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The tannoy gives a little pop and a crackle before settling down. A voice booms out. "Ladies and gentlemen...please welcome our very special guest, and presenter of our next award, the one and only, the inimitable....
KAI WYNTER!As his name is announced, Kai, who hasn't been seen on a stage in a number of years, saunters onto the FCA stage, his signature swagger still as evident as ever, bedecked in a red suit covered in curious newspaper clippings. He walks to the front of the stage, his smile growing as he throws a peace sign to the crowd. As he steps up to the mic, he gives a little appreciative wave to the fans and takes the microphone from its stand. "Karoliena and Payton, ladies and gentleman...," Kai says with a smile, absentmindedly applauding against his chest with his one free hand. "Wow...and then there's me. I know...fucking hell. "The FCAs, sponsored by Tumblr; bringing the world championships of pining for fuckin' 2015 live and exclusive to network TV." I'm joking, I'm joking, Karoliena is absolutely timeless. I suppose technically I am too, given that I've had no fuckin' idea remotely what time it is since about 2008," he says with a laugh and a shrug. "Anyway... Liverpool. FCAs. How we doin, eh? 'ow we doin? We reyt? Lovely stuff. This were always my favourite awards show. Mostly because the last time I were here I got off me tits with Erich Hess and sat with me wife throwing popcorn at the back of Elyar Black's fucking idiot head all night."
"When they asked me to come here tonight, you know I actually said nah at first. But then they told me I didn't have to sing or learn any lyrics and I'd get paid for just coming up here and handing out an award. Flight was booked before I got off the phone," he laughs. "Listen, I know what you're thinking. I can see it in your eyes. You're thinking where the fuck's Kai been for the last few years? Well some o' yer are. The rest are thinking "who the fuck is this tattooed tramp on't stage?"" Kai smirks and gives the camera a little wink. "For those who don't know me, I am Kai Wynter and I am what happens if you splice human DNA with a honey badger and pump it full of narcotics for 31 years. Nice to meet yer, lads. So where has Kai fuckin' been? I'll tell ya. I've been angry at seeing the world go to shit, mate.""Long story short, I got pissed off at people's creepy love for a flag. Weird cunts man. I in't kink shaming, lads, but how do you love a flag more than you love justice and the rights and lives of other people?" Kai says with a sincerity in his voice rarely seen from the hell raising Kai of old. He paused for a moment to let his words land before continuing, pacing now a little on the stage. "I got really fucking political for a while, and I decided I needed to write an album about all the bullshit I was seeing. About people who just blindly follow orders and can't think for themselves. So I came up with a killer idea and album title. Wait for it... he says before pausing. ""Hive Mind"" he adds, drawing his hand across the air as if painting the title before his eyes. "Fucking deep innit? Eh?"
"Anyhow, I wrote some amazing angry, punky, groovy shit lads. It was mint. I was all prepped to become the angry voice of this generation. Fucking...Zack de la Yorkshire," Kai adds, returning to the front of the stage and leaning on his mic stand. "So....story time. Bring it in," he says, beckoning the crowd towards him as he sits cross legged at the front of the stage. "We went into the studio. And I may have had a little celebratory cocktail..of the pharmaceutical persuasion," he laughs. "Fucking crashed back to reality four days later didn't I? and Hive Mind was nooooo longer a scathing commentary on the political mindfield of modern day America." he pauses and shakes his head, running the palm of his free hand across his face. "Lads...lads, lads, lads. It was a fucking concept album. From the point of view of a bee. An intro four minutes long that was just a buzzing noise. A thirteen minute operatic piece on the strict hierarchy of a beehive and a trippy acid jazz number about the intricate wonders of the honeycomb shape. All rounded off with...a fucking string concerto playing a neoclassical version of Billie Piper's Honey to the B. Fuck sake."Kai pauses for a moment and waits for the laughter to die down. "Moral of the story? Don't do drugs lads. Oh..and also don't do some ket to make yoursen feel better and end up investing thousands of dollars in polyphonic ringtones in 2020 either. They in't making a comeback. No matter what that email promised."He laughs and motions for people to quieten down with a wave of his hand. "Last thing...slightly related. if anyone wants any merchandise, I've got a pasting table and 350 black and yellow striped sweatshirts, so I'll be selling those in the out in't car park when I get off stage. Come down and have a word."
"Anyway...anyway..." he says, jumping back to his feet and pulling in the lapels of his suit. "it's not about me. I know, 5 minutes back after 4 years in the wilderness and I've already stolen the show. What's he bloody like, eh?
"This next award is one of me personal favourites. Huge award," he says, sneaking a look at the envelope he's just been handed. "It's....best band. Cracking award. Gotta love the bands. Who remembers Weekend eh? Top, top lads. Absolutely massive, banging tunes. And Stat Nerds...umm...also...a band," he says with a shrug and a wink towards the crowd. "Anyway, the nominees for best band are...
Atomic War Bride Public Warning Weekend The Jollies
"Reyt," Kai says after announcing the nominees and glancing at his watch. "Listen, I better look at making a move lads. I've left the dog outside wi' a bag of treats and he'll have finished them soon. I know, I'm not doing much to dispell the old tattooed hobo thing, bringing my dog to this, but he's a total bastard if I leave him in't house. It's absolutely mint to be up here again though and I've had a fuckin' blast. Hope everyone has a belting night.
"Before I go, I just wanted to add, fuck Trump, fuck the Tories and keep fighting the fight against everything the right wing stands for. Peace out lads," he says with another flash of the peace sign to the audience and a little bow, forgetting he's not actually finished presenting yet. After a moment, he presses a finger to his earpiece and the penny drops. "Oh shit, yeah...and the fucking very deserving winner of the FCA for best band is....
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