Dr. Batorious (announcing): Presenting the award for Most Informative Website, please give it up for Trackball!

::More than polite applause issues from the audience as a female mouse with light brown hair and glasses maneuvers her wheelchair from Stage Left. Cut to: Gadget and Chip, in audience::

Chip: I'm glad Widget's getting to sit this one out. She seemed to be getting...(awkward silence as he realizes he's talking about Gadget's sister)...she seemed to be getting tired.

Gadget: I think she's freaking out.

Chip: Oh.

::Cut to the stage, close on the podium. Trackball maneuvers behind it and turns towards the audience. The podium is about level with the top of her head. All we can see of her are her ears protruding beyond both sides of the podium. There is a moment of awkward silence, and then her hand snatches the microphone from the top of the podium, to vanish behind it.::

Trackball: First, I'd like to thank the Academy for this opportunity to
increase the visibility of disabled mice.

::Cut to: Chip and Gadget in the audience. Gadget purses her lips and stands up to walk away.::

Gadget: Pardon me.

::Cut to: the podium, Trackball invisible behind it.::

Trackball: This award is for the most informative website.

::Offstage, we hear sawing and hammering.::

Trackball: This is an important award, because fandom is centered around the creation of information. Information is not merely power; information is the stuff of life itself.

::There is a sharp snap from offstage. A backdrop of Paris from a production of  “A Tale of Two Cities” unfurls and slams to the stage floor with a hollow boom and a muffled "Golly!"::

::Cut to: Audience. Widget has walked up behind Chip. She taps his shoulder, and whispers discretely into his ear.::

Widget: I'll go check.

Chip: Thank you.

::Widget walks off. When she is gone, Chip turns to Monterey, worry in his expression.::

Chip: Is it wrong of me to feel relieved?

::Monterey considers, and shakes his head.::

::Cut to: Trackball, still invisible behind the podium.::

Trackball: As an Internet service provider, I am well aware of the importance of the information which binds the fandom together.

::There is a loud "thunk" from offstage, and a basket lands next to the podium. It tips over, and an obviously fake head rolls out and off the stage::

Widget (from offstage): Too much speed, and not enough force.

Gadget (from offstage): Block and tackle should fix both.

Trackball: The free exchange of information has forged a little community unbounded by geography and age, united only by a common interest in an old cartoon.

::Pull back. Gadget and Widget push an extraordinary device from out of the wings. It appears to be a cross between a guillotine and a forklift with a large number of leg irons at the base. They maneuver it behind Trackball, who appears not to notice as Widget gets to work behind the podium with the leg irons while Gadget stands with her hand on a lanyard::

Trackball: And here we honor the Most Informative website with its role in keeping the community together.

::Gadget jerks the lanyard. The blade drops, pulling a block and tackle arrangement, which lifts Trackball slowly from the floor. When the blade hits bottom, Trackball's head has been lifted from behind the podium.::

Trackball: And the winner is Matt Plotecher, for The RR Database!


::The applause continues on for a little bit, but nobody steps out from  behind the curtain. The camera cuts back to the presenter, who looks about wonderingly at first, and then reacts as a slender hand taps her on the head from above. She flinches a bit as she looks upward and Victoria gracefully lowers herself down fully into the camera's view. The applause having died at her arrival, she takes a few moments to soak in the silence with a smirk of knowing and amusement before leaning forward and gently whispering into the microphone::


 Victoria: As someone who fully understands the value of maintaining a web of strength, intelligence, and cunning, I will accept this Golden Acorn award on behalf of Matt. Thank you dears, ever so much.


::She blows a kiss to the quiet crowd, gathers up the award, and slinks up her silken strand back to the dark shadows high above. Gadget and Widget lower Trackball, who motors over to wave to the crowd, then maneuvers offstage to the left::