Awards Show!

I am facing a dilemma.

Nina Pennington is standing in front of the mirror practicing her Oscar acceptance speech for her role in Behaving Badly the movie that was genetically mutated from my autobiography While I’m Dead… Feed the Dog. Nina has decided to go for the gut-wrenching heartwarming motif – and has concocted a story about how she drew her inspiration from her dying mother’s stoic battle with breast cancer and how she got down on her knees and promised God she would suffer through a wardrobe malfunction on national television if He would restore her mother to health.

My dilemma is as follows. Do I tell her that they have fact checkers who will find out that her mother doesn’t have breast cancer and instead has a case of gonorrhea contracted from her banging my drummer Bam after an all night bout of speedballs and Jägermeister shots – or do I tell her that she is wasting her time because her performance was so wooden that I’m now afraid to have sex with her lest I get splinters in my penis – or do I offer encouragement because her flashing a bit of nipple would be far more interesting than watching two hours of a bunch of celebrities congratulating themselves for having hired a publicist good enough to get enough people to overlook the fact that they are self-indulgent drug addled pompous assholes and vote for them?

I’ve ruled out option two because she still has her father’s black American Express card and finally after a long internal debate I am leaning towards option three, because this way I’ll look more like an optimist than a killjoy and besides you can never have enough tits on prime time television especially when they are the result of Divine debt fulfillment.

“How am I doing?” Nina asks, “Do you think I’ve got the sincerity thing down, or should I put some pepper on the back of my hand and rub it in my eyes and cry?”

“You know if you cry, people will think you are sensitive and then you’ll get typecast and you’ll spend the rest of your life either as a televangelist’s sidekick like Tammy Faye Bakker, or doing infomercials for starving kids and homeless pets and you’ll have Sarah McLachlan songs whining in the background. I don’t know if those things pay enough so you can afford all the industrial strength waterproof mascara you’re going to need. So I recommend practicing harder on the wardrobe malfunction. Why don’t you put on the black patent leather corset, the elbow length gloves, the knee high boots and…”

Before I can finish my fashion guidance the phone rings and Nina quickly picks it up.

“Hello?…. Hi Hollywood… Oh My God! Me?… Several categories?… Clean Sweep? They like me – they really like me!!! Ric too?”

*              *                 *

I’m in the backseat of a stretch limousine dressed in a fucking rental tuxedo that makes me look queer and set me back $125 or about five times the total box office of Behaving Badly. But I don’t care. I’m too busy working putting the finishing touches on my acceptance speech.   I’m going for the short and sweet. “Thank you all for making this all possible and now that I’m a certified star all women who still have all their teeth and want to have sex with me have my permission as long as they don’t have any boyfriends who have had recurring roles on Lockup.”

The driver has the all news radio station on and they are doing a story on the Academy awards. Brian Savage is reporting live at the Dolby Theatre in Hollywood. “Crowds have already started forming for tomorrow night’s Oscars…”

“Wait a second,” I panic. “He said the show’s tomorrow. I can’t afford to keep this tuxedo a second day much less take a second day off from my job delivering pizzas! And how much is this limo costing us?”

“Relax, Hollywood said he’s reimbursing us for the limo, and I’m sure the award show is tonight.   They must show it on tape delay,” Nina reassures me

“Tape delay? You mean I can find out all the winners and then place a bet with Frankie the Gaspipe before the show airs and everyone knows?” I’m excited about the prospect of winning some bucks.

“Hollywood already told us who won,” Nina replies, “and we know we made a clean sweep so let’s bet the farm.”

“Okay.” I pull out my iPhone and call Frankie the Gaspipe.   “Hi Frankie, what’s the line on the Academy Awards Best Picture?”

“Let me see, I can get you Captain America at 3 to 1, The Lego Movie at 4 to 1…”

“What about Behaving Badly?”

“I don’t even have to look it up. It’s a suckers bet 10,000 -1.”

“Sucker bet,” I snicker. “I’ll tell you what, I’m going to lay my entire life savings on Behaving Badly, I’m talking the whole $72.39 and will you take two coupons for $2.00 off any toppings at Papa Johns?”

“It’s a bet!”

*                                  *                      *

The limo slows down and I look out the window. We’re not in Hollywood, but instead we’re outside a small theater in Santa Monica called Magicopolis.   “Driver I think you’ve made a mistake. We’re supposed to be going to the awards show.”

“This is the awards show. Go on in, they’re all waiting for you.”

There’s a red carpet, but I’m a little uneasy as I walk up it as there are only two photographers, a dude in an Iron Maiden t-shirt, and two homeless guys pushing shopping carts that they stole from Ralph’s.

“Maybe we’re too late,” Nina brushes back a tear as an usher opens the door for us, “I haven’t even had time to flash my…”

As soon as we enter the theater spotlights blind us. “Don’t worry, enjoy the moment. This is your day. Just stick to me and I’ll get you to your front row table,” the usher yells over the applause, while Nina’s engineers a wardrobe malfunction dropping a strap so her left boob is in view.

The curtain rises as we sit down at a table occupied by Hollywood and Roger Debris, and a man in a tuxedo and tennis shoes comes out and grabs the microphone. “In the history of our awards show we have never had anything like this year’s results. I apologize to everybody but it’s going to be a short show tonight because one movie not only racked up a nomination for every category – but actually won each one.   I am proud on behalf to award your 2014 Razzie for the worst actress, the worst director, the worst screenplay, the worst picture, the worst Rip-Off of a good book, and the worst musical score to, Nina Pennington, Roger Debris and their original minor motion picture Behaving Badly.


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