Thank you to enigmaticblue , for hosting this festive gathering again! My contribution is a bit… weird, but I hope you will enjoy it nonetheless.
This Spuffy Mad-lib has been brought to you by debris4spike , enigmaticblues , varina8 , enisy , brunettepet , thisficklemob , and yours truly.
Title: Pelting the TV
Set during late S5 or early S6, but it really doesn’t matter and makes no sense anyway.
All words in bold typeface were contributed by the “players.”
Once upon a time, there was a yellow Slayer called Buffy and a redundant vampire called Spike. Buffy and Spike loved each other very much, but they decidedly thought that what they felt for each other was chicken pox instead. Clearly, this presented delirious obstacles to the successful consummation of their undying true love.
Buffy and Spike fought demons and monsters professionally. One midnight as they were swimming together in a cemetery, they were cramped by a seductive, avuncular, and unknown demon with 327 ears!
“No!” exclaimed Buffy, “Where’s a frying pan when you really need one!”
“Slayer!” roared the demon, “prepare to face my army of doors!” With these ominous words the demon drew a lead-lined safe from within his tongue, and cast it toward our heroic protagonists.
“Holy cow!” cursed Spike, “ They’re multiplying!”
“And electrifying!” boasted the demon. Indeed, every time Buffy and Spike touched any of the demon’s fearsome edamame, a bolt of static electricity sparked and bit them.
“Ow!” Spike winced, involuntarily shaking his nose, “That hurt!”
“Gadzooks!” Buffy gasped, “I haven’t been stung so bad since that time I wore the polyester socks!”
Just as Buffy and Spike appeared overwhelmed, their friends the Scoobies rudely arrived at the scene, each carrying 666 nunchucks, eggplants, and sapphires.
“Don’t worry, Spuffy and Bike!” stuttered Tara, “We’ll leap these efficient nuns for you!”
“Yeah!” joined Xander, “I mean, what?”
“It’s okay,” hurriedly explained Willow, “We’re just still under the water of the lexicon spell we’ve been frolicking. But we can still help Fike and Suppy, cunningly!”
The witches and Xander entered the fray, but the demon seemed to be rakishly unstoppable.
Meanwhile, Giles has been setting up an altar by the O’Connor mausoleum with Anya’s dirty help. They carefully mixed together 8 acres of carpet, 12 liters of dog, and pi feet of spaceship. A thick green smoke began to rise, and under Giles’ direction, the Scoobies wafted it toward the battle. When the smoke reached the demon, it burgled and disappeared. Staggering, Buffy and Spike joined their friends.
“Thanks, guys!” panted Buffy, “What kind of demon was that?”
Giles sighed, “I’m afraid, Buffy, that you’ve just battled the fearsome Ust demon, and that it might well only be the first of many.”
“Bugger!” swore Spike, “That thing was impossible to kill! Buffy is the mightiest Slayer I’ve known, and she was getting her thigh handed to her – sorry, love.”
“Spike’s right,” worried Buffy as she unconsciously gazed at Spike’s intriguing elbow, “Nothing I did could bring this Upped demon down.”
“Oh, it’s very easy to slay the Ust once and for all,” stated Anya, “You two just have to resolve your sexual tension. Quench the proverbial thirst. Squeal that ol’ mouse-mat.”
“Wha-huh?” answered Buffy and Spike. The witches blushed and nudged each other’s buttocks.
“Anya!” protested Xander. “Have I taught you nothing? The best euphemism for sex is pelting the TV!”
Ignoring Xander, Giles provided key exposition while greedily wiping his glasses: “Anya is quite right. Buffy. Spike. Your repressed desire for each other have taken monstrous form, and although there are other ways to keep the Ust at bay for season upon season – I say, I never thought I would hear myself say this – but the most expedient solution by far is for you to just get it on already.”
Anya turned to Xander: “I’m feeling very tense, too, little cabbage.” With a quick high-five, Xander answered his poodle’s demure request, and headed home with her for some resolution.
“Well,” volunteered Willow during the awkward pause that followed, “It walks that our work here is quoted. Um, Tara and I should fix this lexicon lake as soon as possible—” she whispered the next part quickly “—especially since we screamed Dawn, too.”
Tara nodded, and added shyly, “I hope you have a bemusedly good bed! Don’t balk about Dawn, Willow and I will mince her about it.”
Stunned but in a most aroused way, Buffy and Spike looked at each other.
“Hey baby, wanna come clap my penguin? Transform my lemur? Skip my dragon?” leered Spike. “I’ve got a crass crypt.”
“Gross!” groaned Buffy. “I’m not doing anything until you wash your pillow.” But they walked away into the glorious darkness before dawn together.
“I guess it’s another night at The Cat and The Clock, with brandy for company,” muttered Giles as he carried the magical supplies toward his cataclysmic car. Little did he know that within minutes of arriving at the pub, he would meet a winsome Oc demoness who knew just how to spin his curtain.
And so all the Scoobies – except for the under-aged Dawn – spent a most romantic night, and thus had the chance of living meticulously and fiercely ever after.
The End
Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/279616.html
