(Granted this year’s Oscar was scaled back, but this is an ode to the prima donna days of Hollywood)
Scene: (A radiant actress bats her eyes furiously like a fan. She’s a vision in a rose colored dress but a peevish glare settles on her face).
Actress: Oscar, Oscar, Oscar! I swear there’s a lot of buzz over a little thing.
(Her date glares at everyone at the table and taps his fingers nervously on a silver spoon)
Date: Darling, perk up! Suppose the camera spots you sulking.
Actress: Let them see me sulk. Why should I grovel for a naked, golden statue?
(She whips the napkin on the table and spills a glass of water on her lap. Her date lowers his head into his sweaty palm).
Actress (continues): Honestly, this is a waste of time. I’m waiting for the golden hand of the academy to bless me. (Laughs) Ten years of this madness. I’m liable to walk out this door for my own sanity.
(A hush falls over the room)
Presenter: And the Oscar goes to…
(The actress hears her name. Incredulously, she stares at her date, shoots out her seat, and runs audaciously to the stage).
Actress: Oh, what an honor! I’d like to thank the fantastic, wonderful academy for recognizing my work.
Date (mumbles): What a drama queen.