On and Offstage at the Kodak Theatre, Hollywood and Vine, Los Angeles, California -- In a glib commercial effort to lighten up the sometimes not so serious Oscars, Jon Stewart has decided to hand himself a golden boy toy for hosting the 2006 television ceremony: on stage, from the start, off the top, out of the box, to kick off the ceremony with a twist of wry.
"We're going to start with a bang and not a whisper," he says. "Why keep people in suspense? I'm not going to sing or dance. And my most famous shtick is faking the news with funny results!"
"So I thought I would take the Bob Hope approach and remind everyone jealousy and egotism are mere facts of life. You just have to make the best of a bad situation. But instead of telling the audience all's fare in love with warts, I though I'd add some poignant rewards to the moment."
"But even more saliently, to keep the event lively and devoted to reel movies shown in real time, attendees are being advised to keep it "short" and sweat."
"Show some savor fears,' presenters have been told. "No long speeches dedicated to dying causes. No endless thank youse. No moms and pop laundry lists of beloved babes, not even mine. No ifs and or butts."
Mr. Stewart goes on to jump on stage.
"To kill the time saved by stifling attendees, the extra added awards are going to be as titillating as plausible including hottest smooch, greatest fight scene, most babied moment and, best of all, the biggest epiphany of the year."
He jumps off stage, changes into a band major's outfit and parades through the aisles of empty seats, at the head of a big brass band. "Just follow me boys. Walk the Line!" he tells anyone who will listen.
"We also intend to give out freebies. A cornucopia chock full of plenty. Something for nothing. Nothing for some one. Hey, get your cold beer. Peanuts. Popcorn. Cracker jack!" (Several lions, tigers and bears add a circus-like atmosphere to the hustle and flow of the presentation, aptly eptlomized by several shapely Geishas signing unmitigatedly unrepentant " Memoirs" in the back of the theatre and complaining about a History of Violence as a Go-Cart suddenly goes CRASH!.)
"Make yourself at home. Whip out the remote. Put your feet on the seat back. Make a mountain out of a mole hill."
Mr. Stewart proceeds to change into a hard hat and flak jacket. A stage hand releases a bevy of doves and a flotilla of trial balloons on cue. "Good night, and good luck!" he tells various and sundry in signing off.