Mary

The revealing of the 'real' Stephenie Meyer was in all the newspapers and on the TV news, all of Friday. It was quite annoying, actually. You couldn't walk down the street without seeing its face staring out of a newspaper, most often with sickening captions like 'The FAB Stephenie Meyer is revealed!' and 'The real Stephenie – brave, brainy, and beautiful!' Possibly the worst was that on the front cover of Hello! magazine: 'Be like Bella Swan – exclusive tips inside on getting a perfect Twilight life!'

Please, someone help me out here - in what way does being thrown into a glass table by your so-called boyfriend (who wants to drink your blood), threatened with death by angsty vampires, marrying your said boyfriend fresh out of high school, and having his mutant spawn kid (who rips your body apart) constitute a perfect life?

Well, I suppose it has quite a lot going for it... if you like your life being put in danger all the time? Then again, it's true love, so, perhaps it would be worth it...

Anyway, ghastly newspaper headlines aside, we set out for the Seattle Theatre to set up our trap for Miss Mutant Spawn. The Volturi money had paid for the hire of the theatre, so we could get ready for the big night. Our plan was as follows:

Step 1: Lure the horror and her family into the theatre by telling them there are lots of fans waiting inside.

Step 2: Seat the targets (Renesmee, Bella, Edward, Emmett, and Jasper) in flame-retardant chairs on stage (well, we didn't want to burn the theatre down, did we?)

Step 3: Seat the others (Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, Alice, and Jacob) in normal seats in the auditorium. With some of Aro's Volturi friends to guard them and stop them running away or trying to help the monsters.

Step 4: Bring out the flamethrower!

Step 5: Use the flamethrower...Need I say more...?

We laid out a red carpet, so the mutant spawn (a.k.a. Renesmee), the vacuous slug (a.k.a. Bella), and the sparkling statue (a.k.a. Edward) would feel like proper celebrities, as opposed to freaks. We set up a fake trophy on the stage, with a pile of newspaper cut up into rectangles to look like book vouchers. We agreed that Marcus would pretend to be the Cullens' bodyguard, in order to 'protect them from the leagues of fans' (i.e. stop them escaping). We set up a large fireproof mat on the stage for the bonfire. We made a few last minute adjustments to our plan. We tested the flamethrower... now that was fun.

Sue still seemed determined to attach herself to Aro, who tried various ways of keeping her away (including dousing himself with stinky perfume, spraying her with water whenever she tried to come near, and tripping her up) but she still managed to hold his hand. I really, really pitied Aro.

At last, we were ready. Sue and I went back to our hotel to check our things for the following night. Sue had a major panic when she realised she didn't have anything to wear that would impress Aro (don't ask), so she dragged me round the shops finding every black gothic gown that they had in Seattle, asking "Do you think Aro will like it?" or the slightly more disturbing question "Do you think he likes me?"

I tried to be diplomatic, really I did, but it's quite hard to be diplomatic when your friend's trying to impress a God-knows-how-old perverted vampire, who has powdery white skin and red eyes, and likes to drink the blood of unsuspecting tourists. What can I say? She has strange tastes in men.

The letter from the horror, accepting the invitation to the awards ceremony, was waiting in our room when we got back, including the sickening lines, 'I hope there will be a LOT of fans there to see my triumph!' and 'I always knew that Twilight was destined for great things!'

The poor girl had swallowed our story straight away. Still, there was no time for pity. We had a horror to rid the world of.

Renesmee

I was rather excited about the awards ceremony. I had won Book of the Century! Well, I always knew that Twilight would one day get the recognition it deserves. After all, being written by me, how could it not?

I had trouble picking out a dress for the ceremony. In the end we had to fly to the Chanel headquarters and have a bespoke dress commissioned just for me. It was rather expensive, well over the cost of an average Mercedes, but I think I'm worth it. Besides, it looks fabulous.

Friday was spent in a whirl of beauty salons, pamper treatment, and a half-hour session of signing with my fans, which I think was incredibly generous seeing that my time is far more precious than theirs.

By Friday night, I was pretty much ready for the big night. The limo for arriving in was ordered, the dress was made, the speech was written (OK, so maybe I went to a speechwriter for that, but I'm a busy person! And I did make a couple of amendments, so it was mostly my work).

All that was left to do for Saturday was my fake tan, massage, manicure, pedicure, hair, waxing, exfoliation, makeup, and false eyelashes. And Auntie Alice and Auntie Rosalie could do all that at home.

I could not wait.

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