4 Prepared Speeches for 4 Awards I'll Never Win

by Steven Smith

posted 06.28.04

Academy Award/Oscar:

(step up the stairs to the stage, pumping my fists wildly in the air and glancing back at the assembled crowd to assure them that I never saw this coming; kiss the female presenter on each cheek and shake the hand of the male presenter; take the award, open my mouth, begin to speak)

Whoa… HOLY SHIT! (swallow hard and stare at the floor while patting my pants pockets with open palms to show that I haven’t brought a speech with me) I’m pretty sure I can’t say that, right? Sorry about that Mom. I never saw this coming. Man, this feels awesome. (heft the statuette in hands) Look at this thing! It’s heavier than I imagined it would be. (turn to male presenter) Did you know it was this heavy Tom? You didn’t? Man you’ve got to win one of these. It weighs like ten pounds, easy. OK! There’re so many people to thank. First and foremost, congratulations to the other actors in this category. You are all an inspiration to me. Well, you’re early work was. You’re latest stuff is overwrought and uninspired. But you’re Hollywood institutions, so congrats on this and what I’m sure will be many more nominations in years to come that also bear no fruit.

Thanks to the Academy. When others saw ravishing good looks, a killer body and a million dollar smile, you saw star potential. I’ll level with you guys. My face? It sells magazines, ok? My face puts the asses in the seats. And now that I’ve got this baby (looks at statuette then back at audience), we’re gonna sell twice as many tickets and make everybody a boatload of cash! No more boring period pieces for me. I’M A STAR!

WHOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOO!

Before I forget, go and see “Android Holocaust” this Friday at a theater near you. It’s got something for everybody: explosions, robots, hot chicks, weird Eastern spirituality, and a crazy shootout with Deviltron who’s this robot who thinks he’s the Devil… It’s just, an awesome movie.

(orchestra begins to play outro music) Oh shit, already? Ok. That’s my time. Thanks again. (pumps statuette in the air) Becky? You out there, baby? Look at me! I did it! You got the coke? ‘Cuz my cock is rock har—(microphone is cut off)

World's Greatest Grandpa:

What’s all that racket? Get out of here I’m taking a nap. Oh no! Don’t open the blinds! My eyes haven’t adjusted. What? What’s this? Oh for the love of Christ, stop singing. You sound terrible! Just get out of here and let an old man rest in peace. Can you hear me? Cut that racket out and get lost. I don’t care what you do. Go play in traffic or something. Happy birthday indeed. A happy birthday would be me sleeping in peace with out all of you jack asses carrying on about God knows what. Now how on Earth do you expect me to blow those out when I’ve got a machine breathing for me half the time? A wish? How about this, I wish I was dead. Yeah, how’s that sound? I wish the angel of death would swoop down and take me away from all of this so I can finally get some rest. And then my death rattle would drown out you singing S.O.B.s once and for all. Where did all the smiles go? You asked me what I wanted and you got it. Now hand me my slippers, I need to go take a piss.

MacArthur Fellow/Genius Grant:

(my speech is given upon notification by phone that I’ve been chosen)

Hello. Yeah, this is Steven. MacArthur what now? Really? Me? What is this for again? Extraordinary originality and dedication in my creative pursuits and a marked capacity for self-direction? You sure you got the right guy? Steven Cawley Smith? Can you read that address back to me one more time? How much is the stipend again? And that’s in dollars? Are you shitting me? Five hundred thousand dollars? Is this some sort of practical joke? Rick? Rick is that you? Are you punking me you mean piece of shit? No? This is for real? In that case, can I get that check ASAP? Just make it out to cash.

Miss America:

(stand twitching slightly, hand held half a foot away from my open mouth, face resembling a mask of horror that’s actually meant to express surprise and joy)

Ohhhhhhhhhh. Oh-oh-oh. Thank you! Thank you all so much. You’re all so beautiful, thank you. (crowned and handed bouquet by runners-up) I’m sorry that it had to come down to just one girl (wipe away tears), but in the end, that’s what a competition is all about. Either put up or get the fuck out of the way! Jesus Christ, my tits are killing me. You guys don’t mind, do you? (unzip evening gown, unhook corset and throw it into the front row, causing a minor dog pile)

You can’t begin to imagine how much better that feels. Where were we? Oh yeah. I’m gonna be such an awesome Miss America you guys, I swear to God. Not like Miss Kentucky. (mime taking a deep swig from a bottle) Seriously! Like a fish! Miss Massachusetts and Miss Florida had to drag her home from the bar the other night after the talent competition. I would’ve hit the bottle too though, after that performance. I don’t think any of us will ever want to play ping-pong ever again, am I right? Ahhhhh, what do you people know? Miss Idaho! OH MISS IDAHO! Need I state the obvious? It’s right there in the poor girl’s title. (make a pistol with hand, point at one of the judges, shoot and wink) I think we’ll all agree that I’m easily a better choice when compared to Miss Washington. That poor girl is a wreck. As the reigning Miss America I’ll make sure she and her armpit hair are on the first train back to Berkeley. She actually asked me to call her “Ms. Washington”. Can you believe that?

Ok. I’m gonna get the fuck out of here. Thanks for the car and the scholarship and all that other shit. If anyone’s interested I’ll be cutting the ribbon on the new Windcrest Mall over in Madison next Thursday. Hope to see you there. (tug at underwear and stride off stage)