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 <Bert.Miller@unisys.com>
Brian Randall <durandall@rakhal.com>
David 'Fido' Lindquist <fido@rmaonline.net>
Gary Kleppe <gary@garykleppe.org>
Ginrai <ranmafics@hotmail.com>
Jonathan 'Jon' Rosbaugh <skip@plover.net>
LaShawn Wanak <tbone_m_jenkins@yahoo.com>
Megane 6.7 <megane67@rogers.com>
Rakhal <ranma@rakhal.com>
Rylan 'Dannycat' Hilman <rhiruman@hotmail.com>
Scott 'Zoogz' Jamison <zoogz@yahoo.com>
Steve 'Nightman' Cornett <cornetts@siscom.net>
Ukyou Kuonji <ucchans@ameritech.net>
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: <kwokinator@animefanfics.com>
Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/FFIndex/ranlstA.htm#tag17
"'Kasumi's Dark Lessons' by Osr secret
Author E-mail: <osr31@hotmail.com>
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: <crazyfic@hotmail.com>
Fic is at http://fanfic.tass-anime.com/ranma.pie-in-the-sky
"'Ryoohki's Lover' by Adrian Tymes
Author E-mail: <wingcat@pacbell.net>
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: <twoflown@pixelscapes.com>
Fic is at http://pixelscapes.com/amh/amh.html
"'I'll Be Your Fiancee!' by Cabbit Blue
Author E-mail: <cabbitblue@myrealbox.com>
Fic is at http://setsuna.anifics.com/cabbitblue/index.html
"'Ranma the Amorous Oversexed Nympho' by WFROSE
Author E-mail: <WFROSE@aol.com>
Fic is at
http://miniarchive.dyndns.org:8080/cgi-bin/MiniArchive?Page=Search&SearchFor=amo
rous&SearchBy=Title
"'Sosei' by Siaru
Author E-mail: <siaru@stormbringer.org>
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: <aduetofpigtails@cephiro.com>
Fic is at http://www.mitsukai.com/Duet/Duet.htm
"'Again We Meet' by Brian Randall; Ranma/Ukyou pairing
Author E-mail: <durandall@rakhal.com>
Fic is at
http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/durandall/oneshot/againwemeet.html
"'Fragments' by Linda Shen; Ranma/Yuki Tanakawa pairing
Author E-mail: <echonymph@msn.com>
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: <seifertv@csus.edu>
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: <echonymph@msn.com>
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: <durandall@rakhal.com>
Fic is at
http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/durandall/missfortune/saido.html
"'Travels, Training and Trials' by June 'KaraOhki' Geraci
Author E-mail: <karaohki@SNET.net>
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: <carrotglance@juno.com>
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: <sommer@3rdm.net>
Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/d_b_sommer/"
"Paul Durant, 'Process of Elimination' by Brian Randall," Steven
continues.
Author E-mail: <durandall@rakhal.com>
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: <echonymph@msn.com>
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: <bjorn@etho.caltech.edu>
Fics are at http://www.its.caltech.edu/~bjorn/fanfic/
"Brian Randall
Author E-mail: <durandall@rakhal.com>
Fics are at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/durandall/index.html
"Siaru
Author E-mail: <siaru@stormbringer.org>
Fics are at http://www.sofaspud.org
"TheGrum
Author E-mail: <howard@mylinuxisp.com>
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: <carrotglance@juno.com>
Fic is at http://fanfic.tass-anime.com/ranma.insertion
"'Nuke 'Em Till They Glow' by Benjamin A Oliver
Author E-mail: <boliver@U.Arizona.EDU>
Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/ben-oliver/index.html
"'Those Who Hunt Ninjas' by DB Sommer
Author E-mail: <sommer@3rdm.net>
Fic is at
http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/d_b_sommer/twhn/huntninjas.html
"'Yardwork' by DB Sommer
Author E-mail: <sommer@3rdm.net>
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: <hallcon@mindspring.com>
Fic is at
http://fanfic.tass-anime.com/ranma.ranma-and-akane.a-love-story
"Grayson Towler for 'Relentless'
Author E-mail: <grayson@mail2.meridian-ds.com>
Fic is at http://talesfromthevault.com/relentless/
"Krista Perry for 'Hearts of Ice'
Author E-mail: <kperry@aros.net>
Fic is at http://www.akane.org/heartsofice/
"Louis-Philippe Giroux for 'Lines of Destiny'
Author E-mail: <dragon@anime.sobhrach.com>
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: <echonymph@msn.com>
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: <fherriot@yahoo.com>
Fic is at http://ladycosmos.anifics.com/x-over/lonely.html
"'Miss/Fortune' by Brian Randall
Author E-mail: <durandall@rakhal.com>
Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/durandall/index.html
"'The Cat That Danced With Death' by DB Sommer
Author E-mail: <sommer@3rdm.net>
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: <carrotglance@juno.com>
Fic is at http://fanfic.tass-anime.com/ranma.insertion
"'Paragon' by Robert Haynie," Nube intones.
Author E-mail: <Kenjiko2@aol.com>
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: <durandall@rakhal.com>
Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/durandall/index.html
"'The Saotome Gambit' by J. Austin Wilde," Nube finishes.
Author E-mail: <wildeman@gci-net.com>
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 <ayonge@yahoo.com>, 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 <brian@azurite.org>, 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 <sommer@2rdm.net>, 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 <karaohki@SNET.net>, 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: <hburns1351@aol.com>
Fic is at http://fanfic.tass-anime.com/ranma.couch-trips
"'Miss/Fortune' by Brian Randall
Author E-mail: <durandall@rakhal.com>
Fic is at http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/durandall/index.html
"'Rain' by Ryoga P. Hibiki
Author E-mail: <carrotglance@juno.com>
Fic is at http://fanfic.tass-anime.com/ranma.amg.rain
"'The Saotome Gambit' by J. Austin Wilde
Author E-mail: <wildeman@gci-net.com>
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: <ayonge@yahoo.com>
Fic is at http://www.geocities.com/ayongedarling/BedlamFire.html
"'Miss/Fortune' by Brian Randall
Author E-mail: <durandall@rakhal.com>
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. "<Your eyes remind me of foie
gras. My heart aches with dead sponge. I sleep in my toilet and I smoke
bad cheese.>"
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.
"<For years, I have unveiled ingredients to be used by my Iron Chefs to
prove their reputation as culinary masters and to provide me with
original cuisine never experienced by anyone before. Tonight, I will
unveil twelve ingredients to be used in a cannon. A chicken cannon.
Tonight's target is an infamous author. At a tender age, he has already
made an impact in the world of fanfiction.>"
Kaga's voice grows more excited and the music from the orchestra picks
up as he continues. "<Now, let's bring him on! An author who names
himself after a vegetable: Carrot-san!>"
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. "<Since there are so many ingredients to be announced, I
will be brief with each one. I unveil the first ingredient!>"
The music swells dramatically as Kaga yanks away the cloth covering the
first box. "<The first ingredient is microwaved squid!>"
The audience grimaces as Kaga steps over to the second box. "<I unveil
the second ingredient!>" He yanks the cloth off. "<The second
ingredient is fresh cream of wheat!>"
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.
"<And finally, the twelfth and final ingredient was chosen by Megane and
is a personal favorite of his. They were personally shipped from a
local Chinese Restaurant near his home because of their unique size. I
unveil the final ingredient!>"
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.
"<And now, ladies and gentlemen! The Chicken Cannon!>"
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 <Bert.Miller@unisys.com>
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Dojo/5058/
Brian Randall <durandall@rakhal.com>
David 'Fido' Linquist <fido@rmaonline.net>
http://www.fortunecity.com/victorian/rothko/228/fidolibrary.htm
Gary Kleppe <gary@garykleppe.org>
http://www.garykleppe.org/comics.html
Ginrai <ranmafics@hotmail.com>
Jonathan 'Chibi-Joan' Rosbaugh <skip@plover.net>
LaShawn Wanak <tbone_m_jenkins@yahoo.com>
Megane 6.7 <megane67@rogers.com>
http://www.nabiki.com/mst
Rakhal <ranma@rakhal.com>
http://www.rakhal.com
Rylan 'Dannycat' Hilman <rhiruman@hotmail.com>
Scott 'Zoogz' Jamison <zoogz@yahoo.com>
http://www.nabiki.com/mst
Steve 'Nightman' Cornett <cornetts@siscom.net>
Ukyou Kuonji <ucchans@ameritech.net>
Unseen <031537@comcast.net>
The CB Awards Homepages: http://www.rakhal.com/cb/cbvote.html
http://www.thekeep.org/~harnums/CB/
Chickenball Home
Megane 6.7 Pages
A MSTing For All Seasons homepage