From: Graham Woodland Subject: Re: ADRICS: Best Drama Long Fiction Date: Sunday, 21 May 2000 6:35 [Noises off, many of a somewhat sinister nature. FASTOLF bounds onto the stage. He is an exceptionally large Terileptil, sporting a harlequin enamelling on his scales, and dressed for the occasion in a bizarrely cut and tailed variant of Elizabethan doublet and hose. In his left claw, he bears a semi-portable fusion cannon with small apparent effort: this he uses to gesture dramatically for the audience's full attention. This succeeds - dramatically. As an expectant hush falls upon the throng, FASTOLF's great voice requires no amplification to fill the hall: FASTOLF: Whilome waste words did wend their weary way To prate a Prologue, and impede the Play - Now, ere we cut to some on-topic chase, I grant ye, gentles, goodly greater grace, For mighty *Fastolf* holds it in his power To spellbind you with Prologue for an hour - [SUIT-ADRIC from MPT3K does something to his mobile phone, which promptly rings. He 'answers' it with, under the circumstances, almost rash volume.] ADRIC: Down *thirty billion*? Three-oh? Well, poor little Billy Gates, this is what comes of dealing with - Yes, yes, sell before the hoi polloi find out - Of *course*, with dead dog options! - FASTOLF [very hastily]: - But shan't: so, Action! - Enter NAKED NUN, And Exit TASTE - fall curtain - Will, be done! [FASTOLF leaps off the stage and charges, unopposed, for the fire doors, which for the saving of time he slags en route with his semi-portable. He leaps through the smoking hole with improbable, dancerlike grace, and hits the ground running. Spontaneous applause.] THE FOURTH DOCTOR [mugging]: I wonder what he wanted? [GRAHAM WOODLAND is assisted onto stage by TEGAN and NYSSA. He is a thirtyish, dark-haired Englishman of standard build and mild, amiable, and vaguely academic aspect. He is wearing a once-smart but now extremely dishevelled evening suit. In their understandable haste to liberate him from reptilian durance, the ladies appear to have accidentally tripped over him a few times, as witness the various boot- and stiletto-prints marring his clothes and person. He reaches the mike, coughs, dusts himself off, and nods in a gallant yet firm manner to his supporters. They bow to the audience and withdraw, giggling to each other.] GRAY: Ahem! I beg your indulgence. I could not come earlier. I was unexpectedly tied up. [Does double-take, removes handful of mouldy chestnuts from pocket, and hurls them violently into the wings.] I am extremely honoured that so many of you have thought so highly of _Nyssa's End_. This is the project that, after a ten-year hiatus, has managed to convince me that I can, once more, finish a novel! Thank you all for bearing with me over the past eighteen months, and for your patience with the often lengthy pauses between episodes. It has been rather a labour of love, and this - accolade - really does mean a great deal to me. I should also like to say that the compliment is greatly enriched by the extremely high standard of the competition. Frankly, I would not have bet on my winning this race. My thanks also to the other nominees for providing some of my better reading moments over the past year! Special thanks go to the many of you who have bucked me up with feedback - critical or appreciative or both - over the course of this project. I don't know whether I'd have finished it without you: certainly it wouldn't have been half as pleasant to write, or (I suspect) half as worth reading, without your input. Pride of place here must go, as ever, to BKWillis and Clive May - each of whom has been a constant source of constructive criticism and advice, lucid insight, and just plain friendship throughout. I feel a shepherd's crook coming on, so I shall thank everyone once more and depart, reserving a proud place on my virtual mantelpiece for this golden - er - Alzarian. Nozink in ze vorlt can shtop me now! The Universe shall hear from me again! And now you have no-one but yourselves to blame... Cheers, -- Gray http://www.quilpole.demon.co.uk "She does not get eaten by the sharks at this time." - William Goldman, _The Princess Bride_.