Snippet: I Watch Too Much TV

["sochankitsune" <annelise@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

A young girl wanders through Sunnydale's overactive cemetary. She 
stops before a grave marked with the name Shelly Webster. She kneels, 
and arranges a bouquet of white roses. Tears drip down her cheeks, 
tears that become lost in a sudden downpour.
"Goddamit," she mutters, "why does it have to rain *all* the time?"
She picks up a single white rose and carries it over to the next 
grave, where she places it reverently on top. This grave bears the 
name Eric Draven. Rain spatters down onto the granite, darkening the 
stone.
A large crow alights upon the grave and pecks at it.
"Ooh, scary!" Elly, the young girl, says. "Are you, like, the night 
watchman?"
The crow blinks, then squawks violently as a hand reaches out and 
snaps its neck.
"Good eatin' on one of these, little girlie." A rough voice 
proclaims. "But not as good as what you'll taste like..." The vampire 
reaches for Elly and appears a little puzzled as it explodes into a 
cloud of dust.
"You wanna be more careful around here," Spike tells her. "Never 
know what might crawl up on out of the ground."
Below them, Draven's corpse happily continued to rot.

*

Buffy Summers awoke to a glorious spring day. The sun was shining, 
birds were singing, Willow was teasing her nipples...
"Willow!" Buffy sat upright like a shot.
"Morning!" Willow gave her a 100 watt smile. "Want some breakfast?"
Buffy pressed her lips tightly together. Then, as an afterthought, 
her legs.
"We have pancakes," Willow urged.
"No, you haven't!" Xander called from downstairs.
"Willow," Buffy started. "I know you're all gay now and all, but..." 
Buffy broke off as Willow removed her pyjamas.
"But...?" Willow prompted, as she shut the bedroom door.
"Ah, fuck it."

*

Darkness shrouds the mysterious figure as he labours on a crude 
workbench. Eery music plays in the background, crackling now and 
then, as if someone in this world still uses a record player. As our 
eyes adjust to the gloom, we can see the figure is possibly a 
janitor, for we are within a large boiler room. The only light in the 
room emanates from a crack in the blinds over a small window, and 
from the fiery flickers leaking from the creaking boiler.
The man seems intent upon his work. He's holding a grimy workglove, 
and as we stare in abject curiosity we see him slash away the 
fingertips with a razor blade. He stares at the razor thoughtfully, 
before placing it carefully on the oily wooden surface and casting 
around for the fishing knives that lay upon an antique mantel. The 
blades are thin, slightly curved, and very sharp.
His breathing deepens, and wheezes a little. Although we can't see 
his face clearly, he seems kinda reminiscent of that guy from 'V'. 
He's tinkering now with a screwdriver, assembling a spidery apparatus 
from junk metal. Then he attaches the old workglove, and finally the 
blades.
He puts his gnarled hand into the glove, and makes experimental 
swishes in the air. Particles of light flicker where his fingers have 
been, as though the blades are so supernaturally sharp they can cut 
the very air molecules in two.
"Groovy," he mutters.
He steps before a mirror and preens. Cocking his head to one side, 
he attempts to straighten his red and black-striped jersey.
A shame he forgot to remove the glove first.
"Bugger," he croaked, as his insides became outsides.

*

The morning faded into early afternoon. Buffy remained in bed with 
Willow and played shiver-me-cabin. (A game Tara'd taught Willow after 
discussions with Anya.) Finally, ravaged and exhausted, they decided 
to get up and face the day.
"I'm hungry," Buffy declared. "I'm going to go raid the fridge."
Willow shrugged into her tight sweater.
"No point!" Xander called from downstairs, muffled by chewing.
Willow cast around for her panties. "I'm going to the jail to pump 
Jonathon for information. He may know where Warren is."
Buffy nodded. "Careful," she admonished. "That sounds suspiciously 
like this snippet may have a plot."
"Eek!" Willow paled.

*

Riley and Sam sped along in the RileyMobile. The languid sounds of 
Britney Spears seemed muted as the baying of a wolf echoed from 
somewhere outside.
"Werewolf?" Riley wondered.
"There," Sam pointed.
Riley blinked. "What, where?"
"There wolf," Sam replied as she pointed into Sunnydale's 
woodlands. "There castle," she added as she spotted a honking great 
castle in the middle of Sunnydale's business district.
Riley blinked again. "Why are you talking like that?" he asked.
Sam shrugged. "I thought you wanted me to."

*

Willow approached Jonathon in his prison cell.
"You know why I've come," she intoned, dark magic leaking from her 
eyes.
Jonathon nodded slowly. "I've nothing to say to you," he 
oxymoroned. Behind him Andrew snored.
"I want my questionnaire!" Willow demanded.
Jonathon stared at Willow curiously. "A census taker once tried to 
test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti... 
Leave for your Slayer, my little Willow tree..."
Willow sighs, and decides she can do little but take his advice and 
depart. As she does so, Miggs, a weirdo in the next cell, screams 
out "I bit my wrist so I can die! See how it bleeds?" Semen spattered 
from the weirdo's hand and runs down Willow's cheek.
"Is it any wonder I'm gay?" she implores the world in general.
Jonathon suddenly steps forward with renewed interest in his 
questionnaire. "you're gay?" he asks. "Cool."

*

Muldoon edges closer to the Raptor pit. The pit, a big hole in the 
ground covered by a thin wire mesh, suddenly ignites with a shower of 
sparks as a Raptor slams into it.
"These raptors are too damn dangerous," Muldoon growls. "One of them 
tunneled out this morning. Ripped off a boys arm before I could do 
anything about it."
Hammond gasps. "You didn't... Tell me you didn't kill it?"
"Nah," Muldoon sighs. "It escaped into the trees."
Hammond mops at his forehead. "Oh, that's okay then. Wouldn't want 
*that* on my conscience."
He peers out from the Jurassic house, centred in Sunnydale's zoo.
"Maybe the hyenas'll get it," Muldoon ponders.

*

Warren ran between the trees, pursued by an evil presence. He'd 
tried everything, robot decoys, crazy-glue. Exploding box with wings. 
He turned to his two new sidekicks.
"We'd better hurry. The rendezvous is ten, maybe twelve miles at 
most! We're almost there, but the chopper won't wait."
"Warren," the JonathonBot whined. "This thing doesn't care about who 
we are or whether we're human. We need to make a stand... or there 
won't be anyone left to make that chopper."
"He's right," AndrewBot chipped in, surprised at the sudden impulse 
to override his lacky-code. "And there's something else... When you 
shot at it..."
"Blood!" Warren chuckled. "If it bleeds, we can kill it!"
Warren burst into maniacal laughter which ended as a raptor 
unexpectedly burst out of the undergrowth and ripped him apart.
"Hey!" Willow caught up, severely out of breath. Her hair seemed all 
skanky and dirty, no surprise after a day of tepid gay sex with the 
Slayer. "No fair! That was my job." She sulked, and slunk back to 
Buffy with her tail between her legs.
And new raptor-skin boots.

*

End Snippet.