MiSTed: Willow the Vampire Slayer? (2/4) [corrected]
Peter Milan
Original Story by Lord Bowler
Part 2
[Everybody files back in.]
TOM: I warned you...
MIKE: He caught me by surprise.
>Willow the Vampire Slayer?
>by Lord Bowler
TOM: Hey, you're the one writing the story. If you don't know...
> Willow and Co. belong to Joss Whedon and Warner Bros. No Copyright
> infringement is intended. The story and all new characters belong to
me.
>
> Part Three
CROW: This time, it's still mostly business, but next time, it's personal!
> "Kidnapped?" Giles asked incredulously.
MIKE: [Giles] Fiction, you fools! Under "S", damn your eyes!
> "That's what the policeman said." Buffy continued "Sometime between
>midnight and 2 a.m. they figure."
> "Did he say anything else?"
TOM: [Xander] Something about "dead as a doornail." I wasn't really
listening.
CROW: [muttering] Jagoff.
> "No just asked a lot of questions.
TOM: [fuming] Well, No sounds very talkative, doesn't he?!
MIKE: That's the last one, Tommy.
> Is there anyone you can think of that
>would want to harm Willow? When did you see her last? Yadda Yadda Yadda."
CROW: Did you shoot her with a tranquilizer dart and chain her up in your
basement, Why did we find a plastic bag filled with her old eyelashes
in your desk, just questions, questions, questions.
> Buffy replied. "They'll never find her. They don't have any idea what
>they're up against. This whole thing is Hellmouthy, I can just feel it."
> "I quite agree. Very... Hellmouthy" Giles concurred, barely able to
get
>the last word out.
MIKE: [Giles] Must resist urge...to beat proper grammar into her...
> "But the question is how do we go about finding
>Willow?"
> "If she's even still alive. Those bloodsuckers that grabbed her have
>probably killed her or worse turned her into one of them." Xander fretted.
CROW: Maybe even...*choke* TIME-SHARES! AMWAY! Oh, the raw HORROR!
> "It wasn't vampires." Buffy comforted Xander "The police said the
back
>door had been broken in. Vampires can't enter a home uninvited. And if
>whoever it was just wanted Willow dead they would have found her body by
>now."
> "What then a werewolf, satanic cult...?" Xander asked.
CROW: Wow! Satanic cults are bad enough! A werewolf satanic cult would
kick ASS!
> "Well the moon was far from full last night so I think we can rule
out any
>form of Lycanthrope." Giles conjectured "But some sort of cult is a
>possibility. We really need to get a look at the police report. There
>might be some salient clue the police have over looked."
> "Which would normally involve Willow illegally breaking into the
Police's
>computer." Buffy observed "But since she's not here, what about Miss
>Calendar?"
MIKE: [Giles} What about her? You're saying I secretly lust after her,
aren't you? WHY MUST YOU ALL TORMENT ME SO?!
>
> "Normally I wouldn't do this." the brunette computer science teacher
>stated, as she worked at the keyboard. "But, since this is for Willow,
>I'll make an exception.
CROW: Devotion to Willow knows no boundary.
MIKE: You are _seriously_ creeping me out.
> You didn't see this," she said to Buffy and
>Xander. "Ah. Here we go." she said as the desired file came up "Nothing
>too interest... Now this is odd! They found a tranquilizer dart at the
>scene with enough kick to put a Gorilla to sleep."
TOM: Put out an APB for Liza Minnelli!
> "Why would someone need that powerful of a tranquilizer to grab
Willow?"
>Giles wondered out loud.
MIKE: Well, her grandfather, Grodd Rosenberg, was in town...
TOM: So what are you saying? Willow's part gorilla?
MIKE: I dunno. I just wanted to make a Grodd reference.
> "They wouldn't, unless they thought they were going after someone
much
>stronger than your average person. Someone like me." Buffy concluded.
CROW: Oh, suuuuuure, it's always all about _you_, isn't it, Buffy?
TOM: Well, it is her show.
> "Why would someone think Willow is the Slayer?" Xander began "Because
I
>was yelling all over the place last night after the attack. Stupid.
>Stupid. Stupid."
ALL: Shame...shame...eternal shame.
> Xander said hitting his forehead, on each stupid, with a
>large book which Giles quickly rescued.
CROW: Keep going, dumbass!
MIKE: Okay, enough with the Xander abuse.
CROW: [muttering] How he became the favorite of the funk queen is beyond me.
MIKE: Stop that!
> "O.K. So assuming that Willow was grabbed by mistake. Who would want
to
>kidnap the Slayer?" Ms. Calendar put forward.
MIKE: Go to the Sarah Michelle Gellar Fan Pages and start with "A".
> "A good question for the two of us to look into." Giles replied.
TOM: But it's not on the agenda for this meeting. Now, as to next
quarter's projected earnings--
> "Meanwhile, Xander, perhaps you and Buffy could ask around and see if
>anyone has noticed anything out of the ordinary recently."
CROW: What, something unusual in Sunnydale? Perish forbid! Why, we're
Bedford Falls without the snow!
> "Willow's in trouble and we're just going to read books and ask
pointless
>questions!" Xander exploded.
TOM: Sounds like a typical Buffy fanfic to me. What's _your_ deal?
MIKE: Aw, come on, this is, what, the third one we've read?
> "We can't do anything for Willow until we know what were up against."
>Giles reminded him. "If you have a better plan, I'd be happy to listen."
> "No." Xander admitted. "I just hate feeling so helpless. Willow's my
best
>friend. I don't know what I'd do if I lost her."
MIKE: See? Compare that to "A Fear of Love, A Fear of Battle." Remember?
Xander stuffing his gob with chocolate cake?
> "Don't worry." Buffy said, putting a hand on his shoulder to comfort
him.
>"We'll find her."
CROW: Stay alive, no matter what occurs! I will find you!
>
> Elsewhere
> The morning sun streaked through the south-facing windows
illuminating the
>form of the beautiful young redhead as she slept.
MIKE: [chuckling] I think I know an author who's nursing a serious crush
on Ms. Rosenberg here.
TOM: You got a problem with that, skintube?
CROW: Yeah, don't mess with the funk queen, Nelson!
> She was dressed in a
>Winnie-the-Pooh nightgown, which was more than a little out of place in
>her opulent surroundings.
CROW: So she tore it off, exposing herself to...she does look lovely
in her nightgown, doesn't she? *sigh*
MIKE: I think I like the smutty asides better...
> The bed was a huge hand-carved mahogany
>four-posted antique, covered in white silk sheets, and set in the middle
>of an enormous bedroom. To either side of the bed were matching night
>tables, each holding a vase of fresh-cut flowers. To one side of the bed,
>a love seat and a pair of matching chairs surmounted a highly polished
>coffee table. On the other side were a large wardrobe and a door leading
>to an equally luxurious bathroom. On the opposite wall from the bed was a
>pair of double doors.
TOM: Today on "Martha Stewart Living," we'll show you how to spruce up
that old oubliette and make your hostage really feel at home!
> Beside the doors, sat a writing desk and at the desk
>sat a maid. She was, as they say, getting on in years,
CROW: Or, as they say, old and hideous and covered in warts.
MIKE: YOUTH GONE WILD!
> and was tired from
>sitting up all night waiting for her young charge to wake. Fortunately,
>she would have to wait no longer, as Willow picked that moment to awaken.
MIKE: [Willow] I went home with you?!
> "Good morning young one, would you like something for breakfast?" she
>asked warmly.
TOM: [Maid] We have a lovely selection of old table scraps!
> "Yeah. That would be nice." Willow, groggy and disoriented, managed
to
>reply.
> "Very good. The bathroom is right through there." the maid offered
>pointing to the door on the north wall. "And there are clothes in the
>wardrobe.
CROW: [Maid] And _not_ a magic door to Narnia. So don't look.
> I'm sure you'll be able to find something that fits. Will there
>be anything else?" She asked helpfully.
> "No. Nothing else. Thank you." Willow replied only slightly less
groggily.
>And with that the maid slipped from the room.
TOM: Huh. She's unstuck in time. Neat.
> *This is certainly a pleasant dream,* Willow thought to herself, as
>climbed out of the bed. *Not a vampire in sight.*
TOM: [Willow] It's not as good as that dream where I had Xander tied up
with a feather boa, but...
MIKE: Okay, just because he's laying off the sick jokes doesn't mean _you_
have to pick up the slack.
TOM: Don't judge me, Mike.
> Willow walked to the bathroom, and quickly locating the shower,
adjusted
>the brass fittings until the water temperature was to her taste, slipped
>off her nightgown
[Pause.]
MIKE: Uh...shut up, Crow?
CROW: I didn't say anything.
MIKE: Oh. ...Would you?
CROW: Gimme a second.
> and stepped into the stream of water. It wasn't until
>the water had been running over her for several seconds that it suddenly
>occurred to her that
CROW: She had finally become a woman, and her fabulously sinewy body
cried out to...*sigh* She was so polite to that maid. Willow's
so sweet!
[MIKE and TOM stare at Crow in growing horror.]
> her entire conversation with the maid had been in
>French.
> *Why would I be dreaming in French?* she wondered to herself,
MIKE: For France is the Devil's nation, despised by all good folk!
> as she
>lathered the soap and began to wash. A sudden sharp pain, as she washed
>her stomach, made it clear to her that this was no dream. When she looked
>for the source of the pain she saw a large and still tender
TOM: Hickey!
MIKE: Cr--oh. Never mind.
> puncture mark.
>Suddenly memories flood over her. She remembered waking in the middle of
>the night to find two masked men in her bedroom.
CROW: Uh...hi. Is this Chase Meridian's room?
> She kicked one in the
>groin and threw a lamp at the other and bolted for the door, where she
>came face to face with a third man.
MIKE: [Willow] Wow! I loved you in "Citizen Kane!"
> The third man pointed a pistol at her
>and shot her. She remembered a sharp pain and thinking *Oh my God. I'm
>dying.* Then blackness.
> Willow quickly rinsed the lather from her body,
TOM: Pausing only to...uh...let her hands caress...geez, Mike, how
does he do this?! I can't keep it up much longer!
> and bolted from the
>shower. Stopping only momentarily to wrap herself in
CROW: Seaweed, to open her pores and lend her skin a healthy glow...
> a plush bathrobe, she
>returned to the bedroom. The room was as she had left it except that on
>the coffee table sat a silver tray holding, coffee, juice, fruit and an
>assortment of pastries. Willow ignored the food, her only hunger at the
>moment was for an answer to the question "What's going on?", but not
>wanting to face her assailants in a robe she
TOM: Tossed it off and went to kick ass.
MIKE: Willow IS "Kekko Kamen!"
> moved to the wardrobe. She
>opened it and taking one look inside exclaimed "They have got to be
>kidding."
TOM: [Willow] I'm not wearing a Queen Amidala outfit for anybody!
>
>
> The vampire squirmed helplessly, as the Slayer knelt on its chest
>effectively pinning in down.
CROW: I didn't realize that Giles had taught her the "snicker-snag"
technique!
> "O.K. the game tonight is Holy Water Quiz." Buffy announced while
>uncorking a vial. "The rules are simple. I ask a question, each wrong
>answer results in a dousing of Holy Water of increasing length.
MIKE: And now, here's Jimmy Kimmel to read the categories.
> Question
>Number One: Last night a young redheaded woman staked a vampire. Later
>that night someone thinking she was the Slayer grabbed her. Now what I
>want to know is where is she?"
> "Even if I knew I wouldn't tell you. Bitc....AAARRGGHHH!!!"
CROW: Teas...AAAAARRGGHHHHH!!! Goddess on my knee....AAAARRRGGHHHH!!!
> "That... was a wrong answer." Buffy informed him, as she tipped the
vial.
TOM: Hey, there's an idea for a game show! "Win Ben Stein's Soul!"
CROW: "Kick Ben Stein's Ass!"
MIKE: "Shave Ben Stein's Back!"
>
> Willow hurried down the hall looking for someone who could explain to
her
>what was going on.
CROW: If ya find out, you wanna fill us in?
MIKE: Patience.
> She was dressed in boots, black leather pants, and a
>black leather jacket over a white T-shirt. The pants and jacket were
>sturdily constructed with extra protection over the joints. Her hair,
>still wet, hung straight down in back.
TOM: Willow in leather?! This is the BEST FANFIC EVER!
MIKE: Yeah, well, that's what you thought about that Scully skinny-dipping
thing...
> As she rounded a corner she came upon a tall young man with green
eyes and
>sandy blond hair wearing a charcoal gray pinstriped business suit.
MIKE: Sting?!
CROW: No, no. A _young_ man.
MIKE: Ooooohhh. You're mean.
> He was
>the third man, the one who shot her! Before she could react, he said "Good
>morning Slayer or would you prefer Willow?
TOM: I think we'd _all_ prefer Willow.
I trust you had a pleasant
>night's sleep. I apologize for the manner in which you were brought here
>but, as you will learn, it was necessary."
MIKE: Gotta break your will first, you know how it is...
> *What did he just call me?* Willow thought now totally confused. "I'm
>sorry did you just call me 'slayer,'" she asked.
> "Of course." he replied, "Who else would be prowling around Sunnydale
at
>night with stakes and Holy Water, killing vampires.
TOM: Buffy? Giles? Xander? Faith? Oz? Kendra? Wesley? Occasionally
Cordelia?
> I realize you have
>been taught never to reveal your identity as the Slayer, but rest assured
>your secret is safe with us. The Order has been aware of the Slayers for
>almost a thousand years."
CROW: [Mr. B Natural] Knew your Watcher, I did!
> "Excuse me. But just what is going on?" Willow asked still trying to
get
>her bearings.
TOM: Well, Dawson and Joey broke up again, and Pacey's still--
> "I should really let Master Bartholomew answer that. Please follow
Me."
MIKE: And worship Me, for I am your new God.
> he
>said and quickly led her to a large office.
> The office was paneled and filled with bookcases and filing cabinets.
>Along the back wall stretched an enormous aquarium filled with tropical
>fish. In the center sat the biggest desk Willow had ever seen in her life.
MIKE: Well, you know what they say about a man with a big desk...he can
use it as a pretend fort.
>Behind the desk, in a high backed leather chair, sat a slender hawkish man
>in his late sixties working at a desktop computer. He had hazel eyes and
>thinning gray hair which was pulled back into a ponytail.
CROW: Oh, no! Michael Des Barres! Flee! He's too strong for us!
> Stopping his work he turned to Willow and said "Ah. Slayer how good
of you
>to join us."
MIKE: And may I say how much I enjoyed "South of Heaven!"
> "Please, call me Willow." She said, not meaning it, as she sat in a
chair
>opposite the desk.
> "Willow." he repeated. The young man was about to leave when Master
>Bartholomew called "No Eric stay, have a seat" which he did. "You're
>probably wonder what this is all about."
MIKE: And whether or not it is just for the moment we live.
TOM: ...what?!
> Bartholomew began "Well it has to
>do with..."
CROW: ...my secret plan to have all of the stars of "My Stepmother Is An
Alien" loofa my back!
> *Please don't say 'a prophecy'.* Willow thought.
> "... a prophecy..." Bartholomew continued.
ALL: Whaa whaa whaa whaa whaaaaaaa...
> *Damn*
> "But I should really start at the beginning. A thousand years ago a
demon,
>Zaxerathus the Devastator, escaped into our world. He gathered the
>vampires into an army at his side and prepared to sweep across the world.
MIKE: And only Sir Daniel Fortesque stood in his way...
TOM: Too bad he couldn't get past the clown puzzle on the
Asylum Grounds, huh?
MIKE: _You_ try it sometime.
>Fortunately, a sorcerer named Ceradel, created a talisman capable of
>stopping Zaxerathus, and gave it to the Slayer of that time period. She
>battled the demon and in the end he was driven from our realm."
>Bartholomew explained.
MIKE: Zaxerathus...isn't that the Ghost Rider's real name?
> "So where do I come in?" Willow asked fearing she knew the answer all
too
>well.
TOM: Well, first you said something about lighting your hair on fire and
doing the hokey pokey, but of course dumb ol' Xander wasn't paying
attention, and then...
MIKE: Stifle!
> "As I said Zaxerathus was driven from our realm, but he was not
destroyed.
>It was prophesized that in a thousand years he would return. That his
>return would not go unwatched for the Order was established with the task
>of preserving the knowledge and preparing for the final battle.
TOM: "That his return would not go unwatched for the..." Dear GOD!
It's Syntax of DEATH!
> In this
>final battle the Order would be represented by a champion. To find the
>Champion the prophecy tells us we must seek the Slayer. And so we did, and
>here you are" Bartholomew concluded.
> "O.K. But why did you grab me?" Willow asked, "You could have just
asked."
CROW: Yeah! Bunch of jerks!
> "The prophecy says that the Champion would not come willingly." Eric
>replied.
> "So you shot me with a tranquilizer gun?
TOM: These guys suck! We hate 'em!
CROW: I call jihad!
> You still could have asked.
MIKE: Yeah! Politeness costs nothing and--oh, no. I'm not joining
this little Willow cult of yours.
TOM & CROW: Join us...join us...
> Take
>it from me prophesies rarely mean what you think they mean."
MIKE: [Willow] I mean, once a fortune teller told me I'd lose my virginity
to a werewolf. How likely is _that_?
> Willow
>admonished them. "Besides, I'm still not sure what you need me for.
>Couldn't you just lock him up in a book or something?"
TOM: [Rocky Squirrel] But that trick never works!
> Willow asked liking
>the situation less and less with every passing minute.
> "Alas, Zaxerathus is too powerful for that, however as I said there
is a
>talisman that can resist Zaxerathus." Bartholomew said while lifting a
>gleaming sword from behind the desk. "This is the Defender. It is a
>barrier beyond which Zaxerathus cannot pass."
CROW: And if you use Defender, you can beat his hyperspace.
> "A barrier? What is that supposed to mean?" Willow asked still leery
but
>also strangely intrigued by the sword.
MIKE: Well, when you put something in the way of something else...
> "Legend has it that a circle drawn with the sword becomes a trap from
>which Zaxerathus cannot escape as long as sword and wielder are within."
>Eric replied.
TOM: Legend also has it that John Wesley Hardin once shot a man for snorin'
too loud. What's your point?
> "So I'm supposed to draw circle around this demon, step inside with
it and
>hack away at it 'till its dead? It can't be that simple" Willow observed.
MIKE: Being locked in a magic circle with a demon sounds _simple_
to her?
CROW: She can handle it. You know. Funk queen.
> "Well no it isn't. The Defender is more than just a weapon." Eric
replied.
>"Unfortunately, the records of the Defender's powers and how to use them
>were lost in a fire in 1382." Eric offered sheepishly.
TOM: [Eric] That's the last time we invite the O'Learys over for dinner,
let
me tell you.
> "However, our
>records tell us that the Slayer has an intuitive understanding of weapons,
>so we thought..."
TOM: [Master B] You would do that voodoo that you do so well.
> "You thought; You'd grab me. Hand me your sword. I'd magically know
what
>to do. Chop up the demon, and everyone would live happily ever after."
>Willow finished incredulously.
MIKE: [Eric] Well, it works in Sonic the Hedgehog fanfics!
> "That was the plan." Bartholomew admitted.
> "Calling that a plan is giving it a whole lot of credit." Willow
said,
>feeling far more aggressive than usual. *Maybe it's the leather* she
>mused.
CROW: *sigh* Even in leather, she looks cute and perky.
> "And it won't work because, I'm not the Slayer."
> The color drained from the men's faces. They stared at her for long
>moments hoping
TOM: ...that the fanfic would come to a sudden stop, but there would be
no escape this day.
> she was lying, but realizing what she had told them was the
>truth. Grabbing Eric by the arm Master Bartholomew dragged him from the
>room "Excuse us for the moment won't you." he said.
MIKE: [Groucho] Pardon me while I have a strange interlude.
> As soon as the door shut Willow was at the computer. In moments she
had
>bypassed the security. Almost as fast she was on the Internet and
>connecting with the computer in the Sunnydale High School Library. Within
>a minute she had planted a message there and was back in her seat as if
>nothing had happened when Bartholomew and Eric re-entered the room.
TOM: Uh-huh. Awfully convenient, this.
MIKE: [Willow] Come on, come on, connect...Server Not Responding?!
Stupid France Online!
> "As you can imagine your news has left us more than a little
disturbed.
>Eric will see that you get back to your room where you can get something
>to eat and finish drying off."
CROW: [Master B] And then KILL you! MU HA HA HA--*ahem*
> Bartholomew said, "Meanwhile, I'll try to
>figure out a solution to this mess before Zaxerathus rises."
> "Just when does he rise?" Willow asked hesitantly.
TOM: [Master B] Usually not until 10 am. He really ought to give up
the chat rooms.
> "Midnight of the new moon in three night's time." Answered
Bartholomew
>wearily.
>
>
> It was after midnight in the library, and the searchers were
beginning to
CROW: Find evidence that Natalie Wood had been adopted by the Indians!
>lose hope of ever finding Willow. Xander and Buffy had spent the day
>searching all over town for any hint of what had happened to Willow, and
>after the sun had set Buffy interrogated every vampire she could find to
>no avail.
MIKE: But does she even BOTHER to ask the zombies! NO! This anti-zombie
prejudice of hers is really starting to HONK ME OFF!
> Back at the library Giles had searched hundreds of tomes for a
>clue as to who had taken Willow, while Ms. Calendar had searched
>cyberspace. Both had come up empty.
TOM: So they gave up and went to play skee-ball.
> Buffy did her best to console Xander
>who was so broken up, he was totally unaware that Buffy was giving him the
>kind of attention he normally would have died for.
CROW: [muttering] Nitwit.
> Then suddenly
>everything changed.
TOM: Everybody turned into hyperintelligent pandas and started juggling
fresh cod!
> "Woah!" Ms Calendar exclaimed as the computer suddenly went crazy.
The
>screen became a frenzy of colors then suddenly a single word kept printing
>over and over on the screen--
CROW: PUDDING!
> 'Zaxerathus.'
> At the sight of this Giles quickly went to his office and retrieving
a
>journal, returned.
TOM: [Giles] Dear Diary: My word, but Ms. Calendar has a bodacious set
of--uh, wrong journal.
> "Who or what is a Zaxerathus?" Buffy asked moving to look over Ms
>Calendar's shoulder.
MIKE: And how'd Willow know how to spell it?
CROW: [adoringly] Willow can do anything.
MIKE: Oh, right. Funk queen of the universe.
> "Zaxerathus the Devastator, was a demon in the late 10th century."
Giles
>read from the journal. "At the end of the 10th century with the year 1000
>approaching may people thought the end of the world was coming.
CROW: Books like "How to Profit from the Y1K Scare" were published.
> Zaxerathus
>came to our world to make sure they were right."
> "A Sorcerer named Maladel, made a deal with this demon, freedom in
>exchange for power and eternal life.
MIKE: [Giles] Unfortunately, this was before ironic punishments were
invented,
so he got away with it.
> Once freed Zaxerathus gathered the
>vampires into and army and prepared to destroy Europe and then the world.
>Another sorcerer named Ceradel, a colleague of Maladel's forged a powerful
>weapon, and gave it to the Slayer of that time."
TOM: Who immediately traded it for some shiny things.
> "So then this Zaxerathus was killed?" Buffy asked not really
expecting a
>yes.
> "No. The Slayer fought Zaxerathus for hours. Despite the sword's
power,
>which hurt Zaxerathus terribly, he only grew more powerful as the battle
>raged.
CROW: The madder Zaxerathus get, the stronger Zaxerathus get!
> Finally, he had the Slayer beaten when Ceradel leapt into the
>battle. There was an enormous flash of light and when it was over Ceradel,
>the Slayer and the demon were all gone, only the sword remained." Giles
>concluded.
CROW: [Giles] This legend proved rather unpopular, and was mocked by a
jester and his two Punch and Judy dolls.
> "So what does this have to do with Willow?" Xander asked afraid of
the
>answer.
MIKE: And couldn't she just as easily have sent off a message saying exactly
where she was, or...
CROW: Don't question Willow!
MIKE: I'm just saying--
CROW: SILENCE!
> "After Ceradel vanished an order was formed to hold the sword and
prepare
>in case of Zaxerathus' return." Giles said.
> "And now the millenium has come 'round again and Zaxerathus is going
to
>pick up were he left off." Ms Calendar finished for him.
TOM: Because the millennium MEANS something! It REALLY does!
>Willow the Vampire Slayer?
>by Lord Bowler
TOM: I take it that title is wholly fictitious?
CROW: [Bowler] Nah, I just made it up.
> Willow and Co. belong to Joss Whedon and Warner Bros. No Copyright
> infringement is intended. The story and all new characters belong to
me.
>
> Part Four
MIKE: Okay, here it is...
TOM: *ahem* THIS TIME IT'S PERSONAL!
> Willow, her jacket flung on the bed, sat on the love seat with a
towel
>around her neck nibbling at a pastry. In one of the chairs across from her
>sat Simon, another member of the Order that Eric had passed her off to
>outside of Master Bartholomew's office saying he had an urgent matter to
>attend to.
TOM: Something about a man and a horse...
> Simon was in his late-twenties, with short black hair and brown
>eyes. He stood about six feet tall, and was solidly built under the navy
>turtle neck and tan slacks he was wearing.
CROW: As opposed to the other Order guys, who were constructed entirely
out of bread pudding.
> "Mind if I ask you a few questions?" Willow asked trying to sound
casual.
> "Not at all, Champion." Simon replied.
> "Woah. I'm not the Slayer or the Champion. I'm just Willow." She
quickly
>corrected.
MIKE: Commander of the Enterprise's Kids' Crew, Heir to the throne of
Essex, Queen of the Borg...
CROW: Ahem.
> "Whatever you say. Willow." He allowed but didn't sound too convinced
by
>her protests.
> "O.K. first." Willow began. "When can I go home? My parents must be
out of
>their minds with worry."
CROW: I saw your mom in "Gingerbread", Wil. She was out of her mind long
before this.
MIKE: I thought "Gingerbread" takes place after this.
CROW: Yeah, but you've got to figure that the deep-seated seeds of
dysfunction would--
TOM: Crow, I'll give you a shiny new quarter if you shut the hell up.
> "That might take a couple of days to arrange since you have no
Passport,
>and there are no records of your entry, we'll have to take you back the
>same way we got you here."
TOM: In a crate, stuffed with styrofoam peanuts.
> "A couple of days! Why? How did you get me here? And for that matter
where
>exactly is here?" Willow asked a trace of panic slipping into her voice.
MIKE: You don't work for a big guy who looks like a bison, do you?
> "Well here is an estate outside Nice in the Cote D'Azur region of
France.
>How we got you here was in a chartered private jet. And why it will take
>so long is that the jet in question is a Gulfstream V. It's the only model
>with the necessary range. And unfortunately its brand new and there are
>very few available so it may take a while to find one for lease." Simon
>explained.
TOM: Plus, Travolta's going to be your pilot. Hope that's okay.
> "Did you say France?"
MIKE: [Willow] I'm in FRANCE?! AHHHHHHH! UNCLEAN! UNCLEAN!
> Willow asked mentally calculating time zone changes
>and flight times. "What day is it? How long was I out?"
CROW: [Willow] Are there ducks here? Do you like gravy? What is the true
nature of man?
TOM: What's with the ducks?
CROW: I like ducks.
> "It's Friday. You were out for about 24 hours. We gave you a bit more
of
>the tranquilizer than we should have." He admitted. "After all we thought
>you were
MIKE: A large, crazed bear. It seems kinda silly now.
> the Slayer."
> "You keep saying 'we,' I take it you were one of the ones who grabbed
me?"
>Willow inquired.
CROW: [Willow] Did you touch me with your Frenchness?!
> "Yes." Simon said frankly. "And by the way you kick really hard." He
>amended bringing both a small smile and a blush to Willow's face, as she
>remember exactly where she had kicked him.
TOM: Right _in_ the Frenchness, apparently.
CROW: Ooh la la...
> "I'd like to get a look at that prophecy as long as I'm here." Willow
>stated.
> "I can't see any problem with that." He replied. "How's your Latin?"
CROW: [Willow] I set him free. There's a white Anglo-Saxon Protestant
that follows me around, though!
> "Shaky." Willow admitted. She had picked up quite a bit helping Giles
with
>his research, but had never formally studied the dead tongue, preferring
>to study the more romantic French in school. Not that, that wasn't coming
>in handy on this trip.
MIKE: Yeah, there's nothing more friendly than gargling phlegm while
you speak. Wales must be the most romantic country of all...
TOM: Feeling a little xenophobic today, Mike?
> "Is there anything else?" Simon asked.
TOM: No. Life is despair. Time is fleeting. All men die.
> "I don't suppose you could find some normal clothes for me. This
whole Mad
>Max look just isn't my style." Willow replied.
MIKE: [Willow] I'm really more of a Snake Plissken gal.
> "That was Eric's doing. I think it comes from watching too much Xena,
>myself." Simon added conspiratorially. "Don't worry I'm sure we can find
>you something. If there's nothing else I'll check on those clothes and let
>you finish your breakfast."
CROW: [Simon] You don't mind if I take these old clothes of yours to
bed with me so I can breathe deep your scent while I sleep,
do ya? Just thought I'd ask.
> "One more thing. You didn't seem too convinced when I said I wasn't
the
>Champion. Why?"
> "Your very perceptive.
CROW: Her very perceptive what? Your very perceptive mother jumped
skillfully
under Nelson's parachute?
MIKE: If I'd had a parachute, I woulda used it by now...
> We didn't just think you were the Slayer because we
>saw you kill a vampire." Simon explained. "The prophecy includes a
>description of the Champion. It says she will be a radiant beauty of fiery
>hair and fair skin."
TOM: Yea, and it shall come that the Champion shall attend band camp,
and there she shall taketh a flute--
MIKE: _No_.
> And leaving Willow to chew on that last fact as well
>as her breakfast Simon left.
TOM: Commas: the bastard scum of punctuation! Who needs 'em? This message
brought to you by the Committee To Keep Run-On Sentences Present In All
Forms of Stories Because Run-On Sentences Are Really Cool And We Really
Like Them And...
MIKE: Enough!
>
> It had been a long night for Giles who had been trying to make last
minute
>travel plans. Buffy and Xander had been sent home with orders to get some
>sleep although neither had slept much.
TOM: Saaaaaaay!
> Ms Calendar had stayed to help with
>the online elements of the trip planning, but had left to teach her first
>class when the three reassembled in the library that morning.
MIKE: [Jenny] Good luck with your whole suicide mission thingy. Too bad
I can't go, but someone's gotta teach home ec to the football
players...
> "...at LaGuardia we'll switch to an Air France flight to Paris, then
>finally change planes a third time at Paris for Nice. Any questions?"
>Giles concluded.
CROW: Where is Joe Merchant?
TOM: Who is killing the great chefs of Europe?
MIKE: Jar Jar Binks: What's that about?
> "Yeah explain to me why we have to change plains in Minneapolis."
Xander
>asked, "Wouldn't a direct flight New York be quicker."
MIKE: [Giles] Of course! Why didn't _I_ think of that? Stupid, stupid
Giles! Pardon me, I just have to go lop off a finger to prove
my shame...
> "Of course but unfortunately they were all booked. It's not easy
booking a
>trip to Paris the night before...Passports!" Giles exclaimed, as his train
>of thought derailed.
CROW: Killing sixty and causing massive traffic delays.
> "The night before passports?" Buffy inquired.
TOM: And all through the house, not a creature was stirring, because
the next morning they were headed for Kuala Lampur to score
some killer hash.
[Mike looks at him.]
> "I completely forgot about the need to get you two passports. That
will
>take days." Giles fretted.
> "It's O.K. Giles I have a passport." Buffy assured him. "Before this
whole
>Slayer thing started my mother used to take me with her on art buying
>trips during the summers."
TOM: [Buffy] When I wasn't burning stuff down, that is.
> "Well that's good." Giles replied somewhat relieved. "Xander I don't
>suppose you have one?"
> "Actually yeah, I mean a guy never knows when he might have to flee
the
>country on a moments notice." Xander deadpanned.
CROW: Xander's family's in the Cosa Nostra, aren't they?
> "Excellent. Now all we need to do is figure out how to explain this
trip
>to your parents." Giles stated.
> "No problem. As far as our parents are concerned we're spending the
week
>in the woods earning extra credit in science." Buffy told Giles, a little
>pleased to be ahead of her Watcher for once.
TOM: [Xander] And since my family doesn't love me, it'll be easy
for me to disappear for a week!
MIKE: Jeez, Tom!
TOM: Well, that's the show's subtext, isn't it?
>
>
> Willow sat at a table in the estate's library studying the text of
the
>prophecy. It was slow going.
TOM: Tell us about it.
MIKE: Aw, quit bellyachin'. This is a walk.
> The Latin was archaic even by Giles'
>standards, and unfortunately the only Latin dictionary she had found was
>into French.
CROW: And she didn't want to touch anything with the French Taint upon it.
> After an hour of three-way
MIKE: Saaaaaaaay!
> translation Willow admitted
>defeat, and selected an Agatha Christie novel from the shelves. Her first
>choice was missing so she settled for
TOM: _Big Rod, The Policeman With A Difference_. Little known early work.
> Murder on the Orient Express. *Who'd
>have thought that the big problem with being kidnapped to fight a demon
>would be boredom?* She mused.
CROW: Only the author, apparently...
> As she left the library she stopped and starred at the phone
wondering
>again if she should call her parents. She was sure the Order would let her
>if she asked. But what could she possibly tell them to make them feel
>better, and if for some reason she didn't survive, better not to raise
>their hopes she concluded.
MIKE: This message brought to you by the Misinformation Council!
Misinformation:
It's what's for dinner!
>
>
> The candles flickered, casting a soft glow on the hooded figure as he
>communed with the demonic silhouette that shown through the pentagram on
>one wall. The remaining walls were bare rough-hewn stone. The room itself
>didn't officially exist having been added after a mysterious fire in 1382.
TOM: It was here that Rustin Barr did the Blair Witch's bidding...
> "Is all in readiness?" a voice, like the cries of a thousand
frightened
>children, asked. "If you should fail me..."
CROW: [Voice] I'll sing in the voice like the cries of a thousand frightened
children! Don't make me do "Jump Jive & Wail!"
> "Save your threats for someone who'll be impressed. If I fail you'll
be in
>no position to harm me." A voice as smooth a silk replied.
TOM: Silk woven by A THOUSAND FRIGHTENED CHILDREN!
"But nothing
>will go wrong, I've been manipulating the Order for centuries in the end
>they will help bring about the very thing they were created to prevent."
MIKE: You know, I bet some kind of comical misunderstanding will come
of all this.
> "And what of the girl? Is she the Champion?" the demon asked.
> "Its possible. She might be."
CROW: [Voice] Who cares? I'm hungry. Do we have any pizza rolls?
The hooded figure allowed. "But as long as
>she and the Order believe she isn't. She isn't"
> "Why take any chances? Kill her." The demon ordered.
> "It would alert the Order that something was wrong. But I can see you
have
>your heart set on it, so consider her dead." the hooded one conceded.
TOM: Oooh, does my widdle schnookums want death and destwuction? Yes he
does! Yes he does!
>
>
> Parents students and teachers milled around the battered yellow
school bus
>as Mr. Pritchard the school's latest biology teacher tried to create some
>sort of order out of the chaos.
MIKE: Eventually Mr. Pritchard's fanatical need for order brought about
the death of three students, but that's another story.
> Cordelia was there, and looking none too happy about it. She was
dressed
>in a designer camping ensemble that, while stylish, was far from
>practical. When Buffy and Xander got out of their parents' cars and mixed
>into the group she stared at them with disbelief.
CROW: [Cordy] Damn! That's the last time I buy timers from Crazy
Shecky's House O' Bombs!
> "What are you doing here?" she asked "Shouldn't you be out looking
for
>Willow?"
> "We are." Buffy explained. "This is just a cover for our parents. Its
>
>going to take a while to get Willow back."
TOM: I mean, first we gotta fly the handglider into New York, then we
gotta escape _from_ New York, and it's just this big thing.
> "You know where she is? Where?" Cordelia asked genuinely concerned.
> "The French Riviera." Buffy said knowing it would drive Cordelia
nuts.
CROW: Cordelia fell to the ground, gibbering mindlessly, drool dripping
from her chin...
TOM: [Buffy] Wow! That worked well!
> "The French Riviera?" Cordelia asked in disbelief.
> "Nice to be precise." Buffy added, enjoying watching Cordelia mouth
hang
>open with no noise coming out.
[Mike looks at Crow. Crow looks back, shrugs.]
> "You know you might want to close that before
TOM: I turn this into an NC-17 fanfic!
MIKE: Tom!
TOM: Hey, it gets easier as you go...
> something starts nesting in
>there." Xander suggested, as Buffy's and his parents drove off. As soon as
>they were out of sight Buffy and Xander picked up their bags and hurried
>to Giles' car.
MIKE: This did not go unnoticed by Mr. Pritchard, who swore that one day,
they'd pay. Oh, yes, they'd pay.
> "What is wrong with the world?"
MIKE: Pollution?
CROW: Lack of personal responsibility?
TOM: Shows being cancelled before their time?
> Cordelia asked no one in particular. "I'm
>getting a D in science and I'm exiled to flea and tick country. Willow is
>kidnapped and she ends up in Nice. I no longer have any doubts, the
>universe is officially out to get me."
TOM: That's what happens when you mess with the funk queen of the
universe, Missy!
CROW: Bow down before Willow, insect chick!
>
>
> Willow lay back in bed, a book propped open on her chest, engrossed
in the
>adventures of Agatha Christie's fussy little Belgian detective, she was
>wearing her Winnie-the-Pooh nightgown again. They had provided her with a
>gorgeous silk one, but she didn't think she could sleep in something that
>she was sure cost more than her entire wardrobe back home.
CROW: *sigh* She's so down-to-earth...
MIKE: _That_'s the reaction you get from Willow and a silk nightgown?!
CROW: Yeah. Why?
[Mike shakes his head.]
> Willow stifled a yawn.
TOM: She ain't the only one...
> Poirot had just gather the suspects together and
>was about to unmask the killer. Willow struggled to keep her eyes open,
>she wanted to finish this tonight. It was strange back home she had no
>problem putting in long nights as a Slayerette, but tonight she just
>couldn't stay awake.
MIKE: Why doesn't she just drink some coffee?
CROW: Because [brief maniacal cackle] it makes her jumpy.
> Finally giving in, she closed the book, pulled up the
>covers and was asleep before she could even put out the lights.
> Sometime later, the door to Willow's room quietly opened and a robed and
>masked figure slipped in.
CROW: And the password, sir?
TOM: Fidelio.
CROW: Yes, sir, but the second password for Willow's room...?
> He went straight to Willow's bed. He wasn't
>worried about her waking, the sleeping drug he slipped into her evening
>snack would assure she slept heavily. He pulled a dagger from under his
>robe and lifting high in the air plunged it straight into Willow's chest.
MIKE: Yikes!
CROW: Aw, don't worry about it. Willow's immortal, too. Did I not mention
that?
TOM: Time to go...
[Commercials. In 1994, Penn Jillette went into the studio to film a
documentary about MST3K. A year later, his footage was found.
The Make-Us-Twitch Project--coming soon.]
--
Pete
deu...@yahoo.com
deu...@prodigy.net
"If you start out depressed, everything's
kind of a pleasant surprise." -- Lloyd Dobler