And the Most Mischievous Imp Silmaril Goes To...

An audience mills about in a field. They talk in low murmurs, as only confused and slightly annoyed people do. Everyone wears black tie attire and some hold glasses of champagne. Fifteen minutes ago, the audience sat inside a luxurious ballroom, watching the award for Least Competent Henchmen be presented, but they had been herded outside because of the fire alarm. Since there was no smoke or flames, they assumed some mischievous imp had pulled the alarm, though why anyone would do something so rude during an awards ceremony was beyond even the smartest attendee.

Suddenly, a bang! and everyone turns their heads. A firework explodes above the audience. Several more fireworks fly into the sky; miraculously, they spelled out several words: NOMINEES FOR THE MOST MISCHIEVOUS IMP SILMARIL.
Five more fireworks spell out the names of the nominees:
TIGGER from WINNIE THE POOH
TOAD from THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS
CRISPIN BEASLEY from BEAUMONT AND BEASLEY
PETER PAN AND THE LOST BOYS from PETER PAN
TINK/KALMAR from THE WINGFEATHER SAGA

As the smoke clears, the audience claps and whistles. This was well worth standing outside for fifteen minutes. The applause slows and a small figure appears out of the smoke.
"Now that is how to make an entrance!" he says, waggling his curly head. "Don't you think, Merry?"
"Well done, Pip." A second short man appears at the first's side.
"The envelope please, Merry," says Pippin Took.
Merry hands his cousin the envelope with the winner's name in it. Pippin opens it, glances at the name, gives Merry a side glance and a wink, and turns to the audience.

"And the winner is... Peter Pan and his Lost Boys!!"
The audience explodes like a firework.
"The Silmaril please, Merry." Pippin takes it from Merry. Peter Pan flies up into the air from his seat and does a twirl. He walks on the air, preening and smiling, and Tootles, Nibs, Slightly, Curly, and the Twins walk in a line underneath their fearless leader until all of them stand in a line before Pippin. Peter holds out his hand to accept his Silmaril, but it is no longer in Pippin's hand!
"I just had it..." Pippin says. He pats his pockets and searches the ground.
"Fool of a Took..." mumbles a gray wizard in the audience. He draws his bushy eyebrows together as he turns around and storms back toward the theater.
"What do you mean by this? We are supposed to get an award," says Peter indignantly. He crosses his arms over his chest and his Lost Boys copy him.
"Let me see... let me see..." says Pippin. "Ah, there it is! What's it doing behind your ear?" Pippin pulls the Silmaril from behind Peter's ear. The Silmaril hangs on a piece of fabric, so Pippin drapes it around Peter's neck.

"Thank you very much," Peter says. "Thank you. I'd like to thank my Lost Boys. They are the most loyal friends I could ever ask for. We shall have lots of adventures and continue being imps the rest of our lives! But I'll be sure to take better care of this Silmaril than Pippin here." Everyone laughs.
The crowd parts to let Peter Pan and Pippin follow the gray wizard back to the theater. Everyone else files back into the building after them. Just as the last guest enters the theater, it begins to rain, and the last of the smoke clears.