Announcer: And now, to announce the winner of the Best Silmarillion Award, please welcome: Legolas of the Woodland Realm, and Gimli, son of Gloin!

The crowd roars as the pair descends the staircase—Gimli wearing a tunic and trousers of deep blue velvet trimmed with golden lace; Legolas an ethereal vision in a robe of delicately tinted silk, skin-tight leggings, and knee-high leather boots.

Morgoth: Is that a girl?

Sauron: I think it’s a dwarf, boss.

Morgoth (slapping Sauron across the back of the head): I know that’s a dwarf, idiot. I mean the one in the lilac frock…

Legolas (standing at the lectern): If there is one book in the Tolkien canon that separates the women from the girls…

Gimli: And if there is one true test of a great fan fiction writer, it’s—

Legolas (under his breath): What a vision! What a golden-haired beauty!

Gimli (screwing up his eyes and peering at the various elves in the audience): Glorfindel is valiant, lad, but I wouldn’t call him a beauty…

Legolas: Not Glorfindel, Gimli! Eowyn! Look at her!

Legolas gives Eowyn his most seductive, 10,000 candle-powered smile. Eowyn smiles back, lowering her eyes, coyly.

Gimli (turning back to the audience): As I was saying, if there is one true test of a great fan fiction writer—

Legolas: I think I’m in with a chance there.

Gimli: She’s married.

Legolas: Only a bit.

Gimli: Only a bit! What’s that supposed to mean?

Legolas: She’s married to Faramir—he’s just a man. A woman like that needs an elf.

Gimli (turning back to the audience with a theatrical sigh): If there is one true—

Legolas: She’s winking at me, Gimli.

Gimli: She’s got something in her eye.

Legolas: Can you not see that ‘come hither’ look?

Gimli: That’s just something she’s eaten.

Legolas: I’m going over to her. Just to have a quick word…

Gimli: You do that. (Turns back to the audience). Where was I?

Legolas (stalking towards Eowyn): ‘One true test…’

Gimli: Oh yes. Look, basically, if you’re going to do the Silmarillion, you’ve got to be good—to keep all those F-lads sorted and handle the talking dog…

Ignoring Faramir and the rest of his party, Legolas lifts Eowyn from her chair and lays her on the table (clearing it first with a sweep of his strong elven arm), then proceeds to ravish her.

Eowyn does not protest ;-)

Gimli (to the audience): Just excuse me. One moment.

He walks over to Legolas.

Gimli (speaking from the corner of his mouth): Hssst! HSSST! Legolas!

The elf pays no attention.

Gimli (slapping Legolas on the back): Will you stop it?

Legolas and Eowyn take no notice. Eowyn’s ankles cross behind Legolas’ back.

Morgoth (excitedly): Is that two girls kissing?

Sauron: Er… Erm… Well… (Slaps his own head to get it over with). No boss.

Gimli, meanwhile, is looking this way and that, a desperate expression on his face. Suddenly, he walks to the nearest table, grasps the table cloth, and whips it off.

Gimli: The flowers are still standing!

He drapes the tablecloth over the energetic couple.

Gimli: Right! Best Silmarillion! The nominations are… (He turns to the announcer). Where’s that envelope?

The announcer shrugs.

Gimli: Oh, sod it. And the winner is—[name].

A whoop of victory all but drowns out the great swell of Awards-music. [name] clambers onto the stage, sweeps Gimli into her arms, and kisses him noisily. Then, weeping real tears, she begins to read her acceptance speech…

Gimli (to himself): Never underestimate the advantages of a compact stature and a luxuriant beard when dealing with women.