Another Serious Load of the Magic of the Oscars

INT, ACADEMY AWARDS CEREMONY STAGE - NIGHT

The Oscar lies on the floor, stage left. Forlorn little statuette all by itself. Also, the edge of an awards envelope, partially in frame.

Hold on Oscar. We hear arguing in the background.

Warren Beatty walks up to the Oscar, picks it up, smiles, and shuffles up to the microphone. 

Beatty: Man. I should really give this shiny little fellow to Arthur Penn. (smiles) So many people to thank. So many. Bonnie Parker. Clyde Barrow. Ha. No, seriously ... Faye Dunaway ... (looks around) Oh, where’d she run off to? (looks again) Damnit, I know I saw her somewhere. (shouts) Faye!

Matt Damon suddenly runs up.

Beatty: Hey. You're not Faye ...

Damon: That's mine, grandpa.

Damon punches him in the face.

Beatty hits the floor like a sack of bad reviews. Oscar rolls from his hands. Damon deftly picks it up.

Damon: Sorry, man. 

Damon walks away. Beatty groans. Damon stops. Turns his head.

Damon: You mind keeping it down back there? If it makes you feel any better, I actually liked "Dick Tracy."

Damon walks up to the microphone, holding Oscar. Beatty still in frame, lying on the floor in the BG.

Damon: (big smile) Wow. A lot of people to thank for this. Ken ... wherever you are, you had a vision, man. Not a happy-happy story but ...

Beatty groans.

Damon: Jesus, man, you sound like the f*** ghost of Christmas Past back there. Look, I said I was sorry. Can I thank the people? You mind?

Beatty groans.

Damon: Hey! You're really starting to piss me off, old man. What the f*** do you want?

Beatty groans. Damon notices he's holding an awards envelope in his shaking hand.

Damon: Oh, f*** me. OK.

Walks over, grabs envelope from Beatty's extended hand. Reads ...

Damon: What? (reads again) "Hacksaw Ridge"...? No f*** way! "Hacksaw Ridge"...?? Motherf*****!!!"

He spikes the Oscar on the stage, kicks over an abstract set piece and stomps off. 

Damon: (OS) Motherf*****!!!"

Once again, Oscar lies prone and abandoned.

Hold on statuette. View of big black shoes entering frame. A liver-spotted hand reaches down and picks up the statuette.

Pull back.

We see it's Mel Gibson, with a long beard and side curls, and sporting a big black hat and long black coat dropped with a prayer shawl. He looks very much like Tevye. And sounds like Mel Brooks.

He strokes Oscar's head, comforting him.

Gibson: Poor little fella. So much tsuris in one night, huh? Let's do this thing, already. 

He approaches mic.

Gibson: Hello people. 30 seconds, I know, I know. Who do I got to thank? Who do you think I got to thank? I'm talking about all you wonderful J--

Sound cuts. Go to wide shot, auditorium.

Music up.

Roll credits.