The Bootay Hotness Laba-Laba Awards

Just a hint of tongue... 

Lordie, Lordie, whose idea was this topic?? It’s the kind of idea that just makes me start out snickering and ends with me rolling on the carpet, laughing, with my dog thinking I’m having a seizure and need mouth-to-mouth. Or make that mouth-to-tongue, which ain’t at all sexy…and not just because I’m not into girls!

Having gotten myself under control, I came up with a few awards I’d like to hand out, with apologies to the innocent, guilty and those upset by my total lack of political correctness.

To do the honors, I’ll pass you over to Simon Growell, who’s announcing the annual Bootay Hotness Laba-Laba* Awards winners and briefly interviewing them.

Take it away, Simon, and try to be nice.

Simon:             Thank you, Anya. Although you blackmailed me into this job, I’ll not call you bitch, or harridan, or—

Anya:               That’s enough, Simon. Just get on with it, do.

Simon:             (sighing) Yes, of course. Ladies and Gentlemen, the first award of the night is the “I Wish I’d Written FSoG. Oh, wait, I did!” The nominees are too numerous to mention, but the winner is…Stephenie M.!

S.M.:                There’s been some mistake…

Simon:             Nope, I’m afraid not.

S.M.:                This is a travesty—

Simon:             I agree, on many different levels. On to the next (gives Ms. M a bit of a shove off the stage). Next we have the “Just Keep Coming Back” award, for longevity against the tide of irrelevance. And the award goes to…Janet D.!

J.D.:                Me? Oh, my! (kisses the trophy) I’d like to thank all my fans, and the great Queen Nora—

Simon:             (wrestling the microphone away) Cheeky, that, Janet. Very cheeky. Now, on to one of my personal favorites, the “These Twats are Just Jealous” Award. This year, we’re pleased to be able to combine it with the “I Wasn’t Seeking Attention” Award into one magnificent accolade to Diva-ism at its finest. (looks around with a smirk, just as there’s a small flurry of excitement in front of the stage. A woman comes up and grabs the award from Simon.)

Simon:             Well now, how do you know it’s yours?

E.L.J.:              I won’t say it again—Stop. Talking. About. My. Book. (marches off, as Simon begins to laugh hysterically. Eventually Simon picks himself off the floor and wipes his eyes.

Simon:             And now we’ve come to the moment we’ve all been waiting for. The apex of the evening—the Cuckoo-Cray-Cray Crowd Award! This is the first year we’ve had such a wonderful array of rabidity to choose from but, even with all the insanity, the award has to go to—select fans of Charlaine Harris. Apparently some of them are so upset Ms. Harris is ending the Sookie Stackhouse series after thirteen novels and umpteen novellas set in the Sookieverse, there have been death threats issued against the author. (looks at the card, eyebrows raised) Perhaps we should have called this one the “Get a Life” Award?

(a shot rings out, and Simon crumples to the ground, as a voice rings out, "Bon Temps FOREVER!!!")

*'Laba-Laba' is gossiping incessantly in Jamaican patois