Four pieces of paper, one name on each. I fold them tightly, and place them in a teacup. I shake the teacup vigorously.
I present the cup to Bob, and he carefully selects one.
He has a little trouble getting the tiny piece of paper unfolded, as his hands are trembling slightly. I reach out to help him, but he pushes my hand away, determined to continue.
Diva cries softly from her perch on the back of the sofa.
He succeeds in getting the torn bit fully unfolded, but the glaring winter light coupled with the back light from his computer screen makes my light script difficult to read.
He moves his hand slightly, and the name suddenly becomes clear to us both.
"Mamacita!" we cry in unison. We weep with joy and decide to open a bottle of champagne to celebrate.
Okay so, Mamacita, I guess that means you won. Congratulations! You will soon smell of urinal cakes, much to the envy of all your friends! Please send your name and address to firstname.lastname@example.org.