David was gracious enough to postpone his Thursday night Dungeons & Dragons session so that I could enjoy a quiet dinner at his palatial home in the Hollywood Hills. Apologizing that his mad service had the week off, we made our way through piles of pizza boxes and old issues of Nintendo Power to a patio boasting a beautiful view of the City of Angels. In all honesty, I also expected more than Spaghetti-O's and Mr. Pibb for dinner, but it was still an enjoyable evening.

Buffy the Magazine: Thanks so much for inviting me over, Mr. Nabbit. It's a treat.
David Nabbit: A treat? Wow. That's the nicest thing a woman's ever said about being invited into my home.

BTM: Oh, I can't imagine that's true.
DN: No, it pretty much is. I get a lot of "Where's your silverware drawer?" Once in a while, an "I take payment upfront for the first hour." Can we forget I said that last one?

BTM: Modest and funny. I'm sure you're a regular stud.
DN: Not really. Women mostly…would you like some more Mr. Pibb?

[At this point, David unceremoniously dumps a pitcher of soda into my lap.]

DN: Oh, gosh, I'm really sorry. Let me get that.

[The next thing I know, the nozzle of a Wet-Dry Vac is heading toward my crotch, slurping up the beverage.]

BTM: Um…that's not really necessary.
DN: I'm…I'm sorry. I'm just nervous. Really nervous.

BTM: Right. So your resume lists "titan of industry" and "cutting-edge programming genius." Now you're adding "demon hunter" as well?
DN: Yeah. I've been helping out Angel and the gang on a lot of their cases.

BTM: Really?
DN: No. Not really. I mostly show up. Sometimes.

BTM: You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. Attendance is a big part of battling evil.
DN: Oh, it absolutely is! I don't mean to downplay my role. When they need bags of money or computers, or even fresh bagels, I'm glad to help out. They do great work.

BTM: I understand you've personally benefited from some of that "great work." Care to discuss it?
DN: N-n-n-not especially. Where did you hear that?

BTM: Some of my research…

[Suddenly, David starts to spit water from his nose. I make sure not to bring up his recent "indiscretion" again.]

BTM: Any truth to the rumor that Cordelia Chase might be growing into more than just a demon-fighting colleague?
DN: Cordelia? Maybe. Who knows? Only Gindak knows the future.

BTM: Uh…who's Gindak?
DN: He's this demonspawn in the fourth edition of Forgotten Realms, and you travel seven days through the Sallow Foothills to reach him, and if you present him with the proper offering, he predicts your future.

BTM: David…
DN: When we played it last week, my Dungeon Master tried to trick me into offering my Bog of Holding, but I needed to offer up the Vandal's Candle.

BTM: David…
DN: The Vandal's Candle was under the Bed of Sleeping, in the Silent Ogre's fortress, and I had to take apart my armor to squeeze under the door…

BTM: DAVID!
DN: Huh? Oh. Sorry. I tend to get carried away.

BTM: What do you get out of role-playing games? Wouldn't you rather be having fun in the real world?
DN: The "real world"? What's that?

BTM: Well, you know…reality.
DN: I'm not following you.

BTM: Right. Do you have any exciting new plans for the future of Nabbit Enterprises?
DN: We're working on some new technologies. The usual--flying cars, self-flushing toilets. Oh, and we hope to have our home replicator system out by next Christmas.

BTM: Replicator?
DN [laughing]: No, not really. I'm only kidding, of course.

BTM: I don't get it.
DN: Oh, you know. The replicator! Like on Star Trek?

BTM: I've never watched it.
DN: Well, then. Now who's lost touch with reality?