Applause from the audience gradually phases out. Everyone was looking forward to the big one!

—And with that, Species and Genera, I would like to announce the final award of this evening, and also, one of the most coveted distinctions in the animation Industry —some sporadic cheering and whistling quickly died down—. So, without further ado, I will reveal the winner of the Academy Award for Best Animated Short Film goes to...

There was a pause as the host fiddled with the envelope, struggling to hold on to the tacky microphone at the same time. Why is it that they always have the need to bring these awkward props instead of just saying the winners? Maybe they really need to milk every single second that they can out of such an event.

— LUKE BOUWHUIS!

A cacophonous roar filled the auditorium, as smiles and knowing glances were exchanged among the nominees. The whole space was just suddenly filled with a truly lively commotion. But soon it was evident that there was something wrong. First it was the cameras, which honed in on a vacant seat when the winner was announced. In a split second, they began scanning the entire audience, looking for the elusive Dragonite. Somehow, his characteristic snoot was nowhere to be seen!

—Luke Bouwhuis! Come on, now! Don't be shy!— the master of ceremonies pushed through with what little charisma and enthusiasm he could muster. But to no avail.

By then the chorus had settled down, and the host scrambled for any cue. Anything that would make his situation just slightly less awkward. The teleprompters were frozen, and the glaring lights helped as much as a box of matches in the middle of a raging fire. This was unprecedented.

Where was Luke? The audience grew restless.
Where was Luke? Some had seen the Dragon-type earlier that night.
Where was Luke? Much had been said during the red carpet, about his maroon velvety lavish pilot gear, clearly tailor made just for the event.
Where was Luke? Minutes continued to pass.
Where was Luke? Now what...

—LOOK! [or possibly "LUKE", the versions vary depending on the first hand accounts]

Someone had spotted him. Right against the back of the theater, where some tables still held the leftover hors-d'ouvres, a fascinating spectacle took place right before the audience's eyes.Right in that moment, the pilot-turned-artist was illuminated with light from above, making his one-piece suit sparkle and glimmer like the fanciest jewelry box.

But the strangest thing was that seemingly, the Dragonite was unaware of his current position literally right under the spotlight. He tugged and tugged, but try as he might, the buckle in the last of his belts, which had become undone —either by deliberate foresight, or by unintended licentiousness—, refused to budge.

It didn't take the wittiest detective to add two and two together. It was yet another case of the well-known Prize Panic (A.K.A. Honour Hogging, Bounty Binging, Loot Glut...), where the nerves had cracked even the toughest and most distinguished, rendering them into a trance that caused them to eat their stress away. Often with rather viral results in terms of popularity in the web.

Thankfully, this was not the first instance of such phenomenon, as just a few months ago, the leading researcher on the topic happened to experience a bout of the very conduct he had helped explain right before his acceptance speech... The scene of a feathered dragon barely concealed by a suit three sizes too small took the web by storm.

So the audience, sparked by an enlightened soul, started chanting to bring Luke back from the trance:

—LUKE! LUKE! LUKE! LUKE!

It took a few minutes for the Dragonite to blink out of the dream state he had found himself on, but once there, the whole scene felt like it had been pulled out of his wildest dreams! A crowd of both well-known celebrities and dear friends all chanted his name, urging him to step into the front of the theater to deliver his acceptance speech... And yet, even as the straps kept pinching him in odd places, he did not in fact wake up. This was as real as could be.

Two lumbering feet took the massive pilot all way to the center, right behind the podium. The warm lights only served to heat up his already burning cheeks. He could feel the furry lining of his hood ticking his damp neck and grapefruit-sized cheeks. But he plowed through.

This was, in the end, what the audience was looking forward to: the big one!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I made this as a birthday gift for my friend Luke. And it was truly a blast! Trying to incorporate a more dynamic pose, with interesting angles and different expressions. I also wanted to experiment with a reduced colour palette, so I only used 5 hues for the whole scene, and tried to mix and combine different tones to create some interesting lighting. I'm relatively happy with the result, especially since I managed to reduce the time it took me to finish by a significant margin compared to my previous pieces. But there is still a lot to learn and a lot to improve.

I hope that you like it. Don't forget to boop that snoot on your way out and thanks for your continued support

Luke ©  fattydragonite

Art © yours truly  dragontzin