BCWYWF.V1 - Runaways
by Mad-Hamlet
[reviews]
Disclaimer:
All this belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy....Hhheeeerrrr's
JOHNNY!
Drain
Brameged Inc. Proudly Presents
A
Mad-Hamlet Production
Be
Careful What You Wish For v.1
Runaways
Camera
comes up to focus Buffy's feet. She's shuffling along a side walk a
tired, world weary walk. Have in the background a broken child's toy
or slight weather beaten stuffed animal. On the other side of the
street she passes an empty car, it's doors all open the hazard lights
blinking ominously.
Buffy:
Oh no. All my friends, all the
potentials, they have turned away from me. I am here all alone in the
abandoned empty streets of Sunnydale. Dark and hollow are these paved
ways that I know so well, for I echo them internally. Inside I am
dark, empty and hollow; a shell of my former self. I cannot believe
they left me, kicked me out, knocked me to the curb, dropped me like
a hot potato, forced me aside, brushed me off, let me go. But at the
same time I cannot blame them for is this not my own fault? Am I not
responsible for this? Didn't I let them down? Isn't this proper
karma? Cosmic justice? Someone get me a box of nails, I need to nail
myself to a cross; truly I am the most wretched of creatures but also
the most deservingly so. I should be punished, because I have failed
so much-
Fade
to Black
Fade
in on the Cave of The First Evil. Camera spins around from an
overhead orienting on the grinning, Machiavellian grin of the source
of all human misery, depression, pain, death, woes and Miller Light
Beer: The First Evil, who, currently has taken the shape of Charles
Darwin. Besides him stands an Uber-Vamp with two Bringers flanking
him.
First
Evil(FE): Go and kill Buffy,
she's isolated, alone and weak of spirit. She's also monologuing pure
literary vomit and even I have standards.
Uber-Vamp(UV):
SNORKLE HARGH BLAAGGH! (Yes,
Oh Great Darkness! She shall suffer a slow and painful death. I shall
hit her. Then hit her again! Many many times!)
The UV is very excited. Jumping up and down with a torrent
of drool arching through the air with every uttered word.
FE:
Excellent minion, then you
shall torment her. Turns to leave.
UV:
BURBLEBURL-PATOHARGH KRONCH!
(Her torment shall be legendary! None shall ever be hit as she is!)
Shakes his fist in
the air.
The
FE freezes midstep and turns back to the UV: And
after the hitting you'll use rusty blades, right?
UV:
HARGH!(Hitting!)Shakes
fist.
FE:
Hot iron pokers?
UV:
HARGH!(Hitting!)Shakes
fist.
FE(Looking
desperate): Salt and a serrated
blade?
UV:
HARGH!(Hitting!)
FE:
An all night Jerry Lewis movie
marathon?
UV:
HARGH!(Hitting!)
FE:
An all night Steven Seagal
movie marathon?
UV:
BROK PEETH TA-HUKE!! (Whoa,
now that's just wrong, dude.)
FE:
Oh alright. Hitting.
UV:
HARGH!(Hitting!)
FE:
But hargh her a good one in the
crotch, would ya?
UV:
HARGH!(Hitting!)
The
FE Turns to go.
UV:
KA-KURK MOOLYWOLY ZARTHGAK
DoooWEEEEEE RONCH, CHARLES DARWIN? (Forgive
my asking Shadow Over All Light, but why have you taken the
appearance of Charles Darwin?)
The
FE glances down at itself: Oh
this get up? Thought I'd pop into Florida and scare some
Creationists. Now be off with you.
The
UV bows and leaves with the two Bringers in step right behind. The
one of the left fails to notice an an abyss and plummets out of
sight, silent as a falling leaf in autumn save for the occasional
-CRUNCH- as his body bounces off a rocky wall.
The
FV rubs its temples as if it has a headache and vanishes.
Fade
to Black.
Camera
on The Summers house. It is silent. There is no sound anywhere, the
curtains are drawn, the lights are out. The warmth of a family home
is absent here and there is but the mere husk of a home. The family
fuzzies that were born here in the passing years have been snuffed
out like a candle.
After
a few seconds an old, withered mailman comes toddering up the walk,
he's mumbling.
Mailman:
Neither rain, not hail nor icy
wind shall keep-
He's
jumped by a vague night beastie which starts to devour him.
Camera
zooms in as the front door slams open spilling golden light across
the yard, razor edged illumination in the darkness. Down the front
steps plunges Willow, her eyes brimming with tears, tugging on a
jacket.
Willow(Will):
How could I have done such a
terrible thing as to kick Buffy out? I'm such a terrible, no good
very bad person. Manipulated Tara's mind, killed her killers, tried
to destroy the world-
She
steps over the feebly struggling mailman who's now squealing like a
lil' piggie as the beastie sinks sharp fangs into a particularly
sensitive area.
Will:
Not even stopping to help that
old man who's squealing like a lil'piggie. I'm such a terrible,
little Jewish Girl. Oh God, I mean Goddess! I'm not even a good Jew
anymore! I let my dradle get all dusty! Bad hacker! I'm not even a
good hacker! I bought Windows Vista! I'm such a terrible, terrible
person. I'm racked by guilt I tell you. Racked! RACKED!
Rack(Stepping
into camera): Hey. Did you know
you smell like Strawberries?
Willow,
without pausing, zaps him.
Will:
Hush you, you're dead.
Rack,
grabs his head and begins to scream: Oh
God no! You've downloaded every single Celine Dion song into my
brain!! Rack then reaches down his own throat and pulls
himself inside out.
Rack(Gurgling):
Peace at last! I'm free!(Dies)
Will(Hurryin
down the sidewalk): I killed
Rack! Again! Sort of. I'm so bad, evil, terrible and guilty. Kicking
Buffy out, sleeping with Kennedy, hurting Tara, manipulating powers
not mine to dabble with. Terrible, evil, I am, guilty! Talking like
Yoda, I'm so darn guilty. Racked with guilty just so very racked and
racked with real honest to goodness guilt! Kissed Xander and he lost
Cordelia, tortured Giles, gave Angel back his soul just as Buffy was
about to kill him. I'm really un-nice and...and....bad like with a
double dose triple frosted order of wrong squared!
Willow
freezes!
Will:
I have to find Buffy! There's
an inner secret that I think it's time I shared with her though I do
not currently know it myself. It will come just in the nick of time
and save us both. That or we can have a little pity party together
and twist the world into a pretzel shape of undeserved misery,
depression and completely uncharacteristic self-torture. Yay. I have
a plan.
Willow
resumes her brisk pace. Fade to black.
Commercial
Break.