Okay, the ten runners-up, nine of whose names have been thus far revealed, know that they're not among the Top Ten or winners of any of the special awards, thus being deprived being skewered by the poison pen of franksolich.
They can breathe easy; their suspense is over with.
Now's a good time to let two other primitives off the hook, so that they may go to work Monday morning carefree and in good cheer, knowing that they're not part of the Top Ten.
Much to my personal relief, they didn't make it, because writing awards for them would strain my literary abilities to the limit, possibly breaking them, turning franksolich utterly inarticulate and incoherent.
I really sweated that one, or perhaps even both, of them would make the cut, and that professlonal obligations in writing the awards for my fellow alum Skins and my good pal Manny would destroy any goodwill between us.
But whew, they didn't make it.