Disclaimer- Any and all characters contained herein belong either to themselves or their various creators. Iím not about to list them here- that would take forever. This story is rated G and contains a lot of pointless weirdness. Sort of like me, actually. :) By the way, this is script format. Think of it as sort of a radio play. Sort of. Note- if you don't know anything about alt.fan.power-rangers, some of the jokes herein won't make any sense to you. Especially nothing about Phasm. Sorry.

Angst Awards
by Ellen Brand

Johnny Yong Bosch: What? Why do I have to do it? Geez, one special and a few a.f.p-r posts, and itís suddenly a running gag... Iím on? Oh! Hi, everybody. Johnny Yong Bosch here, reporting live from the yearly Angst finals, where various media characters compete to see who has the most angst. Iím here with color commentator Phantom Ranger.

Phantom Ranger: Thanks, Johnny. We have quite a show for you here today, with lots of characters from every walk of fandom. Unfortunately, since we canít post binaries to the newsgroup, youíll just have to be content with the radio descriptions.

JYB: Right. I have here the list of finalists, and it looks to be an interesting group once again. Drew from Beetleborgs and Justin Stewart were once again disqualified for lack of angst-

(Switch to the front gate. Phasm Ranger has Justin and Drew loaded into a BIG slingshot.)
Justin: But what about ďBlue is the Color of- AHHHHHHH!Ē

JYB: And heís OUTTA there!

Phantom: Looks like Phasm goes the distance again. Remember, folks, fanfic angst does not count. It has to be canon!

Phasm: Cannon! Thatís what I should have used!

JYB: Get him out of here! How did he get into the booth, anyway?

Phantom: Trade secret.

JYB: Whatever... Anyway, we have quite a group, although some of our finalists are no-shows. Andros is explaining to the Shadow Government that he did NOT steal Fox Mulderís schtick, Ryouga couldnít find the place, and Rodimus Prime couldnít fit in the building.

Phantom: Iíd never seen a Transformer sulk before.

JYB: Still, we have an impressive turnout down there on the show floor. Agent Fox Mulder is back, as is Scott Summers, emotional punching bag of the X-Men. Apparently Wolverine had other business this year. Tommy Oliver is back to defend his title, but heíll have some tough competition from other Saban hopefuls such as Ryan Steele and Masked Rider, not to mention Tuxedo Mask, the last, best hope for DIC.

Sheridan: Cute.

Phantom: Are you here for the competition?

Sheridan: No, I just dropped in on my way to Zhaíhaídum.

JYB: That was surreal.

Phantom: Youíre telling me. Hey, speaking of that, some people on the newsgroup think weíre the same person. Can we be talking like this?

JYB: Sure. ĎTil weíre told differently, the author figures youíre Sven from Voltron.

Phantom: WHAT?

JYB: Yeah, she figures this is where he goes when he disappears from Arus.

Phantom:So whereís my accent?

JYB: Speech therapy?

Phantom: ... Works for me.

JYB: Well, it looks like the action is getting started down there. The various contestants are about to list their qualifications. First up is Special Agent Fox Mulder of the X-Files.

Mulder: Well, my sister was abducted, Iíve been infected with something loathesome, a guy who chainsmokes burned up my files, Iíve been shot at, beat up, and put in the hospital more times than I can count, my closest friend in the world has cancer, and my only other friends are a trio of geeks who think classic cinema began with Star Trek.

Phantom: Thatís a lot of angst. Itíll be tough for the others to beat.

JYB: But Tommy has a lot of experience coming back from such things. Up next is Tuxedo Mask.

Tux: Iím destined to marry a girl who thinks of nothing but food, my daughter has a crush on me, my future self sends me nightmares, I get beaten up by women on a daily basis, and I canít enter a battle without getting hurt.

JYB: Not a great life, but Iíve heard worse.

Phantom: Youíre not kidding. Hey, whereís Billy, anyway?

JYB: You canít get him within twenty feet of Tommy. Thereíll be an explosion.

Phantom: So Iíve heard. Next up is Ryan Steele of VR Troopers. Thisíll be interesting.

Ryan: I spent ten years without my father, I talk to myself constantly, and- AUGHHH!

JYB: What in the world?

Phantom: Looks like a huge horde of female country music fans.

JYB: Boots and hats tip you off?

Phantom: That and the ďI love BradĒ shirts. Man, look at Ryan go!

JYB: I guess Ryan Steele is no longer in the running.

Phantom: I wouldnít say that, but heís definitely out of the contest.

JYB: Uh- yeah.

(Phone rings on stage)

Mulder: Mulder. What? Iíll be right there. Gotta go. Cattle mutilation in Pecoima. (Leaves)

Phantom: Well, the ranks are thinning here, arenít they?

JYB: Yes, and now Dex Stewart, the Masked Rider will be coming up soon.

Phantom: Speaking of bugs, whereís Spider-Man?

JYB: We couldnít pay Marvel for the licensing deal.

Phantom: Oh.

JYB: This just in! Apparently the Shadow Government has turned Andros over to Catherine Johnson. I donít think heíll be showing up for the rest of the program.

Phantom: Or the century. But look! Dex is up to bat- or bug, as the case may be.

,b>Dex: Well, my uncle is trying to kill me, Iím an orphan, my planet is a war-torn ruin, and Iím stuck on a planet where bugs are treated as vermin.

(A flyswatter comes out of nowhere)


JYB: Ewww.... Okay, who put Phasm in charge of special effects?

Phantom: I just hope somebody cleans that up soon. Looks like weíre down to Tommy, and then itís all up to the judges.

Tommy: Iíve lost my powers more times than I can count, any woman I date becomes a mindless damsel in distress, I have to throw my clothes out once a season, people are continually trying to kill me, and I fall under spells at the drop of a hat.

(Lots of commotion)

JYB: Ladies and gentlemen, you heard it here first! Tuxedo Mask has just dropped his hat! Fortunately, the contest organizers keep a couple Swords of Darkness around for just such an emergency. Somebodyís just blasted it, so Tommy should be back under control soon.

Phantom: Meanwhile, Tuxedo Mask is being ejected by four people in security uniforms. You know, those guys look awfully familiar.

Jedite: Donít worry, everyone, weíll take good care of Tuxie, wonít we, Malachite?


JYB: (-_-;)

Phantom: How do you do that?

JYB: Trade secret. Well, folks, itís all down to Cyclops and Tommy now! Letís hear who the judges prefer!

Judge Doom: I always liked Christopher Lloyd, myself... But this yearís title goes once again to Tommy!

Tommy: Great! What did I win?

(A large anvil falls out of the sky and smashes him.)

JYB: (-_-;)

Phantom: Double (-_-;)

JYB: Let me guess. They put Phasm in charge of the prize committee, didnít they?

Phantom: And with that note, weíll leave you. Say goodnight, Johnny.

JYB: Goodnight, Johnny.