Mercury - Authentic New Orleans Cajun Style "Hi, I'm Jon Stewart. Well, there you go. Not groundbreaking, not side-splitting, not rewriting Oscar hosting as we know it, but...pretty good. Solid laughs. The monologue took a while to get going, but the history of Westerns montage was great -- even if it was already done in mini form on The Colbert Report and it presaged an evening that would include over thirty-eight different montage sequences, including a salute to all the films in Hollywood history that were exactly 122 minutes in length. At least I finally took the piss out of the whole montage thing. Hey, somebody had to say it. Besides you, I mean. And every one in your house watching the Oscars along with you. The Best Actress attack ads were pretty funny too, although Dame Judi Dench came up to me after the show and kneed me in the nuts. Dame Judi, that was Colbert's voice, not mine. My voice doesn't sound like that. At least, it doesn't anymore."

Venus - East Indian, and Hold the Rice
"Hi, I'm George Clooney, possibly the only person other than Jon Stewart who seemed to appreciate that the whole Oscars thing is kind of a load of crap, but was happy to be there and got through it gracefully. I mean, I'd never even gone to the Oscars before I was nominated for three, but the way I showed up dressed all nice, started the night with a nice little homoerotic zing in that filmed skit, gave a gracious speech that was progressive without being self-serving or gross, and spent the whole rest of the night chilling in my seat and apparently waiting to provide a cute take any time the camera cut to me...well, you'd think I'd been born in that Kodak Theatre. Now that I've shown how well I can work this particular room, what do you say you put me on the short list for future hosts? It's not like I could be any worse than Whoopi."

Earth - Mexican with Extra Salsa
"Hi, I'm Diana Ossana, and I'm just thrilled to share the award for Best Adapted Screenplay with Larry McMurtry. ...No, of course I'm thrilled -- happy, ecstatic, ebullient, I really know a lot of words to describe the way I'm feeling. It's just that when I crammed my boobs into this dress, I think I pinched the nerve that translates emotion into the expression on my face. Also I'm not so delighted that Larry showed up in jeans like a goddamn hobo. Hello, we wrote a film about a pair of gay guys; he could at least try looking like he found one to style him since it's only the Oscars. But...no, that's not why I'm so bitchfaced. Really, I am happy inside. REALLY."

Mars - The T.G.I. Friday's Version of Cajun
"Hi, I'm Ryan Phillippe. Come on, baby. Say my name. Say my name. Don't 'forget' me. Do not Chad Lowe me. I'm right here, baby. Say it. Say it. Say it. Say my name. Say my name. Mom...Dad...come on, baby. Say it. Say it. Wait -- she just said 'husband.' Didn't she just say 'husband'? I'm sure I heard her say 'husband.' That counts, right? It's not my name, but it counts. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, baby! Thank you!"

Jupiter - Dijon Mustard
"Hi, we're the Crash dancers! Crash dance -- what a feeling! If you haven't seen the movie...well, this dance pretty much sums up the major themes: a burning car, people throwing stuff...at the burning car...other people are sad...because of racism. That's pretty much it. Hey, we didn't write the film. We're just dancing it. Sure, it sounds simplistic and kind of dumb, but it's not like it's going to win Best -- oh, shit."

Saturn - French's Mustard
"Hi, I'm Charlize Theron. It's always exciting to present awards here and I appreciate being asked, but I'm sorry, I really have to go; this tumour on my dress has metastasized."

Uranus - Saltines
"Hi, I'm Robert Altman. Thank you for this honorary Oscar. I guess it's time to come clean. Some years ago, I had a complete heart transplant. I now have the heart of a young woman -- in her thirties, I believe. She was a hooker from West Hollywood. Drifter type, with no family. So nobody to miss her. She's gone now, of course, but she lives on inside of me. And I'll be needing a new heart soon."

Neptune - British entrée
"Hey -- I'm Ben Stiller. You can't see me! I'm wearing a greenscreen suit! Man, this bit is going to kill. It's hilarious -- and people will be talking about it for days. They're already talking about it -- and it's not even over. In fact, folks, stop jabbering. I'm up here! In my little green pajamas. This bit is awesome! I should be hosting this show! Seriously! Or should I say -- hilariously! I'm all dancing around, like, in a green suit. My head is floating -- you see? That's the joke. You can't see me! Ha! It's so -- all right, fuck it. You writers are fired. You too. Get out. What the fuck. This green suit bit is shit. I am so fake-mad mad at you. No, I'm not really mad. I'm fake-mad -- get it? Ha! Get it? I'm fake-mad! You know, how I do. With the fake mad. Now get the fuck out. Fuck it. You too. Get out. Ha ha!"

Pluto - Hospital Meal for Patients Recovering from Gastric Surgery
"Hi, I'm the copywriter responsible for all the Oscar chyrons and surtitles. I know it was wrong of me to type that Philip Seymour Hoffman 'play's Truman Capote,' and that the comedian Will Ferrell isn't 'Will Farrell,' and that the lady Charlize Theron played in Monster was not 'Aileen Wuournuous' or whatever it was that I typed during the biopic montage. I apologize. The software they give me to use doesn't have a spellchecker, and it's hard to concentrate with all those writers yelling jokes at each other backstage, and I really was doing the best I could considering that I'm a product of the same L.A. County public schools that educated that guy from the Three 6 Mafia who incomprehensibly mumbled his entire acceptance speech for that 'Pimp' song. Hell, you think I did a bad job? Ask a deaf person how well the closed-captioner did with that guy."