The 2018 Silmaril Awards: Announcing the Most Nefarious Villain!

You know, I’m beginning to understand why Jenelle was laughing so hard when she passed this award category on to me. She said it would be easy. HA! I mean, seriously, what was I thinking, getting myself into this…what? I’m on? WHY DO YOU ALWAYS MUMBLE WHEN YOU SAY “ACTION”, STEVE??? You know how I hate the mumbling!

Hello, everyone! Welcome back to the 2018 Silmaril Awards, where are about to unveil the winner of our darkest category…The Most Nefarious Villain! But before we reveal the lucky villain’s name, let’s give a round of applause to our presenters this year. We have a dark trio on the stage today…Saruman the White; Gollum, formerly Sméagol; and the Dark Lord himself….SAURON!!!

Oh. Hold on. I’m being told that Sauron can’t actually be here personally, due to matters in the land of Mordor that require his attention. One does not simply reschedule Mordor. But, to supervise the proceedings, he has sent his…eye.

Uh-huh. So…that big glowy eyeball is just gonna…float around up there over the stage and watch us, huh? Right. That’s not creepy at all.

Good luck, Saruman. Knock ’em dead.

Saruman: Why, thank you. I shall be most happy to…

Kyle: NOT literally.

Saruman: Oh.

Kyle: And Gollum, get AWAY from that Silmaril! It is NOT your precious! BAD Gollum! Don’t make me get the spray bottle!


Kyle: I thought you got turned to stone by the White Witch back in 2016!

Gollum: I gots better!

Kyle: Hrrrrgh. Get this over with, Saruman; I can feel an evil migraine coming on.

Saruman: Certainly.

Kyle: Oh, and just to be clear, there will be none of that teaming-up-to-take-over-the-world stuff that Shift tried to get going last year. Nor will there be any brawling amongst villains. Understood?

Saruman: *sigh* As you wish. Greetings, ladies, gentlemen, and orcs. There are many who aspire to be evil. Countless black-hearted scoundrels who unleash forbidden magic, amass armies of monsters, and murder fan-favorite characters, all to achieve the coveted status of Villain. But in the end, only one master of darkness is eligible to be considered the greatest fantastical villain of all time. And that person is…

Gollum: MEEE!!!

Saruman: SILENCE, GIBBERING CRETIN! The greatest villain is clearly me!

Sauron directs the Side-Eye of Doom at Saruman.

Saruman: Ha ha ha ha ha ha, of course, I misspoke, my lord. You are the greatest villain. You are the Dark Lord, after all. A mere slip of the tongue. Our names are somewhat similar.

The great eye continues to appear suspicious, but seems to accept this expalantion.

Saruman: Be that as it may, there are others, besides the great Sauron, who deserve recognition for their despicable exploits. Five of them have summoned their ever-loyal minions from across the worlds to vote for them, so that they may discover which one deserves the Dark Silmaril of Villainy this year. It was a hard-fought contest, but by a slim margin, a winner emerged at last. Ladies, gentlemen, and various and sundry thralls of darkness, please welcome this year’s winner…

Queen Levana from The Lunar Chronicles, with 26% of the vote!

Saruman drapes the dark and foreboding Silmaril around Levana’s neck.

Levana: My thanks, Saruman. I accept this acknowledgment of my superiority–though of course, it is not required to prove that I am, in fact, the most powerful and feared person in this room.

Saruman: Always excepting the Dark Lord, of course.

Levana meets the gaze of the Eye of Sauron. A hush falls over the crowd. Clearly, the Queen is attempting to bring her Lunar abilities to bear upon this manifestation of the Dark Lord’s strength. The lidless Eye never wavers…which is more than can be said for Levana’s glamour. It flickers, briefly revealing the hideously scarred visage beneath, before she tears her gaze away and composes herself with some difficulty. Her impossibly beautiful visage is back in place, though she appears greatly shaken.

Levana: A debate for another time, perhaps.

Saruman: I should make it clear that the Lunar Queen’s magic was not employed to achieve her victory. The other contestants ranked as follows:

In second place, Veed from The Tale of the Fallen with 23% of the vote.

Third, Captain Hook from Peter Pan with 21%.

Fourth, Lord Whitlock from Beaumont and Beasley with 15%.

And fifth, Death-in-Life/The Dragon from Goldstone Wood with 15% (one less vote than Lord Whitlock).

And now, my friends, let us make merry and…

An extremely old woman, scary beyond all reason, suddenly rushes onto the stage, panting for breath.

Gollum: AAAAAAGH! He attempts to snatch the Silmaril from Levana. Protect the precioussss!

Levana: Get back, you hideous little creature.

Yzma: Seriously? This is who they’ve got presenting the award? A leftover hippie with a disco ball and…what is that thing, one of those hairless cats?

Gollum hisses at her.

Saruman: What is the meaning of this? You are not an authorized contender! If you intend to challenge the rules of this contest, witch…

Yzma: Oh, calm down, Beardy. I’m not trying to take over the ceremony. I was hired to handle security at this event. Not exactly how I planned to spend the prime of my life, but I got fired from my job as adviser to the emperor over a trifling little misunderstanding, and then I spent some time as a cat, and then…

Saruman: Explain yourself before I smite you.

Yzma: Shut up and listen. We need to evacuate this place. Now.

Saruman: Whatever for?

Yzma: Because there’s a whole bunch of powerful villains who didn’t get enough nominations to make the top five…and they’re NOT. HAPPY. Even worse, they’re storming the gates right now.

Levana: I was under the impression that you could transform people into llamas. Why haven’t you done that to these other villains?

Yzma: Oh, what a brilliant idea! Why the heck didn’t I think of that? I TRIED. My potions don’t work on them.

Saruman: It is of no consequence. Sauron and I can easily defeat this army of upstarts.

Yzma: Whatever. I’m out of here. This isn’t worth minimum wage.

Gollum hisses at her again as she passes by. Yzma flinches, produces a small vial of potion, and dumps it on him. In a puff of pink smoke, he transforms into an adorable little kitten.

Yzma: What do you know? At least they work on somebody.


The wall of the banquet hall collapses in a fiery explosion, and dozens of villains shove their way inside, shouting and screeching.

Saruman: Ladies and gentlemen, out of respect for our master of ceremonies, who has asked that we keep wanting carnage to a minimum this year, let us attempt to resolve our differences with these interlopers peacefully. We shall examine their eligibility for the awards on a case by case basis. Starting with you there, at the front. Yes, the one without a nose.

Voldemort: Pay no attention to that large, unsettling eyeball! I am the Dark Lord!

The Eye’s pupil dilates ominously.

Saruman: Oh, really? And what is your villanous quest!

Voldemort: To destroy Harry Potter!

Saruman: Is he a hobbit?

Voldemort: … Not quite.

Saruman: I am rapidly losing interest. Do you have any other villainous goals?

Voldemort: To become immortal!

Saruman: Most of us figured out that bit on the first day of being evil. Your application is denied. Next! You, the green one. No, the other green one, on the broom. Yes, come right up here. What is your goal?

The Wicked Witch of the West: To destroy Dorothy!

Saruman: Let me guess– she’s not a hobbit.

WWW: Er…no, but I also want to retrieve the Silver Shoes!

Saruman: Do they grant the wearer dominion over all the realms?

WWW: No, but they let you instantly travel anywhere in the multiverse!

Saruman: Teleportation? Seriously? That’s all you want, and you call yourself an iconic villain? Application denied. Next! The large, red-faced woman in the back.

The Queen of Hearts: OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!!!

Saruman: Ah. Yes. Quite. So, what’s your–


Saruman: So, reading between the lines, it would seem that your goal is for people to not have heads.


Saruman: Oh, never mind! All your applications are denied! We will have no more of this foolishness! Get out, and take your one-dimensional motivations with you!

Gollum the Kitty: Why doesn’t we just join other evilnesses? Giving preciouses away no fun. TAKING preciouses, very very wonderfulness!

Saruman: Why Gollum…what a delightful idea. Of course, I did promise our host that no legions of evil would be formed at this ceremony…but we are villains, after all. Of what value are our promises? My friends! You desire Silmarils? Then let us march across that mysterious realm which is called the Internet, and seize each and every Silmaril that has been granted to every hero, every supporting character, and every villain across all time and space! The Silmaril Awards shall be the plaything of Sauron for all of eternity…and darkness shall spread through each and every reality!

A loud and hearty cheer arises from the horde as they rush at the stage. Levana holds her own Silmaril aloft, a cruel glint in her glamour-enhanced eyes.

Lord Whitlock: All right, I think that’s quite enough.

Saruman: Who dares challenge the will of Saruman? Pompous fool! Your universe is nothing more than a tiny infant compared to ancient and hallowed realms like Middle-Earth or the Potterverse!

Whitlock: Perhaps. But it’s my world, and I won’t have any of you grubby old maniacs trampling all over it. So I’m stopping this multiversal invasion before it can get started.

Whitlock snaps his fingers, and long chains of glowing red runes stream from his hand into every corner of the banquet hall. The ground begins to shake.


Whitlock: Oh, did Mr. Shultz neglect to mention that this little pocket dimension is upheld by magic from the Afterverse? Spells which I designed myself? All I need to do is apply the proper sequence of runes, and it all comes tumbling down. Every last villain will be sent back to his or her proper domain–including the Underworld, if they’re supposed to be dead.

Saruman: WHAT? You…y-you wouldn’t dare!

Whitlock: I already have. Bye-bye, Mr. Saruman. Perhaps I’ll see you again next year.

All the villainous voices rise in a time-honored, traditional chorus of defeat.


Then, in a blink of red light, they’re all gone. Whitlock smiles briefly and indulges in a sinister chuckle before vanishing himself.

And so, yet another Most Nefarious Villain Award ceremony comes to an end.


Hooo. Okay. It’s over. Try to ignore the evil migraine and just keep telling yourself that, Kyle. It could have been worse. At least you survived.

Excuse me? Am I late?

You? Oh, wow…um…you know, you’re not actually eligible, I’m afraid…

I’m not? You do understand that I’m the actual, card-carrying Queen of Evil, right?

Yeah…sorry. You’re very, very not eligible, given that you’re not from a book or from the fantasy genre. But all the same, it’s awesome to meet you. Could I get an autograph, maybe?

I’ll do you one better, dear. How about a selfie?

Awesome! Let’s just stand over here…wow, that’s, uh…an interesting phone…

Mm, yes, it is, isn’t it? Now…say something nice.