite couple succeed. Often they remove all significant obstacles to the relationship, and the story's interest factor goes out right with it because it's a foregone conclusion." "Of course, there's no shortage of canon-relationship fics with these problems," Daisuke adds. "True enough. The price of good fanfiction is eternal vigilance, I guess." "Yeah. That's kinda why Hiroshi and I write bad fanfiction." Gary rolls his eyes. "Anyway, the nominees for Best Fanfic featuring a Non-Canon couple are...." "'A Duet of Pigtails' by Libby Thomas; Ranma/Hikaru pairing Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.mitsukai.com/Duet/Duet.htm "'Again We Meet' by Brian Randall; Ranma/Ukyou pairing Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/durandall/oneshot/againwemeet.html "'Fragments' by Linda Shen; Ranma/Yuki Tanakawa pairing Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.ling.0catch.com/archive/ranma/fragmentspt1.txt http://www.ling.0catch.com/archive/ranma/fragmentspt2.txt "'Ranma and the Heart of the Phoenix' by Vince Seifert; Ranma/Kiima pairing Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.csus.edu/indiv/s/seifertv/toth/amaw-rhp.txt "And the winner is...." Gary opens the envelope. "A Duet of Pigtails' by Libby Thomas!" "Accepting the award for Libby Thomas is Rob Barba!" the announcer's voice booms as Rob Barba makes his way on stage. "Well, I'd like to thank the Academy, the esteemed guests and judges, the steamed clams and dim sum, and did I forget to mention the full buffet we have in the back of the room? I didn't? Well, these sort of things happen, don't they? "Well, as the co-creator of the Duet series and the current author, I'd like to accept this award with thanks. No doubt Libby, were she here, would thank you as well, if she hadn't moved on to the big author's pit in the sky. "...No, she's not dead, she just moved to Denver. What were you people thinking? "When Libby and I created Duet, we set out to make one of the greatest romances ever, as well as a poignant and involving war story. Well, that was my plan, at any rate. Under her hands, however, the story became something more, something that I can't tell you about because that would blow the grand scheme of things. Really. As one could expect, her sudden retirement was the stuff of legends...well, either that or the National Enquirer, take your pick. "But I must say with all sincerity, that writing Duet and having you all enjoy it has been an immense honor, one that I cannot adequately express. The loyalty and love that Duet brings in the hearts and minds is both a joy and a pain; a joy because it shows how much you care for the characters and how Libby and I have brought them to life; a pain because if we'd thought of this long before Rumiko or the CLAMPettes ever did, I'd have made a small fortune on royalties and merchandizing by now. "But in closing, since I seem to be putting the lot of you to sleep, on behalf of Libby and myself, I thank you for this award and hope to see you all soon on the Duet site." As Rob leaves the stage, the curtains abruptly close around it. The audience murmurs in confusion as numerous noises of construction are heard going on behind it. Suddenly the sounds stop. A minute later the curtain opens to reveal a lush, heavily vined tropical landscape complete with the audio components one would expect from a rain forest. The only thing that seems out of place is the chickenball awards podium and microphone at the center. "Greetings!" a voice booms out from the stage. No one can tell where it comes from at all. "I'm Fido and I'm here to present the award for the Best Romance fic." A bush rustles on one side of the stage. "I bet you all are wondering about the setting? Well I bet a friend that I could do this without being seen." Another bush on the opposite end moves slightly. "And what better way than to get lost in a tropical jungle! Right, Ranma?" "SHHHH! Ya want them ta find me?!" another voice calls out. "There Ranma!" Shampoo calls out as she, followed by the three Tendo sisters, walks on stage towards the second rustling bush. The four march over, reach into the foliage and drag out a kicking, screaming, and female Ranma. "No! I ain't doing it!" "Aw come on, Ranma! We need a fifth for this to work!" Nabiki says. "No!" "Please, Ranma," Kasumi pleads. "We want it so badly!" "No!" "Oh, quit being such a baby! You enjoyed it the last time!" Akane finally says, then picks up Ranma and tosses him over her shoulder. "And you'll have just as much fun this time too!" "Husband no complain once we done!" adds Shampoo as they turn to leave. "Noooo! Let me go! Help! Help! I don't want to be the fifth Spice Girl! I don't!" Everyone watches as the four girls carry a struggling Ranma-chan offstage as Fido decides to move things along. "Anyway, the nominees for the Best Romantic Fanfic category are: "'Fragments' by Linda Shen Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.ling.0catch.com/archive/ranma/fragmentspt1.txt http://www.ling.0catch.com/archive/ranma/fragmentspt2.txt "'Saido' by Brian Randall Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/durandall/missfortune/saido.html "'Travels, Training and Trials' by June 'KaraOhki' Geraci Author E-mail: Fic is at http://karaohki.anifics.com/ttt.htm" As the applause settles down, Fido continues. "I just want to say that all of these fics are deserving of their nominations and if you have never read them, you really should give them a shot." A third bush moves slightly. "And now, the winner is ... 'Travels, Training and Trials' by June (KaraOhki) Geraci!" Suddenly the podium stands up on two legs and starts jumping around the stage. "Kara won! She won! She won! She...." The dancing dais stops then turns to the audience and seems to slump down. "Well, guess I blew that bet...." A rustling sound is heard to the side of the stage, and some of the foliage begins to quiver. A small white cabbit with brown spots struggles out of the greenery. She has a bunch of papers in her mouth, which keep getting caught on the underbrush, causing her to drop them. She growls in frustration and tries to pick them up, but is unsuccessful. She growls once more, shrugs, and transforms. In place of the cabbit is a short woman with long curly black hair, liberally streaked with silver. Wire-rimmed glasses are perched on her nose. The only evidence that this was once a cabbit is the carrot-shaped brooch made of orange rhinestones that is pinned to the bodice of her floor-length sapphire-blue velvet dress. "I could have sworn there was a podium here a minute ago," she murmurs. "Oh! At least there's a mike." She reaches down and pulls a microphone out of the leaves, and holds up her speech in her other hand. "I'm very pleased," she begins to read, "to ac-" The woman holds the papers up and sighs. Her speech is full of tooth marks. "Oh, to heck with it!" she exclaims, and tosses the prepared speech over her shoulder. "As I was saying, I'm really pleased to accept this award. My thanks to everyone who read TTT and liked it enough to nominate it for a Chickenball Award. I promise you, I may be a terribly slow writer, but 'Travels, Training and Trials' has been plotted all the way to the end, and it will be completed. With that in mind, perhaps I should go work on it!" The woman pauses, and looks around. "I can't do that, however, without taking a moment to see my friend David, who is also my writing partner on another story, 'A Kiss to the Victor'." She looks around again, appearing confused. "Fido? Partner? Would you come out?" A disembodied voice replies, "no." "Why not?" "I'm trying not to be seen. I screwed it up before, and this time I'm gonna do it right!" The woman smiles. "Aw, come on, partner. I won't do to you what the girls did to poor Ranma. I promise!" "Promise?" "Yes!" The bushes part, and a podium approaches Kara. She grins wickedly, grabs him, and his disguise falls off. "Gotcha!" she cries. Then she drags him down for a huge smooch. She's rather shocked when he turns beet red, mumbles something no one can understand, and dashes offstage. "Hey, wait up!" Kara runs after Fido, leaving the jungle once again quite empty. Moments later, the announcer is heard again. "Presenting the Best New Character Award is...Steve 'The Nightman' Cornett and Ran." The duo walk on stage and approach the podium. "Thank you all," Steven announces to the cheering (well, mostly cheering) audience. "I know it's been a very long time since our worst new character presentation, and there are those in the audience that remember that." "Yeah! Sure wish we could forget it, too!" shouts one of two formally attired old men from the balcony seats they held for all performances. "Sure thing, Statler. I just wish it was longer!" the other old man chimes in. "Good one, Waldorf. Hohohohoh..." "Of course," Ran pouts, attempting to soothe possible ruffled feathers. "That was two years ago, and besides, all award winners are selected on the basis of the fan vote." "Yeah, what do fanboys know anyway?" Waldorf shouts. "Certainly not bathing," Statler adds. "Of course, we did such a bang-up job last time..." "That they've kicked us upstairs, so to speak." "New evidence of the Peter Principle, eh, Waldorf," Statler interrupts. "Yep! Sure looks like they've hit their level of incompetence!" Waldorf replies before both chuckle at their own humor. Ran fumes, her hair starting to float about as if ruffled by a hot wind that certainly didn't come from the house air conditioner. "You mean like your own gags?" Statler snipes. "Calm down," Steven whispers to Ran, "Let's get this done, then you can deal with those two." After a moment, Ran calms down and her hair quickly returns to place. "Yes, indeed. This year, we're presenting an honor that's...well...really an honor. Namely, this year's Chickenball award for Best New Character." "This award," Steven continues, "celebrates those authors that create new characters for their stories that don't annoy people." "You sure about that?" Statler heckles. "Unlike *some* people," Steven replies. "New characters that don't annoy people? That *is* a twist, isn't it?" Waldorf replies. "Indeed. More to the point, these are the original characters that actually fit in the stories they appear in and contribute in such a meaningful way as to be remembered by the reader. This year, the characters range from supporting characters such as Yuki Tanakawa to self-inserting lead characters such as Carrot. And the nominees are:" "Carrot, from the fanfic 'Insertion,'" Steven begins, "by Ryouga P. Hibiki. Author E-mail: Fic is at http://fanfic.tass-anime.com/ranma.insertion" "That's odd," Ran interjects. "Isn't he one of the nominations for Worst New Character?" "Yes he is. All of the Worst New Character nominees are from Ryouga's 'Insertion.'" "Jaddo, from 'Path of the Warrior' by DB Sommer. Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/d_b_sommer/" "Paul Durant, 'Process of Elimination' by Brian Randall," Steven continues. Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/durandall/index.html" "And finally," Ran concludes, "Yuki Tanakawa a.k.a. Kimiko Yoshida, from the story 'Fragments' by Linda Shen. Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.ling.0catch.com/archive/ranma/fragmentspt1.txt http://www.ling.0catch.com/archive/ranma/fragmentspt2.txt" Excitement mounts among the audience as Ran takes the envelope revealing the winner and opens it. "And the winner is... Paul Durant from 'Process of Elimination' by Brian Randall." Brian marches onto the stage, grinning, and dragging a worried-looking man in a suit along with him. Once he's behind the podium, Brian cheerfully whips out a pair of handcuffs, and secures the newcomer to a metal rail that appears to be part of the sound system. "There's a new one for you! They have to arrest their winners and chain them to the stage!" Waldorf chuckles. "Uh...Brian," Ran whispers, "Is there a reason you handcuffed your friend to the podium? This is an award show, not Criminal Court." "He wants to be Unseen," Brian replies. Ran glances in confusion at him, then looks at Steven, who shrugs. "If I was associated with this Chickenball operation, I sure wouldn't want to be seen either," Waldorf chimes in. "Wouldn't want to hear of it either," Statler adds, verbally tag-teaming the other old man's heckle. "Would you geezers pipe down?!" Steven finally yells. "You'll make Ran angry, and we just paid for the last balcony she blew out!" "Hello!" he says, nodding. "I'm here to accept the award for best new character, along with Paul Durant himself." "What balcony?" Paul whispers. "Well, uh...the one that," Steven stammers. Seeing Durant look more nervous than simply being handcuffed to a podium could make him, he waves the subject off. "Don't worry about it. Just keep going." The man behind the podium winces, and glances around furtively. "I'm honored and all, but, I really _really_ shouldn't be here. Where I can be found." "...Or seen! Heheheheheh..." the old men chuckle. Brian smirks, and addresses the crowd, "Paul Durant, the original character, was based on this man, my good friend." A loud thump echoes across the zamboni-hole-ridden stage, and Durant cringes noticeably. "Paul Durant. With his help, I was able to create a character that--" "...Shows you can't make up an original character of your own?" Waldorf cuts in. "Yeah, he has to clone his friend," Statler guffaws, bringing the point home. They both cackle loudly for several seconds, enjoying their ad-libs while Ran fumes and Steven wishes he were doing something more enjoyable like Worst New Character or Best Lemon ('lemons...') A low growl emanates from stage right, and Durant spastically seizes the podium, microphone and all, cutting Brian off. The man runs full tilt towards a large zamboni-hole, and jumps straight in. Brian blinks, until someone throws a microphone at him from off stage. Ran shrugs, then gives Brian the Chickenball for Best New Character. "I hope you'll remember this always. On behalf of fanfiction readers everywhere, please accept this token of thanks on a job well done." "Um. So much for that. More seriously, while I'm honored for this award, it belongs to him equally -- for without his input, Durant would have been a very different character." Brian pauses for a moment, then adds, "I'd also like to say that I'm honestly shocked that we won, considering we were up against... well, Linda Shen, who I thought would win by a landslide." Sighing, he bows again, and begins to walk off the stage before tripping over a microphone cord, and falling into a zamboni-hole. "Well, that was...interesting," Steven concludes. "And destructive..." Waldorf chimes in, not wanting to let the presenters have the last word. "Guess he didn't want to be seen after all," Statler adds. Steven and Ran let out a collective sigh, then exit down the zamboni-sized hole their winner fell in. While most of the audience are still applauding for the Best New Character winner, a young man enters the stage. As he nears the podium, staying always in the spotlight, various details become visible. His clothes are recognizable as a Nergal uniform from Nadesico and he appears to be carrying a Knight Saber helmet under one arm. He takes his place at the podium and the spotlight swirls dramatically, highlighting two lime-green objects in his hair. "This year was a rather strange year for the Worst New Character awards. We had three nominees, and they were all the same person: Carrot, Pissant, and Tsuki, from Insertion by Sean D'Anna. "Now, was obvious to me that one of them would have to win. Therefore, even though I'd never read Insertion, I would have to write a presentation about it." He shudders. "I had two options: I could read the fic, hoping against hope to maintain my sanity, or I could do a SI of my own and get someone else to write the presentation for me." In the murky depths of the audience, someone coughs a few times. "Bravely, I chose the second option. I figured I'd look for anime universes with supercomputers, since only they could read the entire fic in enough time to write a presentation. My first stop was the battleship Nadesico." He grips the podium tightly and the closer audience members can see the tattoo-like markings of the Image Feedback System on his hand. "I added myself as a new crew member and set about getting access to Omoikane. I think that's the only time a computer has ever stuck its tongue out at me." He sighs, continuing. "After that, I wanted something a little more 'restrained', so I headed for Tokyo-3. I programmed the insertion device for a world where the eleventh angel had left the three supercomputers operating as one, but forgot to reset the 'crew' setting. I never got a chance to talk to the MAGI, since I emerged in the middle of a battle, sitting in an EVA." He drones on about his noble sacrifice to keep the actual characters alive, unaware of the audience's growing impatience. After several minutes, he notices two people sleeping. He pulls the EVA receptors off his head and throws them at the culprits. "So then I died, found myself back here, and headed out again. In retrospect, I should probably have asked before using Washuu's computers, but I did get something out of the deal." He holds up a gold-plated carrot, with a bite taken out of it. "Mihoshi suggested that I just tell my story -- after all, it worked for her." There is a prolonged pause, punctuated only by some heated arguing backstage. "So here I am." He reaches down into the Saber helmet and pulls out an envelope. Opening it, giving himself a nasty paper cut along the way, he pulls out a sheet of paper. "And the winner is Pissant!" He places the carrot down on the podium, picks up the helmet, and rushes off the stage, grumbling something about stupid insertion-machine manufacturers. "Accepting the award for Pissant is his author, Carrot!" the announcer's voice booms over the PA as Carrot hops on stage and approaches the podium. "I'd like to thank everyone for being so easily annoyed. I never thought I'd be able to get on so many people's nerves at one time! Thank you for this opportunity! Seeing as there wasn't really any way for me to lose this, I'd like to thank you for not picking the murderous bastard Carrot as the worst offender. Even if he is a completely evil bastard with little or no redeeming qualities, it would have been quite the blow to my ego. In closing, I'd like to say that it's somewhat of a relief that you picked Pissant. He was actually designed to be annoying. Come to think of it, they all were really. That was kind of the point of this one. Ah well... " Carrot shrugs and leaves the stage. The camera abruptly cuts to Megane's office/boiler room as Megane dons his old tuxedo and bow tie for an upcoming presentation. Suddenly, a tall man with unkempt hair and a dirty lumberjack shirt swats open the door, walks in and sits down in the plastic folding chair, staring at the Chickenball director while grinning like a madman. After ignoring him for about a minute while struggling with his bowtie, Megane sighs and asks, "What do you want NOW, Unseen?" "Nothing at all," the unkempt man replies. "I just wanted to let you know that my award ceremony's going on right... _now_. It's sure to be the hit of the show. Yeah, people love me." Unimpressed, Megane shoots back, "Oh, the ceremony you never ran past me for approval? The one you never filed a pricing form for? Yeah, I was wondering about that... And what on EARTH is that horrible grinding noise?" There is indeed an audible grinding sound, and the unkempt man turns his head toward the west wall of the office (for this is the direction of the stage), and after a few seconds of intent study, turns back toward the Chickenball director and confidently replies, "Zambonis." Megane lifts one eyebrow quizzically, a trick he learned from his uncle. "And why, may I ask, do I hear zambonis when there isn't a sheet of ice for eight city blocks?" "Well..." the unkempt man responds, in the manner of a child rationalizing his misdeeds, "you know how important it is for us to get new writers, right?" Not bothering for a response, he continues. "They help us avoid stagnation and introduce new, unheard-of ideas into the collective unconscious, right?" "Right... And how does this involve zambonis, again?" "So, I figure," the unkempt man continues as if never interrupted, "that the award ceremony for 'Best New Author' should be a real extravaganza, to reward those who made the best of first impression, while paving the way for those yet to come, right?" "Uh huh... Can we just skip to the part that explains why that horrible zamboni-grind is getting louder by the second?" "So, I really went all-out for this one. I went and got pyrotechnics, elephants that balance on little balls, those dancers that go like 'Dah dah DAH-da dah dah DAH-da DAH-da'," he says as he imitates a line dancer's kick from his chair, "and best of all, I hired a team of motorcyclists to ride around the stage and put on a stunt show. It's really cool, you should see them some--" Megane cuts the unkempt man off, by this point very aggravated by both his evasiveness and the horrible grinding noise that by now seemed to be emanating from the back of his skull, and curtly snaps, "At no point did you mention zambonis in that little speech. One last time: Why are there zambonis on that stage?" "Well, see." The unkempt man ruffles the hair on the back of his head while chuckling nervously. "Funny story.... See, as it turns out, after I put down the down payment on the stunt-team, the motorcycle lot was... kinda... y'know..." He exhales the rest in one sharp breath. "...sacked by neo-Vikings." Megane shoots the man a look of disbelief. "Vikings." "Technically, Neo-Vikings, uh, sir." Megane throws his hands in the air. "Fabulous. Could we get to the part about the zambonis now?" "Well, it was such short notice, I couldn't book another stunt-team. But don't worry, I improvised! With the help of the Jusenkyo Guide -- who required a rather exorbitant fee for his services, I'm afraid -- the 'Detergent Scientists' of GENOM, and the maintenance staff of the local ice-skating rink, I was able to whip up some Spring of Drowned Zamboni water, which I then dunked onto some stage hands who were MORE than happy to help out in the ceremony. So we're cool, we're cool." Megane only glares at the man. "Don't worry, don't worry!" the man hastily adds while pushing his palms outward, "We got some Spring of Drowned Stage Hand water for after they're done." Under his breath, he mutters, "The families are suing, of course..." Megane's eye begins to twitch. He rises, very slowly and in a very controlled manner, from his desk, leans forward, and begins to speak to the unkempt man from about six inches away. "If you could whip up some Spring of drowned Zamboni water," he evenly intones, "why didn't you just make some Spring of drowned MOTORCYCLE water and save me this splitting headache!?" The unkempt man merely rolls his eyes. "Duh, you can't drown a motorcycle. It's an inanimate object!" At this point, any reply Megane may have been formulating is cut off by a ear-shatteringly loud "CRASH!". "Okay, now what was THAT?" Megane asks, half-panicked. "Thaaat would be the sound of a zamboni crashing through the wooden stage and the three floors below us, then half-embedding itself into the stone foundation of the building." "I'm almost hesitant to ask, but what's that awful 'Chugga-Chugga-Chugga' noise that just started?" "That would be the sound of a zamboni attempting to burrow to the center of the Earth using its ice-cleaning instruments." "Okay, I've had enough of this travesty. Get out there and present the nominees so I can forget this ever happened." "Are you crazy? I'm not going out there, magma could shoot out of the stage any minute!" Megane sighs. "Just read the list already." "Alrighty then... the nominees for the Best New Author category are: "Bjorn Christianson Author E-mail: Fics are at http://www.its.caltech.edu/~bjorn/fanfic/ "Brian Randall Author E-mail: Fics are at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/durandall/index.html "Siaru Author E-mail: Fics are at http://www.sofaspud.org "TheGrum Author E-mail: Fics are at http://grum.anifics.com/master.html "And the winner is... Brian Randall!" Brian walks onto the stage again, attended by Rouge from Legend of the Last Labyrinth, and Mutsumi Otohime. Nervously standing behind the podium after circumnavigating a number of curiously zamboni-shaped holes, he coughs, and weakly jokes, "What are the odds of meeting you all here again? Heh... ah... right. Um." Rouge rolls her eyes, and says, "What Brian wants to say, despite his difficulty, is that he's grateful that you think he's a good enough author to accept this award. And we're happy that he got it, too; it means he's finally getting better at showing all of _you_ what Mutsumi and I try to show _him_." Brian mutters, "Slave driver," quietly, but not quite quietly enough, and the microphone carries the sound. Mutsumi blinks, and picks up in the silence, as Rouge raises an eyebrow and regards Brian coolly. "I think that what Rouge-hime and I show Brian is wonderful, beautiful stuff -- and if you think it's good, then he's doing it right! He does his best, but we all know there's still more to do before he's done." She smiles winningly, and then looks at Brian. "Brian-kun, is there anything you'd like to say?" "Yes, actually," he confesses, smiling guiltily. "First off, even though I'm lucky enough to have great muses... er... musea? Um, besides all of that, I'm very lucky to have won this award. "Siaru is a much better writer than I am, I think. And, unlike me, he started out writing very well. I guess I've improved more than him, but then, I started out pretty bad and I'm not nearly his level of skill yet. Bjorn Christianson and the Grum are also brilliant authors. "I'm quite confident that if they had written more, that this award would be going to one of them, not me. "And for that, and the fact that I was chosen to win, I am grateful beyond words." Brian bows deeply to the audience, followed a moment later by Mutsumi and Rouge before they march off the stage, Rouge taking the award from the podium. As the latest round of applause dies down, CB stage hands quickly hustle on stage to clean up, repair the stage and prepare for the next sketch as Megane 6.7 and Nightman stand backstage calmly awaiting their cue. Just then, a stage hand approaches them. "Okay, guys, you're on in thirty seconds. Oh, by the way, the TelePrompTer has been acting screwy all night so I'm here to tell you what I've told all the other presenters before they went onstage... if in doubt, improvise!" "S-Say what!?" Megane exclaims as sweat simultaneously forms on his brow. "But this is one of the most important awards of the night!" "Well, that's no problem. You've read all the fanfics nominated, right?" Nightman inquires. "Huh? Oh, uh, yeah! Of course! B-But it's always better to have a safety net in case of stage fright... right?" Megane replies nervously. "Funny, I don't remember you having stage fright during past awards...." Nightman frowns as the announcer's voice suddenly comes to life. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, here to present the 'Hall of Fame' inductees for the 2002 Chicken Ball Awards, Nightman and Megane 6.7! Yayyyyy!" "Lord help me...." Megane mutters as he and Nightman walk onstage to applause. As they approach the podium, Megane catches sight of the TelePrompTer and much to his relief, it appears to be functioning. Taking a deep breath, Megane smiles and begins his presentation. "Fellow authors... it is a true pleasure to once again honor those special fanfics that have provided us with laughter and tears, anger and fear, questions and challenges... these fanfics stand as a tribute to the human imagination and what it can accomplish when attempting to expand a universe far beyond its original boundaries." "Sometimes *very* far beyond," Nightman adds. "So let's name this year's inductees to the Hall of Fame." "Our first inductee into the 2002 Chicken Ball Hall of Fame is... uh..." Megane blankly stares at the TelePrompTer as the image begins flipping. Taking a moment to clear his suddenly dry throat, he squints to read the words as the speed of the flipping increases. "Our... first inductee... is...UY: The Senior... Yeast?" Megane blushes as the audience suddenly bursts into laughter. "I guess that explains its fast rise to notoriety! Oh ho ho ho ho ho!" two familiar voices shout down from a familiar balcony. "Wasn't one extended cameo enough for those guys?" Nightman mutters as Megane attempts to continue. "Uh, sorry about that, folks. We're having a little trouble with the TelePrompTer tonight... *A-Ahem*, as I was saying, the first inductee is UY: The Senior YEAR by Fred Herriot and Mike Smith. Take it away, guys!" *** "And to think I only wanted to do ONE fan fic story about 'Urusei Yatsura'! "When Fred and I began this series, we didn't think it would be as influential as it has been on other writers. Both of us are deeply touched by this award and hope it's the start of even greater things both individually and as a team as writers. "I see this award as payback for the years Fred and I spent to get this series together. For the late nights discussing how stories would go, what paths characters would take, and revising them constantly...plus having time to live our lives. It also is payback for the bad times which occurred when we were writing...and also the triumphs that occurred when we found out that what we had was truly special. "What can I say? It's been a great ride, fellow otaku! And the ride continues! There will be sequels to 'Urusei Yatsura: The Senior Year'... starting with Fred's 'Ishinomaki Years' and 'Illusions' series as well as our 'Urusei Yatsura: Twenty Years Later' series. Plus, there will be other stories coming as well. "The people we thank include our parents, who put up with our discussions late at night in our homes. Especially, Fred Herriot's mother, Eleanor Kushnir, who edited our stories and who unfortunately passed away last August, but we know is probably looking down at us from Heaven and smiling at us at this moment. "We also thank the millions and millions of people who sent in suggestions, those who critiqued our work, put up websites, and even wrote stories to add to the 'Senior Year' mythos. The success of this series was through your help as well. "Also to the readers, without whom we'd never be here. "And finally, to thank Rumiko Takahashi who gave us a series which has inspired us to do what we did. Someday, we hope you can read what we wrote ...and, if you're not too upset by it...enjoy it! "Now, we can say... 'We are that damn good!' "Domo arigatou gozaimasu!" *** "Thank you, Fred and Mike," Nightman concluded. "Next up is Relentless, by Grayson Moist Towellette...what the?!" "Maybe it's time for you to throw in the towellette too, eh?" the old men heckle. He looks at the prompter, then glances at his notes. "Ah," he mused, recognition lighting, "Grayson Towler. What can I say about this that, well, some other award ceremony didn't already. Lots, actually, since it's an exciting story with some of the best character interaction I've seen in an original-flavor Ranma fic. "Anyway, let's allow the author to speak for himself about his work." "He can do a better job of it than you two can! Hehehehehe!!!" the old men continue. *** "This award comes as something of a pleasant surprise. I was deeply honored when I received a mere 1/24th of a Chickenball award last ceremony, so the induction into the Hall of Fame is an extraordinary experience. This is especially true in light of the fact that the most I hoped to receive this year was an award for procrastination, which is a dubious honor at best. "'Relentless' is an unfinished work, and while I am pleased that it has made the Hall of Fame in its current state, I feel as if it is almost a cheat. The fact that I have not been able to write anything worth reading for the story in two years is as frustrating to me as it is to the fans who have written and asked for the tale to continue. "I won't elaborate here on the reasons for the excruciating delay. Suffice it to say they are personal, complex, and pretty uninteresting. But I have not forgotten 'Relentless,' nor do I intend to leave it as it stands. I'll finish this damned story if it kills me. "I sincerely appreciate the award. It means a great deal to me to know that people have enjoyed 'Relentless' enough to place it in such high company. I can't tell you when it will happen, but I will find my way back to Ranma and his friends, and I'll see if I can get them out of the mess I've written for them. Thanks." *** "Our third nominee is... Karma Karma Karma Karma Karma Chameleon? W-WHAT?" Megane gawks at the TelePrompTer as it begins scrolling musical lyrics by Boy George. Fuming, Megane stalks over to the TelePrompTer and gives it a swift kick. Several more swift kicks follow but ultimately fail to garner any positive result other than a slight release of frustration for the CB co-host. "Uh, Megane?" Nightman prods. "Give me a minute, I'm just defragging the system!" Megane growls as he tips the machine over on its side and begins angrily jumping up and down on it. "But we've got a cue-card guy now! Look!" Nightman points to a nervous young man standing next to a pile of posterboards. Megane gives the machine one last stomp before nodding his thanks to Nightman and the cue-card guy and returning to the podium. "Okay, let's try this again, shall we? Our third nominee is 'Ranma and Cologne: A Love... Story?" Megane did a double take as the cue-card guy instantly realizes his mistake and frantically spits on his sleeve before attempting to rub out the word 'Cologne' with it. Meanwhile, Megane seems more indignant than annoyed as he continues. "Ranma and Cologne? Well, I have to say that that's utterly disgusting. Only a truly sick mind would have written that. More importantly, *I* did it first, back in...." "It's supposed to be Ranma and *Akane,* Megane! You didn't even read it, did you?" Nightman said accusingly. "H-Huh?" Megane bigsweats as his mind races furiously. "O-Of course I did! I-I was just sneaking in a harmless plug... heh... nothing wrong with a little self-promotion now and then, right? Anyway, back to the inductee... 'Ranma and Akane: A Love Story'... well, what can I say about that one, except that it features... well, Ranma, or at least a character who goes by that name, and another one called... uh... Akane! Yeah!" "Go on...." Nightman frowns. "And... umm... I think at some point there's some sort of affection involved... y'know, love and stuff...." "And?" Nightman prods. There is another awkward pause before Megane's shoulders finally slump. "All right! I give up! I have no idea about this story! It could feature Ranma as a singer of Gaelic folk tunes for all I know!" Megane exclaims. Nightman raises an eyebrow. "So you *did* read it then? It seems I owe you an apology." "Huh? Oh, uh, no problem! Heh... OK, let's move on before we get the gong, shall we? Here now are some words from the author of 'Ranma and Akane: A Love Story', Eric Hallstrom!" There is a long pause as stage hands frantically attempt to signal something to Megane and Nightman. Then Woody the Overfiend comes onstage and with a loud belch, sheepishly says, "Excuse me, was Eric expected up here? Boy, am I embarrassed..." The sound of everyone's jaw simultaneously hitting the floor is deafening as Woody shuffles off stage, muttering, "I'm not even sure he was kosher... what was I thinking?" Nightman manages to recover first and looks at the cue-card man in front of him. "Shampoo 1/2." He touches his nose to get the card guy's attention. Getting it, he gestures to ask if there are any more cards than the one presently shown. Nightman is greatly surprised when the card guy quickly attempts to shuffle through the cue cards, only to find that he only has the one showing. "To heck with it!" Nightman shrugs, then turns to the audience. "Our next inductee this evening is that epic Ranma alternate universe fanfic series, D.B. Sommer's 'Shampoo 1/2.' With more chapters written for this than there are volumes of the manga that inspired it, this series starts out comic, ends in serious drama, and covers all the bases in-between. You have adventure, drama, romance...multiple romance...and perhaps more of all of this than even Takahashi herself could stuff in the manga. "Anyway," Nightman concludes his ad-lib, "without further ado, let's hear a few words from the author, D.B. Sommer!" *** "Wow. I'm amazed people still remember this piece. I'd like to say I'm honored and grateful to receive this induction. It's especially surprising since it's the first fic I ever wrote, and I'll be the first to admit it shows in a number of places. Looking back over the early chapters, I honestly cringe at some of the things I did." He shudders. "But I like to think I got better, learning a great deal as it went on (and on, and on) and I became more comfortable with writing. Despite its shortcomings, I'm satisfied with the end result, especially with what minimal skills I had at the time. I'll admit it's my proudest work, even though it's far from my best. Up until then I'd never been persistent enough to do anything that required this much work and effort. I'll also take up a bit of time to thank the people who wrote to me during the almost two years I did Shampoo 1/2 and kept encouraging me to continue. Without them, it would have been much harder to complete. And last of all, thanks to everyone who voted for it this time around." *** "And our final inductee tonight... according to our ever-reliable cue-card guy... is 'Child of Density'...." Megane paused as voices from the balcony made themselves known again. "Child of Density? I hear that's a real heavy fanfic, Statler. Yeah, and the kid's none too bright either! Oh ho ho ho ho ho!" Megane could only roll his eyes and smile as he continues. "But the actual final inductee is the much more deserving 'Destiny's Child' by FIRE." *** "A lot of people have asked me what the defining moment in my life was. The Kennedy Assassination? The first moon landing? The fall of Carthage to the Romans? Of course, I can't remember any of these, so I invariably have to say that the defining moment in my life was the day that I walked down to the corner store (about three miles from my home), and discovered that one-cent lollies were now two cents. That shocking discovery scared me for life, and inducted me into that cold, cynical world of adulthood. "Since then there have been a large number of things that have brought me great fame and glory, but few of them have had the far reaching impact as fanfiction writing. To all appearances, nothing short of September 11 has touched the world quite as much as fanfiction, providing an artistic medium unmatched in human history, and access to billions of victims to read my writings all around the world. "For a long time I had considered the adoring fan-girls, the devoted minions begging to do my bidding and the slavish devotion of my readers to be the ultimate form of compliment. Since then, I have been granted the boon of a Chicken Ball award, and all else has fallen to the wayside. All else aside from those fan-girls dressed up in Sailor Moon costumes... But they are the only thing that compete with the sheer glory and majesty, the respect and dignity conferred by receiving this award. "The fame associated with this award does have its price, however. No matter where I go now, people invariably stop me on the street. Autographs, interviews, chat shows, even just desirous fans seeking to touch me or have a piece of my clothing as a souvenir. It is a word of warning that I must give to all aspiring authors: beware that if you can reach these rarefied heights and stand beside me as a recipient of the Chicken Ball, you too will be subject to unceasing worship. "Invariably people ask me what was the hardest thing about writing the story, and as I am sure all authors would agree with me, it was the casting. The spread of cosplay as an art form across the US and Japan has produced an over-abundance of Ranma and Akane impersonators that has not been seen since the last Elvis convention in Las Vegas. Fortunately, I was privileged to work with some extremely talented actors, not only for my lead roles, but also for everyone from supporting cast down to the walk-on actors who had no speaking roles. Having to turn down famous (but non-Japanese) celebrities who were seeking appearance roles in the final chapters was an inspiring experience. "To close, I would like to thank all of the people who read, commented on, looked at (or looked over) or have even simply heard of my story. Without the fans, there would be no fanfiction, and your support makes it all worthwhile. I would also like to thank the judges of the Chicken Ball Awards, and as agreed, that thanks shall appear in monetary form as small, unmarked bills in a brown paper bag. "Good luck to you all, and remember: if violence is not the answer, you are asking the wrong question." *** The audience applauds as Megane and Nightman leave the stage while the announcer's voice is heard again. "Here to present the award for 'Funniest Fanfic', Brian Randall!" Brian walks onto the stage from the wings, staring at a sheet of instructions in his hands and wearing a somewhat dusty suit along with a pair of wire-frame glasses, walking onto the stage with Otohime Mutsumi following at his side. She smiles and waves when they reach the podium, and Brian offers a somewhat nervous smile. "Ah, hello, everyone," Brian says, wincing as leaning to close to the microphone generates a sudden squeal of feedback. "Whoops. Um. Right, I was asked to present an award for the Chickenball awards this year by a good friend of mine, and the category I was asked to present was 'Funniest Fanfic'." Mutsumi claps her hands together quietly. "Oh, my! Why did they ask you?" "I'm not entirely sure," Brian confesses. "Maybe it's a joke. Ah! Humor! I recognize that!" Blinking, Mutsumi glances across the crowd of guests for the presentation before clearing her throat. "Ah, well, who are the nominees?" "Excellent question." Fumbling through his pockets Brian frowns, and explains, "The concept of humor, while one that I generally can't contribute to, is one that I see often on the FFML, and one that I respect deeply. Many authors try to be funny every year, but some select few succeed even more impressively than anyone would expect -- creating lasting works of humor that are chatted about in dark IRC chatrooms, private e-mails between friends, and the like." Brian frowns suddenly, and starts searching his pants pockets. "Erm. While it has been my observation that humor seems to be easy to write, writing it well is an entirely different story. For that reason, we're here tonight to present an award to...um...one of the nominees on this list right...uh...." Brian trails off, glancing at Mutsumi hopefully. Giggling softly behind her hand, Mutsumi recites, "The nominees for the Funniest Fanfic award are.... "'Insertion' by Ryoga P. Hibiki Author E-mail: Fic is at http://fanfic.tass-anime.com/ranma.insertion "'Nuke 'Em Till They Glow' by Benjamin A Oliver Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/ben-oliver/index.html "'Those Who Hunt Ninjas' by DB Sommer Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/d_b_sommer/twhn/huntninjas.html "'Yardwork' by DB Sommer Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/d_b_sommer/oneshot/yardwork.html" "Ah, yes," Brian says, nodding. "Some excellent stories on that list. And now, without further ado, the winner is...." Falling silent, Brian fumbles through his pockets again. "Erm.... Mutsumi, do you have the envelope?" Nodding, Mutsumi pulls the envelope in question from her cleavage, handing it to Brian. "Erm...thanks," he manages, opening the envelope and passing the result back to Mutsumi. "The winner is.... 'Nuke Them Till They Glow', by Benjamin A Oliver!" Mutsumi announces. Brian joins the crowd in applause, and then whispers to Mutsumi, "How did you remember all the nominees?" "I read it off the TelePrompTer." Brian looks as through he's about to say more, but cuts off as Ben Oliver, who has been crossing his fingers and muttering things to himself while the nominees were announced, grabs the cheeks of the girl sitting next to him, kisses her full on the lips, then leaps up and shouts with his hands up in the air, "YES!!!" He turns to his left, clenches a fist by his face, and adds, "Hoo-yeah, baby!" Ben struggles past the people in his row and makes his way up to the stage, pausing to hi-five Jason Hanks, Jussi Nikander, Louis-Philippe Giroux, and Larry F. "Yeah, bud-EEEEEEEEE!!!" The applause dies down by the time Ben reaches center stage. He shares a quick, overly-familiar hug with Mutsumi and snatches the award from Brian. Lightly shoving them aside, he grabs the microphone and taps loudly it with his index finger. The resulting high-pitched sonic feedback has most of those in attendance wincing and grabbing their ears. Ben nods and smiles in approval. "Yes, yes, yes, yes. Good." He rubs his hands together and tugs on his formal black jacket. "Well, I'd like to thank all the wonderful people that have made this all possible, and I'd like to thank the academy... Er!! I mean, the ChickenBall Committee and all their associates. What I'd most like to say is this..." In a sudden movement Ben, reaches back and puts his arms across the backs of Megane's and Zoogz's heads and yanks them close, squeezing their cheeks against his. Keeping his gaze forward, and with the other two staring with pained expressions at the audience, he continues, "THIS is what it's all about! Togetherness, and working towards a common goal to write a funnier story, a more intriguing punchline, and overall, better fan fiction! YES, my friends. With a spoonful of comments and criticism, we can make it WORK." Pointedly messing up the hair of those next to him by running his fingers through it, Ben continues, "With a bunch of overly done cliches and turning others' smart remarks into dialogue, along with incorporating all the ideas anyone is able to present, we created a big story, a funny story, a GREAT story, which was conceived of by all of us, and I was but the mouthpiece that gave those ideas form! This is what Nuke 'Em 'Till They Glow!! stands for: a great, unified force that takes a surly countenance and DRIVES a chuckle into it whether he or she likes it or not. DRIVES it, I say!" As suddenly as Ben had taken (the announcer and the female lead) captive, he spreads his arms and releases them, finishing by calmly saying, "Thank you all for your support. It is greatly appreciated. As they say, it's not the plot that counts, it's how you use it. With any luck, we'll have another chapter of Nuke 'Em 'Till They Glow!! ready before Doomsday. As with the Titanic in Ghostbusters Two...." He pauses dramatically. "Better late than never." With that, Benjamin A. Oliver confidently marches off the stage, ChickenBall award in hand, singing, "Carry on, Carry on, Carry on!" The camera switches to a bedroom. Piles of laundry lay about, some in folding baskets, some strewn across the floor, and there appears to be a piece of lacy red panties dangling from one of the bedposts. All of a sudden, a female's voice begin to speak. The camera moves about the room, trying to track it down. "Hello, everyone. I'm here to present the award for "Procrastinator of the Year". Um, actually, I can't show myself right now due to security reasons..." The door opens and a tall, brown-haired man walks in and points to the bed. "LaShawn's under there." Akane Tendo and Lita Kino march in, go straight to the bed and reach under it, yanking out a short, African-American woman, wearing glasses. She 'eeps' and smiles nervously. "Akane! Lita! Fancy seeing you guys here!" Lita tosses the man a twenty-dollar bill. "Thanks." "Don't mention it," says the man, pocketing the money. He smiles sweetly at LaShawn, who glares at him. "Hey, I've been telling you for months to get back to writing. It's your own fault. Think of it as an incentive to start again." "Gee, thanks a lot," LaShawn grumbles, adding under her breath as he leaves, "traitor." She suddenly remembers her company and puts a wide grin on her face. "Girls! Anything I can get you? Coffee? Tea?" "You got a lot of nerve doing this! Do you know how long it's been you've worked on Heart/Home?" Lita snaps. "Four years! Four years I've been stuck in the Ranma universe, waiting to get home. Genma's got it into his head that I'm his daughter now and has been engaging me to men left and right! Four years!" LaShawn nervously steps back. "Well, I have been a little busy. You know, getting married, buying a house..." "YOU'VE BEEN MARRIED FOR THREE FREAKIN' YEARS!" Lita shouts, grabbing LaShawn by the shoulders and shaking her vigorously. "THE HONEYMOON'S OVER ALREADY! I WANT TO GO HOME!" "Whoa! Whoa!" Akane struggles with Lita for a moment, then manages to pull her off LaShawn, who looks rattled. "Calm down!" Lita buries her face in her hands. "Sorry...sorry...it's just this Genma thing..." Akane pats her arm sympathetically. "I know. Trust me, I know." She glares at LaShawn. "You see what you've done to this poor girl? Your lack of writing is turning her into a mental case..." "Hey, I have been working on Heart/Home," LaShawn retorts defensively. "Granted, it's been going a lot slower than I planned--" "Yet you found time to write this little piece? I'm surprised to see *you* not nominated." Akane shakes her head. "So who are these other sorry saps who also 'don't have time to write'?" "Well," LaShawn pulls a piece of paper from her pocket and unfolds it. "The nominees are: "Eric Hallstrom for 'Ranma and Akane: A Love Story' Author E-mail: Fic is at http://fanfic.tass-anime.com/ranma.ranma-and-akane.a-love-story "Grayson Towler for 'Relentless' Author E-mail: Fic is at http://talesfromthevault.com/relentless/ "Krista Perry for 'Hearts of Ice' Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.akane.org/heartsofice/ "Louis-Philippe Giroux for 'Lines of Destiny' Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.anime.sobhrach.com/~dragon/lines/lines.html" Akane frowns. "And one of these are supposed to win an award? They're all losers, if you ask me." LaShawn shrugs as she opens a sealed envelope. "Well, the award goes to Eric Hallstrom for 'Ranma and Akane: A Love Story'. Huh. Frankly, I'm not surprised." Lita has composed herself enough to growl. "Whatever." She grabs LaShawn and pulls her out of the room. "And now that that's taken care of, get...me...home!" "Wait! Wait! I have to warm up my writing skills first... I got a roast in the oven! The bathroom needs cleaning! I'm not ready! I'M NOT READYYYYYYYYY!!!" Akane shakes her head and looks directly into the camera. "Eric, you better take this as a sign to get back to writing, or this *will* happen to you." As the camera switches back to the backstage area of the CB awards, Megane is about to walk onstage to accept the award on behalf of the late Eric Hallstrom when a loud retching sound is heard and Megane is stunned to see a saliva-covered, disheveled, yet surprisingly very much alive Eric Hallstrom walk past him and sidle onto the stage to accept the award. "H-how did he survive the...." Megane is stunned. "Luckily for Eric, C-ko was hanging out backstage and I fed Woody some cookies she prepared for us," Zoogz replies with a grin. "The rest are in the green room if you want 'em, Megane..." "Uh, no thanks." Megane bigsweats as Eric approached the podium. "I'd like to thank the academy.... "Actually, I'd like to thank the fans who have been far more patient with me than I deserve. I'd also like to say that the wait is almost over, but although I _am_ now writing again, it's ... uh .. not RAALS. Sorry." He sidles sideways. "Really sorry." He sidles more. "Maybe soon." He bolts off stage. Meanwhile Megane walks back on stage to announce the next presenter. "Here to present the award for 'Best Angst/Sad Fic' is Ginr... oh? Well, it seems that Ginrai won't be able to make it here today. So we'll have to televise it from where he is at the moment. And now, here's the author that's so far written a number of fics which had absolutely nothing to do with angst (other than for 'Crossing the Line', which he promises Brian that he'll one day finish):" A huge projector screen is slowly brought down from above onto stage. Once it's turned on, the image of a darkened room appears on it. All is silent, except for the sound of someone turning a page. Seconds passing by, it's repeated. As the view focuses on where the sound is coming from, one can see a flashlight being held over a book along with a girl having long, unkept hair and large glasses intently reading it. Sitting on the floor and leaning against a huge bookshelf, she has a look of one who has no idea of her surroundings, her attention focused solely on what the written prose has to offer. Someone nearby politely coughs a few times, trying to grab her attention. In response, a smile appears on her face over the passage she has just read. "Ahem. Yomiko, we're on," he says with a bit more force. She sighs in contentment. "Give me that!" he shouts, grabbing the flashlight away from her. With the light now shining directly on him, he says, "Anyway, I'm Ginrai and she--" He points to the girl, who at the moment is attempting to read her book by using a mini-flashlight that is attached to her keychain. "--is... Yomiko... Readman." Staring at her for a few seconds, Ginrai goes on to mutter a few curses under his breath before snatching the book from Yomiko's hands. This immediately gets her attention as she tries to unsuccessfully grab it back. Looking up to see who interrupted her reading, she asks quizzically, "Ginrai-san? Is it our turn to present?" Eyebrows twitching violently, Ginrai says, attempting to ignore what he heard, "Now some of you out there might be wondering just why we're presenting inside of a closed library. Did we, by any chance, get caught up in the sort of international conspiracy that The Paper usually gets tangled in and end up trapped here with no way out? Or maybe it was the work of some disgruntled author who didn't want the awards to go on...." Sighing, he continues, "Well, no. This is all because I fell asleep and no one bothered to tell me that it was closing for the night. And Yomiko...." He points to his partner. "She was too busy with her book to notice anything else." Turning towards the girl, Ginrai scowls, asking, "Wasn't it _your_ idea to stop by the library before going to the awards? What the hell ever made me agree to that?!" Giving off a sheepish smile, Yomiko replies, "But wasn't this for the best?" Before he can give any sort of retort, she added, "I mean, what better place to present an award on writing than a library?" Ginrai stares at her for a bit before shaking his head. "Fine. Let's get on with the presentation." Seeing Yomiko nod in agreement, he goes on. "Today we're here to award the fanfic that, during the years 2000 and 2001, could not only grab ahold of our attention, but also our emotions in such a way that we, the reader, felt the character's plight throughout the story." Removing from her arm an object which at first seems to be a plain-looking metallic bracelet, Yomiko casually snaps her wrists upwards, causing the item to unfold and reveal itself to be a 'normal' piece of paper. "The nominees for best Angst/Sadfic are: "'Fragments' by Linda Shen Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.ling.0catch.com/archive/ranma/fragmentspt1.txt http://www.ling.0catch.com/archive/ranma/fragmentspt2.txt "'Lonely Souls' by Fred Herriot Author E-mail: Fic is at http://ladycosmos.anifics.com/x-over/lonely.html "'Miss/Fortune' by Brian Randall Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/durandall/index.html "'The Cat That Danced With Death' by DB Sommer Author E-mail: Fic is at http://rakhal.com/florestica/d_b_sommer/oneshot/catdance.html" Having finished reading the list, Yomiko gives out a wistful sigh, wiping the few drops of tears from her eyes. "All of those stories definitely deserved to be here, each author using his or her talent to portray the main character's hardship in a variety of ways -- from attempting to move on with their lives, trying to find out what their purpose in life is, remembering a past which they wish to forget, and going all out just to spend a few more moments with their family." Ginrai nods in agreement. "And now, seeing that we're nearing the end, time to announce this years winner. Yomiko?" He holds out his hand, waiting to receive a paper containing the author's name. "Yes, Ginrai-san?" "The paper?" "Yes?" "I meant the paper that had the winner's name!" "Oh." Carefully searching around herself, Yomiko proceeds to turn back to her partner, laughing slightly. "I... umm... don't have it." Jaw dropping down as far as possible, Ginrai gapes back in disbelief. This goes on for a few seconds before he comes up with an idea. Picking up Yomiko's book, which he still has, he frantically searches through it. "A-ha!" he screams in triumph, pulling out a slip of paper from the book, disregarding the shout of "my bookmark!" from nearby, reading the contents of the paper instead. Taking a deep breath, Ginrai announces, "And now, the winner is... 'Miss/Fortune' by Brian Randall! "Congratulations, Brian-san!" After his name is called, there's an uncomfortable moment of silence. The crowd begins to look around curiously, searching for Brian before someone notices: he's not in the audience. Just as Ginrai is about to speak again, Brian stumbles in from stage left, looking harried, and bowing apologetically. "Sorry!" he says, once he's close enough to reach the microphone. "I, uh, was watching from the back -- I didn't think... er...." Trailing off, Brian clears his throat, and coughs. "I'm afraid I don't have any speech planned for this, because I... well, honestly, I never thought that I could win." He smiles weakly, taking up the chickenball from the podium, and admiring it for a moment. "It's not me being angst-ridden about my writing skill, it's just that... I never thought I had managed to do that good a job." Brian chuckles ruefully, raising a hand to wipe at a faint sheen of nervous sweat that's formed on his brow. "I... well.... I guess I should say that I'm grateful that I won -- and I am, because you voted for me! So, thanks, and... wow. I, uh, won something. That's... that's awesome." Brian shrugs, grinning like an idiot. "I should say something about the fic," he realizes belatedly. "Um... yeah, some of the pain in the story -- and I think, maybe, there was a little too much -- was my own, because of problems I had gone through before writing the story. Um. I guess it's true that an author puts a piece of himself into his works, because I know I have. And you know that because the ending is my belief that if you have faith, and do the best you can, things will work out." There is a moment of stark, absolute silence again, no one saying anything. Near the back of the auditorium, someone coughs quietly. "Uh, I should probably try to be less upbeat when talking about an award I won for angst," he realizes. "Right. I'll go run off and hide now." Sprinting away at a surprising speed, Brian crosses back to stage left, and vanishes behind the curtains, shiny chickenball award still in his hands. As the applause starts to die down, Yomiko says to Ginrai, "See? Everything turned out well!" "Yes...." Giving out a small chuckle, Ginrai says, "I'm surprised that nothing really bad happened." "Anyway." Yomiko smiles, bringing her hand close to him. "Can I have my book back?" "Sure thing." As he is about to return it to her, Ginrai pulls it back, saying, "Actually... wait. I want to see just what was it about this book that caused you to be so interested in it before." Perusing through the first couple of pages, he says aloud, "Wow! This is rather good!" Bringing his hand up to her face, trying to wave his partner away, he says, "Umm... wait for a few more minutes. I want to look through some more of this." Ginrai is too absorbed in what he's reading to take notice of the glint on Yomiko's glasses, which appears right before their connection abruptly cuts off. To a smattering of applause, the co-host of the Chicken Balls comes from behind the curtain. After that a short white guy with close-cropped black hair and a blue tuxedo follows him. "Welcome one and all again to the Chicken Ball awards! I am still your co-host, Zoogz, and I have been chosen to present the Best Crossover award. I know you're all expecting a great anime babe on my arm... but seeing as how my circumstances have changed slightly over the past year..." Scott readjusted his collar and continued, "I've decided to bring out someone much more topical. In that vein, I'd like you to all give a warm welcome to the current king of syndicated television. Even more macabre than Jerry Springer, he can be more sappy than Oprah Winfrey losing yet another three pounds and more sensational than Geraldo opening Al Capone's glovebox. He's... the king of crossing over, John Edward!" After even less applause than before, the man beside Zoogz takes a microphone handed to him by Megane 6.7 and begins to wander about the crowd. He looks left and right, as if he's getting signals from outer space. Or in other dimensions. John Edward makes a right at the first row and begins to walk through. "Okay, I'm channeling a spirit... anyone here by the name of Serra? There's an Uncle... Istvan, I believe, he's trying to come through..." He pauses. "He'd like to tell you not to worry, you weren't the one who dispatched him..." "There he is! Get him!" Tira Misu and Chocolate come bursting in from backstage. "He's the one we've been warned about, the channeler!" Tira yells. Both women sandwich Zoogz at the microphone and yell loud enough to wake the dead. "GET OVER HERE, EDWARD! YOUR DAY HAS COME!" John Edward looked frantic for a second. "They found me! They found me, Marty! I don't know how... but they found me!" He scampers off through the back door as Tira Misu and Chocolate give rapid chase. Zoogz shakes his head sadly as he hears the loud wail of a poor man getting tortured within an inch of his life by two barely-dressed women. He turns to the right and yells to the denizens of offstage, "Great, guys. Now we need someone to clean up and another presenter. Heaven forbid an awards ceremony have less than two people up here at once..." Suddenly, a short woman arrives from backstage with a broom. "I'm Reiko Mikami, I'll sweep these spirits out tonight, no problem!" She proceeds to go into the crowd, randomly batting the air. Three rows from the front, various people utter exclamations of pain. Zoogz looks back offstage. "That's all I get?" From stage left, two figures enter. The first is a rather average man with a hideously scarred left hand. "Hello, I'm Nueno Mesuke... call me Nube," he calls to Zoogz. The other person gives a bow and makes her way to the podium. She is dressed in an abbreviated white blouse and black skirt and has long red hair flowing over her face. She reaches the microphone and says, "Hello! I'm from the Phantom Quest Corporation. Ayaka Kisaragi, at your service!" "Sheesh, talk about a crossover..." Zoogz shakes his head. "Are you sure all this spirit security is completely necessary?" Random screams from the lobby interspersed with even more random "ow"s and "ouch"es from the audience underscore the auditorium as Zoogz clears his throat. "Okay, folks, here are your nominees for 'Best Crossover':" "'Insertion', by Ryoga P. Hibiki," Ayaka announces. Author E-mail: Fic is at http://fanfic.tass-anime.com/ranma.insertion "'Paragon' by Robert Haynie," Nube intones. Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.sofaspud.org/main/fanfic/Ranma/Paragon/ "'Process of Elimination' by Brian Randall," Ayaka reads from the TelePrompTer. Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/durandall/index.html "'The Saotome Gambit' by J. Austin Wilde," Nube finishes. Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.gci-net.com/users/w/wildeman/jamie.htm "The winner is..." Zoogz leads in and fumbles with the envelope Ayaka brought in... "Process of Elimination! Come on up, Brian!" The orchestra cued up a rousing rendition of "Otome no Policy", but before Brian Randall has a chance to get to the stage, a frantic John Edward zooms in from the left with his clothes torn mostly from his body. He pulls himself to the microphone and whispers, sadly, "I see dead peoppppppppple....." and faints dead away. The two Sorcerer Hunters appear and drag John Edward bodily from the stage as Zoogz, Nube, and Ayaka yield the microphone. Hesitantly creeping onto the stage, once more accompanied by Mutsumi Otohime, Brian peers around. Deciding the territory is safe for the moment, he trots to the podium, and grins, waving to everyone. "Hey! I, uh, I'll admit that I was hoping I would win this one, and, well, luckily enough, I did." Brian turns to Mutsumi for a moment, then back to the crowd. "Um, I'd like to thank Mutsumi, my muse, for all of her input on the project. It's complete, now, and _boy_ was that one hell of a ride!" "Oh, what about your other muse, Brian-kun?" Mutsumi asks sweetly. Brian's hands tighten on the lip of the already damaged podium, and he begins to sweat nervously. "Um, so, like I was saying, I owe it all to all of the people who helped me with the story, and helped make it everything it could be. Without you guys, it probably never could have happened. You guys rule!" "Brian-kun, where is Rouge-hime?" Brian twitches, tearing handfuls of wood from the podium, then backs away, glancing around furtively. "Uh, anyway, I owe you all big time, and, uh, oh, gee, look at the time! I have to leave!" Mutsumi grabs Brian's hand as he moves to run away. "But, Brian-kun, you haven't thanked Rouge-hime, yet! Without her loving attention, you never could have finished the story! Rouge-hime, why don't you come out?" Brian whimpers quietly, as the sound of a whip cracking echoes from the back of the stage. "Uh-oh." Swallowing grimly, as Mutsumi turns to face someone standing behind the curtains, Brian blurts out, "My muse is an abusive harridan! Save yourselves, people! Save yourselves!" Apparently not noticing Brian's speech, Mutsumi drags him away, his fingers tearing long gouges into the stage, until they vanish behind the curtain, leaving the award sitting atop the podium. Another whip crack sounds, and the award flies off behind the curtain, an angry feminine voice announcing, "This award is _mine_, you naughty boy, you!" There's a muffled scream, sounds of a muted struggle, and then nothing. All is now calm in the land of the Chickenball Awards. The award for Best MSTing is scheduled to be handed out, the audience members are chatting amiably with themselves, as well as with the few misplaced tourists that have wandered into the proceedings by accident. Together, they excitedly await what they've hoped would be a thrilling, humorous, and thankfully concise presentation ceremony. In this belief, they are to be somewhat disappointed. Abruptly, the PA system resounds. "j0! DannyCat here, and fear not! All your base are still belong to you, O Masters of the Culinary and/or Fanfic Arts, for I don't have any evil plans! Really! "Unfortunately, due to several well-foreseen circumstances completely within my control, I will not personally be presenting tonight's award for Best MSTing. To make a long story ever-so-slightly less so: these people scare me. Go fig... Anyway, I have procuring well-seasoned speaker to substitute-present all of it from top to bottom, and to speak with yours. Enjoy!" With that, the on-stage lighting dims, save for an undercurrent of ambient backlighting, and a lone figure regally glides on-stage amidst a palpable sense of hopeful expectation. As he reaches center stage, a lone spotlight from the rafters flares to life, illuminating the newcomer and prompting Mousse to stand up from the audience and point excitedly at the presenter's floating platform. "Here comes the Kuno Rowboat!" he remarks. They are not to be disappointed. #### "Lo!! It is as your wise men standing amongst yourselves to acclaim themselves proclaim: I,floating o'er the land upon my unclonnable and blessed rowboat,bestowed to my humble visage at the young adn tender age of sixteen,yet powered greatly by my mature and hardy age of seventeen,yea,I,the soul owner and proprietor of the Tatewaki wing of the metaphorically birdlike Kuno Clan,the nobility who swoops through Nerima with the greatest pinnacles of aplomb,stand before you in glorious triumph to commence my alloted portion of...the...CHICKEN... BALL...AWWWWWWARDS!!!" The audience stares in stunned silence. Several people fail to keep up with the strain of parsing that sentence and decide to quietly topple over instead. "Indeed! I hath recieved such a summoning,once upon a week long ago, that my presence,through secret channels such as the Kuno Family Carrier Pigeon Decoding Task Force(who,as an aside, I shall divulge some interesting facts thereof: they have yet to actually eat any of their avian RFCs,huzzah!),informed me that my presence would be requested six inches above this stage,which I commend! For it appears constructed,no doubt,in prime quality and of no uneven planks that would disturb my voyager! I approve!" #### Megane comes storming up to the other presenters, who are standing just offstage (though most of them have begun to start inching towards the exits). "What was DannyCat thinking, bringing his version of Kuno onstage?! We're ALREADY over the time limit for this segment and the Puce Wombat out there hasn't even STARTED the nominations yet!" "Oh, come on, if there's anything we need more of, it's the Kuno Rowboat! 'Folk Hero to the Masses,' and all that, you know?" replies a (still) unkempt man, watching the on-stage spectacle with more interest than annoyance. "Well, if we don't get him to finish up soon, those 'masses' are gonna turn into a 'mob', and I for one don't want to get to the point of seeing which of us they'll lynch first." His expression becomes even more serious. "Ah...you may have a point there. So, what do YOU suggest we do?" #### "And now! To allot forth from thy acquiesced voting ballots,not to mention the joyous honor to be associated with one so magnificent in pleonasticity,I shall now declare those who acquired the praise, justfully enough,of their representatives in all the land for Best MSTing of The Recent Voting Period!" He pauses dramatically. #### The audience, most of the presenters, all three of the misplaced tourists, and practically everyone in attendance seize upon this momentary pause to voice a humble, yet sincere, request: "GET *ON* WITH IT!!!" #### "Firstly! The misting of 'GutB In-Character Xel+ Filia fic' by the FFIRC Assemblage, thusly perusable at http://www.nabiki.com/mst/ffirc/ for all of the global populace to reach as tehy desire! "Secodnly! The one who calls forth those to call him as 'Zoogz',whose comentary enllabeled 'Nyquil DOOM!' lays low lesser men then I,Blue Thunder of Fuurinkan-Koukou(who,incidentally,located this tome upon teh adress of http://www.nabiki.com/mst/zoogz/mst/)!!" #### "How can he make spelling typos when he's *talking?*" "M4d sk1llz." "Ah." #### "Tertiarily! 'Zoogz' procured himself an alliance,with he whose mighty earthments crumbled primitives soundly; the Named Numeral; 'Megane 6.7'! Thusly going,a most honorable pact forgd,the tale 'Raw is ORO!' bowed under there pressure,cooked juicily within the stone-kempt altar of http://www.nabiki.com/mst/megane67/mst/misc/ in delectability... "Quadratically! A tale of justice and revenge,a story of shocking woe, a legend of Hurlothrumbo,the 'Redheads' MST by FFIRC, uncovered at http://www.nabiki.com/mst/ffirc/ in additionality!" #### Meanwhile, just offstage: "...can't we just gong him and rush him out of the building?" "No, no, he needs to finish the nominations first. THEN we cut him off, but it has to be done QUICKLY. We need a plan..." #### "Fivealiciously! From the acroamatical depths of thy listened category,'Zoogz' strikes twice in supplementary,revealing forth words of wisdom on 'Sailor Trigger' in http://www.nabiki.com/mst/zoogz/mst/ and from him,even one as splendiforous as mine own self has gained realization! Word! "That of nomination for the Sixth Seed! Megane 6.7,a true Man Amongst MSTeries,and 'Zoogz',another MSTerious MSTery,did righteously go forth and offer atonement for 'The Io Saga',chronicling this record at http://www.nabiki.com/mst/megane67/mst/smcross/ forever and ever, amen!" #### "Okay, we need a get-Kuno-off-the-stage battle cry. Something common, everyday, and simplistic. Something like..." "'Shoulder-Mounted Stinger Missle!'?" "...perfect." #### "Nextly to Nextlast! 'Ukyo Gets What She Deserves' from the proficiently experienced hands of Megane 6.7,bringing it up once more to to common table,where,from http://www.nabiki.com/mst/megane67/mst/ranlemon/, all who seek may sup from its citrus pool! "And, as I break the Eighth Seal of Nominatorix,the final Theatre of Science and Mystery shows itself mightily with an identification thereof as 'Winter',conquered yet again by a bespectacld floating-point,Megane 7.6,and the remains of such a conquest will show themselves sturdy upon http://www.nabiki.com/mst/megane67/mst/soh/! And FURTHERMORE...!!" "SHOULDER-MOUNTED STINGER MISSLE!!!" Kuno, unaccustomed to being interrupted with such a militarily-phrased interjection, glances offstage and notices the rocket trained on his floating rowboat. As the telltale flash of propulsive gasses begins the missle's deadly launch, he comes to the surprisingly lucid conclusion that, for times like this, just once (at the very least), when one takes the time to sit for a while and think about it...less really *IS* more. "...the-victor-of-this-contest," Kuno finishes in great haste, "is- FFIRC-for-'REDHEADS'!! AAAUUUUUUOOOOUUUUAAAAAAAGHHH!!!" He frantically points his sword towards the ceiling, and Subdragon Five (the aforementioned Kuno Rowboat) impressively lurches upwards. The ChickenBall award, not wanting to be left out, gently topples out of the craft and lands neatly on stage. And so, the Terror ends. The Kuno Rowboat flies majestically into the ceiling and produces a rather satisfying 'TOGGG!!!' as it breaks through and sails into the night sky, the fire-and-forget warhead trailing close behind. Meanwhile, Richard politely acknowledges the applause as he leads his team of MSTers up to the stage. Standing in front of the mike in a businesslike fashion, he surveys the crowd before speaking. "I'd just like to say that my acceptance speech for this award has been declared top secret by NURV. Hail Gendon!" Latin walks up to the stage, thinking jokes, acting riffer, exuding MSTs and walking... funny. "Well, thanks for the award, guys. I dedicate this to all those who said that only one of my riffs made the cut. Yeah! You can't prove anything! Show me the logs, if you dare! Show me the logs!" He starts to laugh, a maniacal undertone tinging his guffaws. Finally, he notices the silence. "...er... thanks again." Latin runs off. Fido is next to step up to the mike. "I helped MST Redheads?" Gary takes the mike next. "There were a lot of good MSTings to choose from, but this one has one distinction: it took aim at a popular fanfic by a popular author, much like Megane did with 'Ranko's Life' years ago. While the Mike Rheas of the world certainly deserve everything they get, it's perhaps more of an accomplishment to point out cases where, while the Emperor may not be naked, his sartorial taste leaves something to be desired." Megane 6.7 is next up. "I would like to use my acceptance speech time to make out with my dates for the evening... Oh, Anna... Uni....?" "Boo! Hiss! You ripped that bit off from Howard Stern!" an outraged member of the audience shouts as the Dominion Puma Twins join Megane on stage. "No, uh, it's an homage! Really!" Megane retorted. "Boo!" "Aw, screw it. It's my acceptance speech! I have the keys to the kingdom! I'M THE GOD! I'M THE G... ack, only a few seconds left! Quick, kiss me!" Megane yelps and he hugs the twins closer. A dark, vaguely Ginrai-shaped image fades into view on a monitor screen. "Help! Yomiko knocked me out, bounded my hands and legs with paper, and ran off with the flashlight and book! I... oh, speech? Well, umm... I'm rather surprised that I won a chickenball award. Actually, it's more like I completely forgot I was part of the MST group for 'Redheads'. It occurred around when I first started to go to FFIRC and I wanted to see how the MST would go (I believe I even made a few comments here and there). Anyway, the others were definitely more instrumental in making the MST as successful as it was and I'm just glad I was able to be a part of it. So now, is someone gonna come and get me out? Hello? Is anyon--" Megane suddenly interrupts. "And now onto the next speech!" "Hey!" "Ladies and Gentlemen, here now to present the award for 'The Kasumi/Keiichi', is Bert Miller, the author of... of... something or other... damn, I thought I had those titles written down here somewhere...." Megane looks embarrassed as he searches his pockets. Finally he gives up. "Well, let's just give Bert a nice round of applause!" Bert Miller confidently leaps to the stage in a single bound. Unfortunately, he doesn't quite make it, and trips on the last step, falling flat on his face. He stands and shakes his head sadly, then accepts the microphone from Megane. He smiles vaguely at the audience as he begins to read from a hastily-scribbled three-by-five card. "Thank you, thank you. For those who don't know me (no comments, please!) I am a forty-something white male. My sign in Capricorn; my blood type is O, and my three measurements are 42-65-40." A chorus of "Eww, yuck, we didn't need to know that!" comes from the audience. Bert ignores them. "This award acknowledges that the FFML exists to provide feedback on our stories, not just to provide stories. For this, people who are willing to spend their time in providing comments and criticism about other people's stories are essential. This award constitutes recognition for those of us, the C&Cers, who so spend our time to help other writers improve. "When new authors post their first, tentative stories, we, the C&Cers of the list, are there to encourage them and coach them in what they need to do to improve their stories. When experienced authors post their umpteenth, polished story, C&Cers are there to quibble with their characterizations and point out to the uninitiated the hidden meanings and allusions with which these stories abound. When monsters rampage on the list, we're there to take them down! When treasure glitters, we're there to applaud it! When an enemy rises to face us... well, never mind." Bert coughs into his fist, looking vaguely apologetic, then continues. "Anyway, everybody on the list knows that some C&Cers are nice about what they have to say, and others... aren't. "So each year the Kasumi/Keiichi Award is given to the author who, in the opinion of the voters, is generally the nicest, most helpful, and most encouraging to struggling authors. As such, it is co-named for two anime characters whose names are proverbial for their niceness. (Except in stories where they're butt-kicking ninjas. Say, anybody ever write a story where they're BOTH butt-kicking ninjas?) "Anyway, I'm going to read off the nominees. For each one, I'm going to also read some of the comments which we received from some of the voters. "This year the nominees are: "Allyn Yonge , author of 'Bedlam Fire', 'Cats Have No Tears', 'Sukeban Senshi', and '"Yellow Dragon Black Tiger'. About Allyn, one respondent had this to say: "'No, I'm not happy. Sure, Allyn treats me with respect, unlike certain authors I could name. But have you ever been handled like Allyn handles me? It hurts! No, not my feelings; I mean physically!' - A. Tendo, Old Terran Year 2002, April 10th. "Brian Randall , author of 'Process of Elimination', 'Compass Points', and 'Miss/Fortune'. About Brian, we received these responses: "'Really, I was just astonished by the depth and scope of the way he reworked my material. And he was so kind doing it! I'm not just a better person, I'm a completely different person for it!' - R. Higurashi, nee Saotome, Old Terran Year 2002, May 10th. "'I was quite surprised, really, by the way he treated my story. It was like finding out that you aren't who you think you are.' - K. Tendo, Old Terran Year 2002, May 15th "D.B. Sommer , author of 'Vacation Days', 'Avenging', and 'Those Who Hunt Ninjas'. About D.B., we received this comment: "'Oh, I just *love* D.B.'s work! He treats my stories with such tender loving care!' - M. Kuramitsu, Old Terran Year 2002, May 1st. "June 'Karaohki' Geraci , author of 'A Change of Scene' and 'Breaking Free'; "'June is very kind about the way she catches my errors. There's one mistake in particular that I just keep making, in fic after fic, and she's very good at exposing it.' - P. Chan, Old Terran Year 2002, April 20th. "All of the nominees are easily worthy of receiving the award; unfortunately, 'in the end there can be only one.' The award goes to Brian Randall! Let's have a big round of applause!" Yet again crossing onto the stage, alone again, Brian marches into view. Managing to find his way to the podium, he stares blankly, biting his lip. "I... ah, I had a speech prepared for this," he explains hesitantly. "But... but after a presentation like that...." He takes a deep breath, and explains, "I... don't need that speech, I suppose. But I still have something to say, so.... "To me, the FFML has always been about improving yourself as a writer, and helping other people improve. But at the same time, there's no reason to go out of your way to hurt someone else. We get plenty of negative reinforcement in our lives, and I think it's nice... well... to give a little positive reinforcement, too. "It's not always enough to tell someone what you don't like, or what you think they're doing wrong; you have to tell them what you like, and what you think they got write. I can't speak for everyone, but when I first started writing fanfiction I was nervous, insecure, and worried that I wouldn't be able to get a darned thing right. "Well, I guess I did okay, but I never would have gotten where I am without help from people who spent so much of their own time helping me -- people like Chris Stassen, DB Sommer, Allyn Yonge, Angus MacSpon, Ginrai, Druid.... Without them, I never would have had the courage to try C&Cing on my own. "So... if you like my comments and criticisms, you know who to thank. If you don't... you know who to blame." Smiling softly, Brian bows again, and takes the award off of the stage. Megane 6.7 then emerges from backstage with a microphone to announce the next presenter. "Ladies and gentlemen," Megane intones with the solemnity of one officiating at a funeral, "due to circumstances beyond our control, because every reasonable alternative was tried and proved fruitless, the award for Best Ending will be presented by Hiroshi and Daisuke." He turns and strides off stage, pausing only to roll eyes. The audience begins to murmur as the two youths eagerly commandeer the microphone. "Hey, everybody. Daisuke and I are happy to be here, because we heard that people who do this kind of thing always get lots of hot babes. So... um, people? Could you all, y'know, pay attention here?" Conversations buzz through the audience. Faces retreat behind novels and Dell puzzle books, and cel phones flip open. "Just go ahead, dude," Daisuke says. "They'll wanna know who the winner is." "Um, right. Okay, well, in honor of this award, and since we were the ones who came up with the perfect ending for a certain long-running series about subzero-temperature cardiology that its certain author asked for but then refused to use officially, we decided to write our own ending for the Chicken Balls." Heads turn in the audience, necks straining to watch a Buggs Bunny cartoon running on someone's laptop in row three. "So, anyway, we...." Hiroshi suddenly glances up. "Holy crap. What's that?" The two boys stare as tendrils of black smoke slither across the blinding glow of the floodlights. All at once, the temperature seems to drop twenty degrees. Within seconds, it's all over. No one knows where it came from. Some will later speculate that the authors who had been voted "Worst of the Worst" had sacrificed their souls to some infernal power for the ultimate revenge. Others will theorize that it was simply a random occurrence, a freak cosmic accident, and still others will blame it on the flatulent effects of the Chicken Balls themselves. Whatever its reason for existence, the black cloud of death descends on the unsuspecting audience. No one even has time to scream or even look up as the flesh tears away from their bodies like tissue paper in a rainstorm. Bones clatter to the floor, with nothing left to hold them together. And with no one left to turn it off, a voice repeats its pre-recorded announcement in an endless loop. "We'll be back right after these messages. We'll be back right after these messages. We'll...." *** Megane 6.7 gestures angrily at the text on the monitor. "Guys, what in the you-know-what is this piece of you-don't-want-to-know-what?" "It's, aheh, our ending for the Chicken Balls." Sweat glistens on Daisuke's forehead. "Killing off everybody?!?" Megane points at the audience, most of whom are still staring idly off into space or busying themselves with other pursuits. "Why? WHY?!" "It's a special story technique," Hiroshi offers helpfully. "The Deus Ex Machina. You know it has to be high-class if there's a Greek word for it." "Look, I'll make this *really* easy for you," Megane huffs. "Can we show the nominee list for this award, please?" The screen text changes. "Thanks. Now, all you guys have to do is READ this." The two teenagers turn towards the monitor and stare. Megane begins to shake his head slowly back and forth. "OUT LOUD!" "Oh, right," Daisuke says. "The nominees for Best Ending are: "'Couch Trips' by Henry Burns Author E-mail: Fic is at http://fanfic.tass-anime.com/ranma.couch-trips "'Miss/Fortune' by Brian Randall Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/durandall/index.html "'Rain' by Ryoga P. Hibiki Author E-mail: Fic is at http://fanfic.tass-anime.com/ranma.amg.rain "'The Saotome Gambit' by J. Austin Wilde Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.gci-net.com/users/w/wildeman/jamie.htm "And the winner is... 'Rain' by Ryoga P. Hibiki!" Hiroshi and Daisuke both exclaim. The audience applauds as Ryoga emerges on-stage and approaches the podium. "Ahem. 'tis a great honor! To think that one with such skill as my own would win such a prize! I knew it must be so! For the vengeance of heaven is slow but sure! I, the mighty Perfect Carrot of Anime Fanfics, decree this! If you wish to date Akane Tendo, you must first defeat her in battle! I shall permit no other terms! Oh yeah. Thanks for voting. I really liked this story!" Ryoga exclaims as he holds the award triumphantly in the air before leaving the stage. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Here to present the award for Best Darkfic/Shockfic this year, is the star of Pokemon, Pikachu!" The crowd applauds politely as the Pokemon walks onto the stage, pushing a strange device set on a cart. Once he got to the podium, Pikachu flips a small switch on the item before he turns to the crowd. "Good evening!" The whole auditorium gasps in surprise at the fact that they could understand him. "Yes, yes. I know you all are surprised at this development but it is all due to the Universal Translator here that Washu..." A loud "AHEM!" comes from the wings. "Excuse me, Washu-chan, invented. So thanks!" He pushes the machine to the side then smiles as best he can. "AND now, without further ado, I would like to present to you, my middle finger!!" The crowd gasps again in surprise while Pikachu's eyes widen. "No, no, no! I didn't say that! There must be a glitch in the machine, even though most of you peons would think I meant you were number one!" The gasps turn to angry murmurs as the yellow Pokemon, even more mortified than before, clamps his paws onto his mouth. He takes his paws off long enough to shout something to the wings but unfortunately the machine picks it up. "Hey, stupid! Throw me a fricking bone here! Now where is my Mini-chu? Us evil mad geniuses need our sidekicks, you know!" "Hold on! Hold on! I'm coming!" comes a voice from the back as Washu walks onstage. She steps to the translator and examines it. As she does, Pikachu seems to be getting more and more irritated. Finally, Washu straightens up then scratches her head. "Well, you ninny? What's wrong with it?!" he asked. "It seems to be working perfectly." She then slyly looks over at the creature. "Are you sure you aren't saying this stuff?" "AAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!! I ain't saying this crap!" Pikachu then points at the machine and starts to power up a thundershock. "YOU! This is all your fault! EAT HOT LIGHTNING, YOU NICE MACHINE!!!!!!!!" The blast fries the machine instantly and leaves nothing but a burning shell. However Pikachu ignores it as he stomps offstage, muttering to himself which now comes out as 'Pika Pika PIKA pika!" Washu looks at her machine then turns to the audience. "Anyway, the nominees for the Best Dark/Shock fic are: "'Bedlam Fire' by Allyn Yonge Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.geocities.com/ayongedarling/BedlamFire.html "'Miss/Fortune' by Brian Randall Author E-mail: Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/durandall/index.html" When the applause dies down, she continues. "And the winner is... 'Miss/Fortune' by Brian Randall!" Once more crossing onto the stage from behind the curtain -- this time with his suit torn in a few places, and his hair disheveled-- Brian limps into view. Coughing quietly once he's standing behind the podium, he brushes some dust from his shoulder, as though it would make an appreciable difference. "Um. Wow. What can I say?" Brian says, head bowed. "Miss/Fortune was one of the first stories I ever wrote -- or at least, one of the first _good_ ones. I... I didn't expect to win this award, seeing as I was up against Allyn Yonge, and all. Um, I've already mentioned a bit about Miss/Fortune, since it... well... since it won the award for best angst fic." Brian shakes his head ruefully. "Honestly, the story was built around a single scene, and it... it taught me quite a bit in the writing -- and the C&C I received for it -- about writing." After accepting the award from podium, Brian bows to the audience. "I... I wish I new what to say, but I'm nearly stricken speechless that... that it... that it was good enough to win this. This means quite a lot to me, so for everyone who voted for me -- or voted at all, really.... Thank you. Thank you very much." Brian bows deeply again, and then marches off the stage, award in hand. Laughing nervously, Brian crosses back from stage right. "Wrong way. Sorry about that." Grinning sheepishly, he finds his way back to stage left, and vanishes behind the curtain again. "And now, ladies and gents... the final award of the evening...." The crowd erupts into cheers and whistling as Megane 6.7 and Zoogz emerge from offstage, dressed in combat fatigues, and approach the podium. "Greetings, I am Megane 6.7, my friends call me collect." The audience groan as a rimshot plays on cue. "As you know, the Chicken Cannon Target of the Year award has always closed our ceremonies with a bang and over the past year, we've collected many unique and special ingredients from CB fans the world over to use in tonight's ceremony." "After much consideration, hesitation, deliberation and occasional inebriation, we've narrowed down the ingredient list to twelve choices," Zoogz continued. "And now, here to unveil tonight's twelve theme ingredients for the Chicken Cannon, here is the chairman of Gourmet Academy, Kaga Takeshi!" As the CB orchestra strikes up the theme to Iron Chef, the crowd gasps in surprise and then all rise to applaud as Chairman Kaga walks onstage, dressed in a gold suit with ruffles and white cape covered in chicken feathers. He smiles and bows to the audience as stage hands quickly wheel in a large platform with eleven pedestals on stage. Each pedestal has a box-shaped object on top with a red cloth covering it. Meanwhile, Kaga bows and shakes hands with Megane and Zoogz before stepping up on the platform. Taking a moment to flip one side of his cape over his right shoulder, Kaga raises a gloved hand in the air, and the audience immediately falls silent. "If memory serves me correctly, I still haven't been paid for this gig. When can I expect my money?" Kaga says in Japanese. Several members of the audience burst out in hysterical laughter while the rest stare at them in confusion. Zoogz winces while Megane yanks his collar nervously. "Uh, sorry about that, folks, we're having a little trouble with the subtitle machine and..." Megane pauses as he notices a stage hand giving him a thumbs-up. "Oh, good. It's fixed. Go ahead, Kaga-san." Chairman Kaga nods and begins again. "" This time the entire audience bursts into laughter while Kaga glares at Megane and Zoogz, unsure what is happening but irritated nonetheless. Zoogz whispers something to Megane before hopping up on the platform to speak to Kaga privately. After a few moments, Kaga nods his understanding and smiles to the audience while Zoogz hops back down and quickly makes his way towards the control room. "Sorry for the delay. Zoogz's going to make sure the translation for Kaga-san is accurate and we can finally get this ceremony underway," Megane explains as the audience cheers in approval. Finally, after a brief interlude, the ceremony is ready to begin. "" Kaga's voice grows more excited and the music from the orchestra picks up as he continues. "" Hiroshi and Daisuke walk together onstage, wheeling in Carrot, who is gagged and heavily bound to a two-wheeled dolly. They place him in front of the platform as Kaga walks over to the first of the twelve ingredients. "" The music swells dramatically as Kaga yanks away the cloth covering the first box. "" The audience grimaces as Kaga steps over to the second box. "" He yanks the cloth off. "" Over the next couple of minutes, Kaga reveals the remaining nine ingredients which include freshly butchered but uncleaned frogfish, five gallons of week-old mayonnaise, goldfish crackers, rotten tomatoes, cans of slime from Hordak's Slime Pit, a bottle of Molson Canadian, strained carrots, pumpkin pasta, and for a festive touch, assorted Jelly Belly beans. "" The theme from 2001 cues up as a special platform lowers from the ceiling; upon it is a basket filled with tennis-ball-sized Chicken Balls. As the platform comes to a halt in front of Kaga, he takes one of the balls from the basket and, with a grin, takes a huge bite out of it to the crowd's approval. "" The crowd roars as a large pressure cannon is slowly pushed on-stage by a groaning Hiroshi and Daisuke. Zoogz emerges from the control room and is helped into a pair of industrial strength rubber gloves along with Megane as they both stuff each ingredient haphazardly into the cannon until it is one bubbling mass. Carrot is then wheeled from the front of the stage to the right side which has been heavily draped with plastic and a pair of protective goggles are wrapped around his head. "Let me guess, the goggles do nothing?" Carrot quips. "Good guess!" Zoogz grins as he and Megane step away from him and flee to safer ground with the rest of the CB staff in the wings. Carrot's lower lip trembles but he refuses to whimper as the maw of the pressure cannon is aimed directly at him and the countdown begins. "Five!" Zoogz shouts. "Four!" Megane follows suit. "Five!" Gary Kleppe exclaims. "Three, sir!" Hiroshi and Daisuke correct him. "Three!" Gary amends. "Two!" Fido chimes in, "ONE!" the audience screams together. "Allez Cuisine!" Chairman Kaga shouts as the Chicken Cannon discharges, engulfing the helpless Carrot in an avalanche of food. When it is finally over, the cheers from the crowd are deafening as CB stage hands quickly work to free him before he suffocates while the rest of the CB staff join Chairman Kaga on-stage. "Well, everyone, this has been a blast as usual. I'd like to thank the staff for their dedication and hard work in bring these awards together...." As Megane continues to thank everyone for their contributions, Chairman Kaga leans over to Zoogz and whispered something to him. Zoogz pales and leans over to reply. Kaga's face abruptly darkens as he exits off stage to the right. "Finally, I'd like to thank Kaga Takeshi for taking time from his busy theater schedule to help us with the Chicken Cannon Ceremony and..." Megane trails off as he noticed Kaga has left the stage. "Um, where's Kaga-san?" "Right behind you, you cheap bastards!" Kaga screams in Japanese, a crazed look on his face as he finishes stuffing the remains of the previous explosion into the barrel of the cannon and aims it towards Megane and Zoogz. The rest of the CB staff take one look at the cannon and flee for their lives while Gary Kleppe mutters something about this being a total Kaga-strophe. "Um, did you want me to translate what Kaga said?" Zoogz inquires nervously. "Nah, I think I got the gist of it," Megane mutters as the cannon's contents are soon flying towards them and one last thought enters his mind before he is once again covered with foodstuff. Maybe it's time they considered getting funding? THE END. C&C, as always, is welcome. :) CURRENT CB HOMEPAGE MAINTAINER: Rakhal PREVIOUS CB HOMEPAGE MAINTAINERS: Alan Harnum, Dan Root ,Gary Kleppe, CB HOSTS: Megane 6.7 and Zoogz CB INTERVIEWERS: Nightman and Unseen CB PRESENTERS: Everybody! Some of us twice! Some of us even more! ;P CB AWARDS SEGUES: Megane 6.7 and Zoogz CB EDITING: Gary Kleppe, Megane 6.7, Zoogz CB OPENING 'CHICKENBALL' SKETCH: Ukyou CB VOTE COUNTERS: DannyCat and Ginrai Bert Miller http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Dojo/5058/ Brian Randall David 'Fido' Linquist http://www.fortunecity.com/victorian/rothko/228/fidolibrary.htm Gary Kleppe http://www.garykleppe.org/comics.html Ginrai Jonathan 'Chibi-Joan' Rosbaugh LaShawn Wanak Megane 6.7 http://www.nabiki.com/mst Rakhal http://www.rakhal.com Rylan 'Dannycat' Hilman Scott 'Zoogz' Jamison http://www.nabiki.com/mst Steve 'Nightman' Cornett Ukyou Kuonji Unseen <031537@comcast.net> The CB Awards Homepages: http://www.rakhal.com/cb/cbvote.html http://www.thekeep.org/~harnums/CB/