Most Mischievous Imp Silmaril Winner!

At last it is time to announce this year’s winner! Your host today is none other than the mischievous imp of Lord of the Rings, Peregrin Took (aka Pippin) himself! Come on stage, Pippin!

*the stage lights turn on, and a small figure shuffles across to the center of the stage. The lights reveal a beard, and wrinkles, and…wait, why is there an old man here?*

“Oh, excuse me, do excuse me. I hope I wasn’t too late, was I?”

*I stare at the unusual old man for a moment.*

“Well, we were expecting Pippin. I don’t suppose you know where he is?”

“Ah, well sure I do! He’s standing right before your eyes.”

“Huh?”

*The old man chucks off his beard, and the skin around his face peels off, revealing a younger and more recognizable facade underneath.*

“How did you like my little joke there? Clever, yes? Heeheehee!”

“Pippin, why would you disguise yourself as a… Nevermind. We’re wasting time here. Take the Silmaril and go present it.”

*Pippin takes the award and grins to the awaiting audience.*

“Can’t take a fun joke, that lass, can she? Well, let’s get about this fantastic business then, shall we, ladies and gents? As you all know, I’m from Middle Earth, and have come here to honor this special event The Silmarillion Awards. Being the genius imp that I am, I was given the honor to bestow this year’s Most Mischievous Imp Silmaril to the worthy winner!”

*Pippin takes out a fabulously decorated envelope. Opens it. Pauses while he reads with his forehead heavily creased.*

“And that worthy winner is…”

*dramatic pause*

“The Weasley twins!”

*wild applause from audience.*

“Step forward, you impish twins, and take your shiny award!”

“Wow, that’s shiny! You could go blind from that. Anywho, twins? Where are you, twins?”

*There’s sounds of movement, and then two horses that are obviously fake plod onto the stage.*

“You’re joking, right? Wearing a disguise was my idea,” Pippin mutters.

*The horses neigh, and one opens its mouth wide and takes the Silmaril.*

“You could at least show your faces to the audience. They’re the ones who voted for you, you know!”

“Neigh!”

“Neigh as in ‘no’ neigh, or horse neigh?”

“Neigh, neigh!”

“Oh for the love of Longbottom Leaf, take that silly disguise off!”

*Pippin grabs both horses by the ears and yanks them off hard… Only, they don’t come off. The ears don’t move. The fur stays on. And the horses suddenly look very real, and glare very angry eyes at him.*

“NEIGH!”

“Ahhhhhh!”

*Pippin runs off stage, followed by two stampeding horses, dodging their flawing hooves.*

*The stage is now empty, until two figures slink forward from the shadows.*

“Now that’s how you do an awards show!” says Fred Weasley. “Start with humor, amusement,”

“Leading into trickery and deciet,” says George Weasley.

“With a chaotic finale,”

“And lots of flare!”

“Fun for everyone,” says the twins as one with a grin.

*I rush back up on stage.* “It’s not fun for Pippin, I’m sure. Here, take your Silmaril, and go stop those horses.” *I hand over the Silmaril I’d saved from one of the horses before it could eat it.*

“Don’t get your nickers in a twist, Rawls. Pippin is doing fine,” says Fred.

“See how fast he’s running? He has the spirit of a cheetah!” says George.

“We ought to enter him in the next horse race. I’d bet we win,” says Fred.

“Brilliant idea!” says George.

“Enough! Go save him!”

*I turn to the audience while the Weasley twins casually make their way off stage, hopefully to help the fleeing Pippin.*

“Those two are worse than mischievous imps, if you ask… Anyways, to bring this ceremony to an end, I’d like to mention the runners up who did not win this award but who certainly deserve our applause. And they are:

Peter Pan, from the tale of Peter Pan
Walter from Dragons In Our Midst
Loki from Norse Mythology, and
Puck from Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Thank you all for participating in this fantastic event, and we hope to see you again at next year’s Silmarillion Awards! *waves*

*Pippin rushes past, diving behind the stage curtains, as the two horses lunge after him.*

“That’s it, hobbit chap, keep running!” says Fred.

“And don’t look back. It always ends badly whenever you pause to look back,” says George.

“How would you feel about entering the upcoming Royal Ascot horse race? We’ll give you a fair share of the winnings!”