The June 2002 Silver Clitorides Awards Presentation

It was another raucous night in La Taverna (The Official Bar of the 2002 Autumnal Pornolympics). Someone had rounded up the usual suspects. Same old crowd by the aquarium, give or take a new face or two. Same old crowd on the same old barstools (and one high chair.) Same old clerics pontificating or sermonizing. Same old, same old.

One sudden change - like "the wave" at a football stadium, a bunch of the female authors (and a few males) flashed their talents, and the patrons at large flooded the room with cheers. This was outside the norm. It was a welcome distraction from the dry discussions of "two", "too", or "to."

Me? Well, I wanted to join in, but my muse and I were too busy tallying the votes for the June Silver Clitorides Awards for me to dangle *my* chad in public. She and I had a table in a dark corner. Maybe the darkness contributed to the time it took to count the ballots - maybe not. Next month, I think I'll just do away with the "Silver Voting" address and take all the mail at "Silver Nominees." Maybe I'll just get a more generic address and replace them both..

My stack was done; my muse still had a few to go. Then there'd be the engraving on the trophy (I knew that vibro-etcher would come in handy). While she caught up, I signaled the waitress for a refill. My hot chocolate was nearly empty.

Muse asked, "How can you drink that on a day like this? The sun's down and it's still triple digits outside."

"I've decided to embrace the International System. It's barely 40 degrees, and to a 'Mericun, that sounds cold. Besides, we aren't outside, we're inside, and the air conditioning is set to maximum." She just shook her head, and continued counting.

The waitress brought my order, and I savored the drink. Especially the little marshmallow bits. I might even have some more. I winked at the waitress and she winked back. She appeared to be one of the later models. I briefly wondered if her programming included... never mind.

"Done!"

She passed me her tally sheet. I combined the totals with mine. We had a winner. I started engraving.

Finally, we gathered up the trophy and certificate, and went to stand in front of the bulletin board. "If I could have your attention for a moment?" I shouted. The patrons paid me the usual respectful deference. Before I could yell again, I heard a distraught cry from a table in a dark corner. Three people sitting there. A short, red-headed author auditioning a couple for her next MF story. The author seemed to be patting the hand of the distraught character. I heard her whisper, "There, there. Of course that's the way it has to be. Didn't read my specs? MF stories, one character must ALWAYS be killed off. Get over it. Die like a man."

I shuddered, hoping she wasn't contemplating a Fantasy Train story full of fellow authors any time soon. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied a certain Aquarium Proprietor and a Red-headed Texan approaching. I hastily shoved the trophy and placque into my Muse's arms and sat, covering my mouth with both hands.

Annoyed, my Muse snapped her fingers. A hush decended over the bar (do hushes have to descend? can't a hush ascend, or approach from an oblique angle?), and she announced in her clear contralto, "The winner of the Silver Clitoride Award for best story of June, 2002 goes to...

"Nano Virus, by cmsix at Stories Online

"Congratulations to cmsix, and to all the finalists!"