RACCIES: 2014 (21st Annual) RACCies Ceremony (1/3)

[Scott Eiler]

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                            PART 1 OF 3!
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Vester Lockram of Brass Team Alpha looked sideways at the rest of her 
team.  "I think this new team might just work out."

She looked back toward the new recruits.  They were all women with 
swords.  About half were six to seven feet tall, with armor - somewhat 
like Vester herself, only *her* armor was powered.  The other women were 
mostly shorter, and dressed for fencing with rapiers.

Vester looked again toward her technician, a tall East Asian man. 
"Alpha, can the new team all talk together?"

"Hey, our new translation system got them here!"

The tall women all raised their swords and yelled, "Come, Meet Your 
Death Or Bring Me Mine!"

The shorter women were led by one dressed more like the tall women, in 
armor and a broadsword.  She said calmly, "I am Zenobia.  I have lived 
in your modern Earth, and I know its rules.  My part of the team shall 
patrol with theirs."  She turned to a seven-foot-tall woman among the 
others.  "You *have* sworn loyalty to at least this operation, have you 
not??"

"I have sworn, as my name is Quasha!  *Never* shall I break *this* oath!"

Quasha looked at her lieutenant.  ""I have sworn, as my name is Danalee!"

They looked at the others.  They all said, "I have sworn!"

... Well, *mostly* all.  Zenobia noticed one who did not.

...

At the other end of the assemblage, Ress contemplated her options. 
She'd shown bravery in battle, and been acknowledged a full Daughter of 
Mars.  This path showed great potential, even to become the Imperiatrix.

She'd found a tracker to identify creatures from dread Venus, and a 
weapon supposed to disrupt the Venusian minerals in their biology so as 
to slay them.  Surely in an assemblage this size with such weird 
creatures, one would be from Venus.  Even if it were not her *own* 
Venus, each Venus would have the same minerals.  She would slay the 
creature from ambush, and gain final glory before ruling the Daughters 
of Mars.

                  .....oooooOOOOO(*)OOOOOooooo.....

The ceremony started.

                      o  o  o  o  o  o  o
               o  o  o     The  2014     o  o  o
         o  o  o  o   -->(21st Annual)<--   o  o  o  o
               o  o  o  RACCie  AWARDS!  o  o  o
                      o  o  o  o  o  o  o

Loudspeakers said, "Welcome to the best amateur comics awards on the 
Internet - or at least the oldest!  THESE ARE THE TWENTY-FIRST ANNUAL 
RACCIES!"  There was polite clapping.

The curtain went up on the house band, at Stage Left.  Two male singers 
stood front:  one large and heavy-metallish, one normal-height with a 
mohawk.  One woman in a tight silver full-body costume drummed.  One man 
in 90's-style mask and commando outfit played a jade flute.  One 
androgynous deejay in white, pink and purple ran a mix station.  And a 
green-skinned alien being with long bright orange hair played electric 
guitar.  The instrumentalists played a flourish, as the singers sang 
"Ohhhh Yeah!"

The loudspeaker continued.  "We introduce our backing band:  Imperilus, 
John Revolta, Tanya from Body Up, Ultimate Mercenary, Mashup Laq, and 
the Alien Beast!  You see they come from all walks of life.  This year's 
RACCies will be a rich and culturally-inclusive ceremony, led by a 
caring emcee.  A spiritual man.  A man famous for working with all 
religions.  Ladies and gentlemen, we bring you our Master of 
Ceremonies... Philippe St. Joseph Lateran!"

                  .....oooooOOOOO(*)OOOOOooooo.....

A rounded, bronze woman looked over Alpha Brown's shoulder at the 
monitors.  "This presenter isn't popular.  I can see from the audience. 
  Status report!"

Alpha looked back.  "Well, Floy, one pair-patrol is escorting a drunk 
girl from the dressing rooms.  Another is slapping down a fat guy in a 
t-shirt toward the back of the stands.  Everyone else is reporting normal."

                  .....oooooOOOOO(*)OOOOOooooo.....

The Master of Ceremonies was a short man in a fancy suit and a handlebar 
mustache.  He walked to the microphone and shrugged.  "You ask me to 
judge your popular culture.  I judge it decrepit."

The audience grumbled.  Lateran continued.  "I shall of course have 
ample opportunity to go into detail.  So let us proceed."

Lateran was about to say something else, except the band started.  Their 
lead singer sang... "Oh I Love R!  Oh I Love R-A!  Oh Yes I'm Loving 
R-A-C-C-I-E-S!  And My H-E-A-R-T Is Filled With R-A-C-C-I-E-S And I Am 
Gonna Host the R-A-C-C-I-E-S!"

"... Whaaat?"  Lateran walked over toward the band.

"Oh Yes It's R, And Now It's R-A, And Now It's %@&!ing R-A-C-C-I-E-S..." 
  The lead singer looked down at Lateran.  "What *you* want, prick?"

Lateran looked back up.  "Gjallar Johanssen.  You have always been like 
a wayward nephew to me.  I want you to know I am *duly appointed* 
tonight.  I *am* the Maître des Cérémonies."

"And I want *you* to know yer a *prick!*"  The lead singer looked to the 
audience.  "Am I right?"

The audience cheered.

"And yer prick powers won't work on me!"  Gjallar gloated.  "So you 
wanna leave, or you wanna kiss my @$$?"

Lateran shrugged.  "Whatever.  I relieve myself of your hideous popular 
culture festival."  He walked off stage.

"Well, ALL RIGHT!"  The band played a flourish and the audience cheered 
again, as the singer walked to the podium.

"The prick introduced me for ya!  You can call me Gjallar Johanssen!  Or 
Imperilus!  Or Exterminating Son!  People call me a lot of things!  But 
whatever else they say about me, I *ain't no prick!*"  The band 
flourished again, and the deputy lead singer John Revolta sang "Oh 
Yeahhh!"  The audience applauded.

                  .....oooooOOOOO(*)OOOOOooooo.....

At the monitors, Floy Vonholt twitched.  "New records coming up from our 
research...  Oh, God!  The flute in the band is a *cosmic* flute!  And 
*both* these emcees are known war criminals in their home universe!  How 
did they even get this far into the ceremony?  And why are people even 
working with them?"

Alpha grinned at the monitors.  "You should see the presenters."

"Oh no.  Alpha Brown, prepare to activate Brass Team Alpha Security 
Measure Alpha!  ... Did I really say that?"

"You did."

"Well, I *meant* it!  Prepare Alpha!  And get Beta ready in reserve!"

Vester tapped Floy on the shoulder.  "Floy.  I trust you as always.  But 
this is a different place.  Be ready on vocal override command Brass 
Team Alpha Security Measure Null to stand all these measures down."

"Yes, sir.  But still...  Brass Team Alpha Security Measure Go!"

                  .....oooooOOOOO(*)OOOOOooooo.....

Gjallar Johanssen gestured in froo-froo manner, and said in outrageous 
accent, "As your *new* Maître des Cérémonies, I say..."  Then he pumped 
his fists.  "ON WITH THE SHOW!"  The band rocked out.

"First, we got:  RACC14, FAVORITE REVIEW TITLE!  Presented by... Jet Age 
Pigeon??"  The emcee looked on in disbelief, as a large pigeon with 
scarf and goggles flapped to the podium.  The band played a riff from 
the Tiger Rag, while John Revolta sang, "Stop That Pigeon!"

The pigeon said in a chirpy voice, "Thank you.  I come to you from the 
1950s, the Golden Age of Animal Heroes.  As you might imagine, I'm not 
familiar with your modern culture.  That's why I rely on reviewers to 
show me the good stuff.  I hear your group has two review titles:  Kid 
Review's Roundup, and the Catalog of Earths.  Let's find out which one's 
your favorite!"

He opened the envelope with his beak.  "Oooh, they both are!  But one of 
them *is* the runner-up...  Catalog of Earths!  Your winner is Kid 
Review's Roundup!"

The display showed:  "RACC14, FAVORITE REVIEW TITLE:  Kid Review's 
Roundup!  Runner-Up:  Catalog of Earths 2014!  (Awards accepted by Lady 
Review and the Hyper-Piper of Hypergaard)"

Two people walked to the podium.  The first was a normal young woman, 
wearing orange tunic and silver medieval breeches.  The second was an 
ageless long-black-haired angular man, only with extra angles somehow. 
The first stood aside, and gestured for the second to go to the 
microphone.  And so he did...

"Thank you.  I am the hyper-being known as the Hyper-Piper.  I review 
your heroes because I have some experience with them, more than you will 
ever know.  This always works out best when I stand in the background as 
they fight the glorious battles.  It pleases me no end to do so again 
today."  He turned to the woman.  "It seems Kid Review sent his 
companion to accept the award.  So I bring you your hero, Lady Review!" 
  The audience clapped loudly.

Lady Review stepped to the microphone.  "Thank you, everyone.  From what 
I've seen, Kid Review loves his job and he won't stop any time soon." 
As she stepped away, people clapped again.

                  .....oooooOOOOO(*)OOOOOooooo.....

"Right!  Next, RACC17, BEST DISCUSSION!  Presented by... *Cool!* 
Charlie the Cabbie of Death!"

The band played "If You're Happy And You Know It..."  John Revolta sang 
the verse, "If you're happy and you know it, pray for Death!  Yay, Death!"

Two cabbies came to the stage.  One said, "Oh, damnation.  They confused 
me with Ron the Cabbie from Hell again."

The other said, "Got it.  I hate that too.  Where's the pub?"

Gjallar said, "Drinks for my friends backstage!"

"I *like* you!"  Ron the Cabbie walked off stage.

Charlie the Cabbie said, "I shall join him soon.  But first...  You have 
a runner-up, which is Mind Control.  Your winner is, High Concept 
Challenges.  People are sometimes reluctant to accept gifts from Death, 
so I'll just leave their awards on the podium."  Charlie followed Ron.

The display showed, "RACC17, BEST DISCUSSION:  High Concept Challenges! 
  Runner-Up:  Mind Control!  (Awards accepted by Michael Moriarty and 
Stephen Wolcott)"

Two middle-aged scientists walked to the podium:  one in a 
techno-jumpsuit, one in white clothing head-to-toe except for a yellow 
jacket.  The first said to the second, "Maybe you should speak first."

He said, "Understood..."  Without a microphone, his voice amplified as 
an energy field activated around his head.  "I am indeed Stephen 
Wolcott."  Then the entire audience got a mental message.  "But you 
would know me better as Ellipsis."  He switched back to voice.  "Unlike 
*some* within this assembly, I do not specialize in mind control. 
However, I know something of it."  He looked at the Hyper-Piper, in the 
Nominee section near the stage.  The Piper smirked back.

Ellipsis turned back to the audience, and continued, "But the important 
thing for this award is not the phenomenon, but the discussion thereof. 
  As with any scientific discussion, suffice it that I enjoyed 
contributing.  Now allow me to introduce your winner."

The other said into the microphone, "You know me?"

"You know yourself.  I could not avoid learning..."  Ellipsis turned 
back to the audience.  "Michael Moriarty is one of your Forgotten Men, a 
winner of your first High Concept Challenge."

Mr. Moriarty shrugged.  "You aren't the first to find out.  But if you 
remember it tomorrow, you *will* be the first to do *that*.  The other 
Forgotten Ones have been *so* forgotten, I presume they couldn't even be 
found for the ceremony.  But at least we all led to *something* that 
people still remember today."  He held his award high.  "Thank you, 
RACCies!"

                  .....oooooOOOOO(*)OOOOOooooo.....

"Next:  RACC18, FAVORITE RUNNING GAG!  Presented by Dark Kid Enthusiastic!"

The band played and John Revolta sang, "I'm a loser, baby, why don't you 
kill me..."

A teenager walked to the stage, wearing a faded black T-shirt showing 
the words "Slaughter County Brewing Company", and black pajama pants. 
Gjallar said, "Hey, kid, I like yer style."

"Whatever."

"... Ain't you supposed to be enthusiastic or something?"

"Yeah, maybe... for darkness and death and stuff."

"Well, okay!  Yer *my* kind of enthusiastic!"  The band played a riff 
from Chopin's Funeral March.  "Enjoy the running gags then!"

"Whatever..."  Dark Kid Enthusiastic opened the envelope.  "You have a 
runner-up gag.  It's adorable kid heroes.  Oh, gag *me*."  He made a 
gagging motion.  "And the winner is, an LNH comic being late."  He 
shrugged.  "Now *that's* a running gag."

The display showed:  "RACC18, FAVORITE RUNNING GAG:  LNH v2 #50 Coming 
Out Two Years Late!  Runner-Up:  Adorable Kid Versions of Adult Heroes 
in Powernaut 1969!  (Accepted by Toony Stork and Wyatt Ferguson)"

A grown man with a goatee, holding what looked like a glass of whiskey 
on the rocks, got to the microphone first.  He said, "Well, excuse us 
for being late.  But we were in time to save the universe.  As Irony 
Man, I know that's what the Legion of Net.Heroes does!"  Clapping came 
from the LNH galleries.

A little boy with long hair and a wide-brimmed hat climbed the steps to 
the stage more slowly.  The man looked at the boy and said, "Well, 
that's ironic.  Have I ever told you all about the time I got turned 
into Teen Toony?"  The audience was silent.  "Ah, it probably got 
retconned anyway."

"Yeah, the old Retcon gag since we're talking about gags," said Dark Kid 
Enthusiastic.

Toony responded, "Enthusiastic, I think I like you better this way." 
Then he turned the other way, as Li'l Wyatt tugged on Toony's sleeve. 
"Hey, kid, what do you want?"

Wyatt said, "Gee, mister, that drink looks cool 'n' refreshing.  C'n I 
have a taste?"

Dark Kid Enthusiastic suddenly turned enthusiastic.  "Oh, I love this 
one!  It's the I Love Booze gag!"

Toony responded, "What, for *this* old gag you're suddenly enthusiastic 
again?"

"Well, if we're *really* lucky someone will get drunk, have an accident, 
and be horribly maimed!"

"Uh, yeah, wouldn't *that* be ironic."

Gjallar yelled, "Keep it movin', guys!  Kid!  No, not you!  *Dark* Kid! 
  Give 'em their awards already!"

"Okay.  Here."  Dark Kid Enthusiastic shoved the awards at Toony and 
Wyatt.  They each looked at the titles, and then silently swapped as the 
presenter said, "Well, excuse me for getting you two confused."

Li'l Wyatt smirked as he said, "I c'n give you one way to tell us 
'part."  His face covered over with a death's head mask.

Dark Kid Enthusiastic goggled and exclaimed, "Cool!  Can I get your 
autograph?"

Gjallar snickered.  "Hey, Dark Kid.  Y'know yer acting like a groupie 
over a *cute kid hero*, right?"

"Right!  A cute kid hero of *Death!*"

"Well, if yer fawning over cuteness *and* death, don't ya have to be 
darkness *and* light?"

"Hmmm...  I do!"  Dark Kid Enthusiastic started shimmering.  His Gothic 
black clothes turned into white beach pants and a white LNH t-shirt. 
Kid Enthusiastic was back.

Toony said, "Oh, I think I'll miss the Dark Kid."  He raised his glass 
in a toast, then took a sip.

                  .....oooooOOOOO(*)OOOOOooooo.....

"Now:  THE DOCTOR STOMPER BRONZE BOOT FOR EXCELLENCE IN EXPOSITION! 
Presented by, uh, a nameless woman from Monster Bee World!"

The band played a peppy Blondie song and John Revolta sang, "Giant bees 
from space, snuff the human race, la la la la la, la la la la la!"

A woman stomped up to the microphone.  She said, "It's not Monster Bee 
World.  And I Have A Name."

"Oh, yeah?  What is it then?"

"Sybilla!  ... No, that's not it!  What's going on?"

"I bet yer about to find out!  But could ya get the award done first?"

"Uh...  Okay, this award is, I don't know, some kind of boot expo. 
There's one runner-up, Nonfiction #4.  And there's one winner, 
Nonfiction #3."

The display showed:  "THE DOCTOR STOMPER BRONZE BOOT FOR EXCELLENCE IN 
EXPOSITION:  Nonfiction #3 (The New War)!  Runner-Up:  Nonfiction #4 
(Top Five Explanations for Ranovia)!  (Accepted by the Pulse Collective 
and Baron von Ranov)"

A large man with a small crown, an opera cape, and a big red mustache 
walked toward the podium.  But a hologram of thousands of tiny 
indistinguishable faces appeared there first.  It said, "Earthlings, 
your offense against us is not yet resolved."

The man yelled back, "Enemies of Earth!  Ranovia stands against you!  So 
sayeth Baron von Ranov!"

Gjallar Johanssen over-yelled them all.  "Whatever!  Do you want yer 
awards or not?"

The Baron said, "Yes, please."  The aliens said, "It is our due."

The woman handed them their awards.  Then a giant bee carried her off.

                  .....oooooOOOOO(*)OOOOOooooo.....

Ress had found one creature from Venus in the assembly.  He was on 
stage, with the band!

She needed freedom to act.  She knocked out her Earthling companion, 
with a blow to the back to the neck.

                  .....oooooOOOOO(*)OOOOOooooo.....

Gjallar continued, "Now here's a cute one.  It's THE "SPIDER SPINS!" 
LITTLE LULU WEB PAGE AWARD!  So we got a cute presenter!  I introduce to 
you Narok, King of Dragons, Destroyer of Heavens, For Whom All the Stars 
Of Our Galaxy Are Like Specks Upon His Tail!"

The ceiling broke open.  So did the skies.  The Galaxy unfurled, and 
took the shape of a dragon.  That dragon spoke in a voice like thunder.

"I greet you, sir, for I am come here now.
Be it now known, I come to you to judge.
Your finest writings stand before me here.
And here and now shall judgment 'pon them fall."

Brass Team Alpha manned the security monitors.  Floy asked, "Security 
Measure Alpha?"

Vester responded, "I guess that's safe."

"Alpha Go!" Alpha Brown pressed a button.

Everyone in the auditorium got seat-belted.  The stage slid inward and 
the seats slid up, row by row, to stack atop each other.  The outside 
hallways uncoiled into arms and legs.  The security control room slid up 
to form the head.  The stadium stood erect, transformed into a giant robot.

People cheered.  The dragon just looked down.

"Oh, please.  I bid you cease before you fail.
Because I come in judgment, doom to give.
Or glory for a few fine chosen ones."

In the control room, Alpha asked, "What now, Floy??"  And Floy asked, 
"What now, Vester?"

But the band had its own idea.  It started playing "Pop Goes the Weasel" 
on flute and xylophone and deejay mix.  John Revolta sang...

"Half a pound of really cheap rice,
Half a pound of Crisco..."

The dragon turned and noticed a barrier behind it.  It flamed and 
bellowed in rage, but the barrier held and expanded to a cube around it.

"That's the way the dragon gets caged,
Pop goes the dragon!"

The dragon-constellation disappeared.  A small jack-in-the-box dropped 
onto the podium.

Gjallar Johanssen ran to the band, and high-fived the Ultimate 
Mercenary.  "Dude!"

"Oh, man!  The flute worked!"  The Ultimate Mercenary turned toward 
Tanya the drummer.  "But the Jade Xylophone helped too!"

Tanya raised two xylophone sticks, with an vengeful glint in her eye.

Gjallar said, "Riiight.  But we got an award to give.  I think only our 
presenter has the envelope.  And *that* was the dragon.  How we gonna 
get that done?"

Ultimate Mercenary said, "Try turning the crank on that jack-in-the-box."

"<snort>  Excellent!"  Gjallar went back to the podium and turned the 
crank.  The jack-in-the-box said...

"<ahem> RACC has made the ballots all count,
"<ahem> And now we have a winner.
"<ahem> The Runner-Up's the Eyrie Archive,
"<ahem> The LNH Wiki wins it!"

The display showed:  "SPIDER SPINS / LITTLE LULU WEB PAGE AWARD:  LNH 
Wiki!  Runner-Up:  Eyrie Archive!  (Awards accepted by Wiki Boy and FAQ 
Boy)"

Wiki Boy and FAQ Boy took the podium together.  "You know I don't 
actually run the Wiki, I just have Wiki powers, right?"

FAQ Boy said, "*I* know."

"Okay then.  I'm in awe of the people who *do* run the Wiki, because 
Wiki powers are an awesome thing.  Thanks!"

FAQ Boy said, "And *I'm* glad people appreciate the FAQ still.  Thanks!"

... The jack-in-the-box disappeared.  Gjallar said, "Huh?"

Ultimate Mercenary said, "Even the Flute couldn't hold him long.  He had 
his own fate somewhere else."

Tanya played and John Revolta sang, "Pop Goes the Dragon!"

Gjallar said, "... Hey, was that all really all over some LNH fact page 
and some archive?"

Ultimate Mercenary said, "Hey, if you're *lucky* cosmic forces don't 
care what *you* do.  You probably best not care what *they* do."

Gjallar said, "Got it."  Tanya played a drum riff.

                  .....oooooOOOOO(*)OOOOOooooo.....
                          NEXT:  PART 2 OF 3!
                  .....oooooOOOOO(*)OOOOOooooo.....
-- 
(signed) Scott Eiler  8{D> -------- http://www.eilertech.com/ ---------

When you *are* the leader... whatever goes wrong... whether you did it
or not... *you* are held responsible. - Barack Obama

I know. - Archie Andrews

- from Archie #617, March 2011, scripted by Alex Simmons.