Sunnydale High School Drama Presents
by Ben Church
b_church@yahoo.com
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I don't own Buffy and Co. or Little Shop of Horrors. Joss owns Buffy,
I've no idea about Little Shop. I just know it ain't me. The majority
of the people in this story are real. They are drawn from my own, and
my sister's theater experiences. For more insight into the world of
my sister's high school theater, check out the static Journal:
www.oocities.com/SoHo/Gallery/3169
Part 1: Auditions
Buffy slammed her head down on the table in the library. Hard.
"Ow." she complained.
"Well," Giles said. "Yes, ow is correct. May I assume there's
a reason besides insanity for why you did that?"
"Snyder."
"Ah. Yes I see. Anything specific, or just him in general."
"Remember the talent show last year?"
Giles shuddered. Of course he remembered, he'd nearly had his
brain removed. "What about it?"
"Well, Snyder decided that we need to integrate even more.
He's making me, Willow and Xander participate in the spring Musical."
"Oh dear." Giles said. Secretly, he was elated that he'd not
been forced to direct it. Of course, since the plays already had a
director, it would not have made much sense to do so.
"Why couldn't Mr. Dean have dealt with the talent show as
well?" Giles thought bitterly.
"Out of the question." Dean said firmly. "It doesn't work that
way."
"Are you questioning my authority?" Snyder snarled.
Dean merely smiled. "Don't think you can intimidate me
Snyder." he said, towering over the Principal. "You try and fire me
for this, and the papers hear about your little coverup operation, as
well as your attempts to change the grades of the Swim Team.
"Now if you want those kids to audition, then fine, make them.
But unless they're good enough, they will not get in."
Snyder fumed. He knew the man was right, he had too much on
the coverup. "All right," he compromised. "If they don't get in, they
can do crew right? Unless they have to audition for that as well?"
Dean smiled. "I'll find work for them. I'm glad we were able
to come to this argreement" he said.
Willow walked towards the auditorium, feeling very conspicuous.
This was not her turf, she usually hung out in the courtyard during
lunch, but this was something she had to do.
She didn't want to audition for the musical, but Snyder had
spoken. Well if she had to do it, she was damned if she would look
stupid doing it. That was why she was going where Slayerettes feared
to tread. She'd asked Oz, as he was sort of in with the theater and
band crowd, who to go to for help preparing for the audition. She had
a week. He hadn't hesitated.
"Joe's the one to see." he'd told her. The president of the
Drama Club, star of every single show for all four years at the school.
This musical would be his last show.
She'd heard much about him to support Oz's opinion. He played
three instruments, but no one could agree on which ones. She knew he
played the bagpipes.
Oz had told her as much. The funeral for Theresa had been held
held in Colorado the day after the whole Werewolf incident was over.
Oz had gone away for two days to attend. He told her that Joe and
Micky had played a duet. Joe on the bagpipes, Micky on the
Pennywhistle. Willow wondered what Theresa's family had made of the
disapearance of her body, after Xander had staked her after the
viewing.
The other things she'd heard about Joe were almost like Folk
Stories. He was an expert at stage combat, knew every Shakespear
speech by heart, had a voice like a God, and was the best actor ever.
Then there was THE LOOK. He turned The Look on anyone who annoyed him. It was
said to intimidate even the heartiest of football players. She believed it. She'd found
herself on the wrong end of said Look during the talent show. At her comment that acting
did not require an actuall talent. She hoped he forgot that.
Someone had even joked that he was nine feet tall. She
sighed. He probably had an ego to match the stories.
In the hall outside the auditorium, she took a deep breath and
grabbed the handle of the nearest door.
Only to have it open on her as Micky burst out, with a
Krameresque flair. He had signs tucked under his arm.
"Oh my god!" she gasped, startled.
Micky stopped short, equally surprised. Micky was a junior,
and the vice president of the Drama Club. He and Joe often played
their instruments together for pay at formal occasions, they called
themselves The Celts.
Their parents had come over to America on the same boat, they'd
become friends, and both families had settled in Sunnydale. Micky's
parents were rumored to be members of the IRA on the run.
"Sorry," Micky apologized. "Willow right?"
"Yeah," Willow said, catching her breath. "That's me. Um-"
"Hey Mick!" someone called from down the hall. Willow turned,
and saw Amy coming down the hall.
"Excuse me for a minute." Micky said to Willow. "What's up
Amy?"
"I was wondering if you'd had any luck." she told him.
"No," Micky said sadly. "I haven't found any spells that will
locate Martin. But keep in mind, my library is kinda limited."
"Damn." Amy cursed. "Thanks anyway."
Willow listened interestedly. She knew Amy was a Witch, but
she hadn't known that Micky was one too. She looked closely, and
noticed a pendant hanging around his neck. A five pointed star in a
circle. She gasped.
Without looking at Willow, Micky said; "It's only Satanic if
it's point down." Apparently he'd gotten that reaction often.
Amy left, thinking. "Maybe Mr. Giles has something."
"So anyway," Micky said. "Did you want something?"
"Uh," Willow said, still thrown off. Her momentum had been
destroyed by this interuption. "Is Joe in there?"
"Yep," he told her. "Now, I gotta go hang these audition
posters. See ya."
Willow entered the auditorium quickly, before she could change
her mind. It was empty. From what she understood, usually it was
packed with theater people.
The strains of some Garth Brooks song echoed through the room.
Following the sound, she found Joe backstage playing piano. That
solved the mystery of one more instrument.
"Excuse me," she started.
Letting out a shriek that sounded an awfull lot like Grandpa
Simpson, Joe fell from the piano bench.
"Gaah!" he said, still imitating the cartoon charector. "Don't
sneak up on an old man!" Then he looked up, grinning. "What can I
do for you Willow `Acting doesn't require an actual talent` Rosenburg?"
"Oh god," Willow thought.
He must have guessed what she was thinking. "Relax." he said.
"I don't hold a grudge. Most of the time. Besides, I'd say your
experiance at the talent show taught you your lesson."
"Oh," Willow blushed. "Please don't remind me about that."
"We'll see. Now what brings you to my domain?"
Willow couldn't help smiling. He had that effect on people.
"Well, I guess you know that Auditions are in a week-"
"They are?" he gasped in a panicked voice. She figured out
that he was kidding. "Wait a minute, let me guess. Snyder's making
you, Buffy and Xander audition, and you want my help to prepare."
"How'd you know?"
"Well, Mr. D told me about Snyder. The rest was just deductive
reasoning."
"Oh, well, will you help?"
"Eeeeeehhhhhhh...okay."
"My life is hell." Xander griped. He sat with Cordelia in her
car at lookout point.
"Oh for the love of God." Cordelia groaned. "Why is it every
time I get you alone, all you want to do is complain?" She sighed.
Might as well get it out of the way. "What's wrong this time."
"Snyder's making me audition for the musical."
"Oh my God." Cordelia sympathized. "That sucks. I mean, after
the fiasco you made out of the talent show..."
"Oh, so you don't think I could get in?"
"Well, no."
"And I suppose you could."
"Duh." Cordelia snorted. "Look at me. The good looking ones
always get the parts."
Xander smiled inwardly. "How much?"
"Excuse me?"
"How much will you bet that you get in and I don't?"
"Oh jeez. I don't-"
"All right, forget money. If I get in and you don't, you have
to do crew, and not complain once about getting dirty."
Cordelia paused. Crew? Dirty? Did she have ratty enough
clothes that she wouldn't mind wearing? "And if I get in and you
don't?"
"Hmmm," Xander said. "I've got to do crew anyway if I don't
get in. Why don't you suggest something."
"You have to let me give you a make-over."
"What?"
Cordy grinned evily. "Not cross dressing you toad. I mean a
guy make-over."
Xander blanced. "You mean," he choked. "I have to be...
Cool?!"
"Hey this was your bet." she defended. "Unless of course, you
don't think you'll win."
"You're on." the boy insisted.
"Good. Are we done talking then?"
Smiling, Xander scooted closer. "Yeah, I think so."
If it wasn't so funny, he'd have been offended. He was used to
ridicule, wierd looks, even avoidence, but these people were actually
jumping back in shock, as if he were on fire or something. It was
quite amusing.
He was almost relishing his first meeting with the Principal.
Buffy turned from her locker, wondering what could be causing
the stir around the corner. Then she saw it. It turned the corner
purposefully, grinning. Almost showing off it's fangs.
With one quick move she knocked the creature off it's feet, a
stake in her hand. The weapon was halfway through it's arc, when
several facts penetrated her reflexes.
One; it was daylight. Two, although the thing did have fangs,
it's face was not demonic. Three, the pale face and black lips and
eyes were completely the product of make up.
"Oh, my god," Buffy thought. "I almost killed a Goth."
"What the fuck is your problem?!" Armand shouted. He struggled
to his feet, as the girl backed up hurriedly.
"I'm sorry," she apologized frantically. "I'm sorry I uh,"
Armand noticed the stake in her hand, and panicked look on her
face. "You thought I was a Vampire?!" he said incredulously. "Jeez,
and people think I have problems."
Now knowing that she it hadn't been predjucice, but survival
reflexes that prompted the attack, Armand automatically forgave her.
"You need proffesional help." he said. Then he snickered as he walked
away. "Never thought I'd hear myself say that.
The day of auditions had arrived. There was a sense of tension
all day, those auditioning were as jumpy as Buffy on a bad night.
Each had their songs stuck in their head, some had, had them stuck
in their heads for the entire week preceding the auditions. These
people knew that the auditions must release the songs, or they would
go insane. Or sane, depending on who you talked to.
Willow, Xander, Cordelia, Buffy and Oz all sat in the lounge,
each trying to exude an image of calm. Oz, who was more practiced, and
was not auditioning, did fairly well. The others did not.
"What was that?" Buffy jumped up. "Was that the bell?"
"No." Oz said. "That was someone with their nose in a script
bumping into one of the metal columns adorning the cafeteria."
Sure enough, they saw a young man, one of those preparing to
audition, picked him up off the floor. He looked around a bit,
checking to see if anyone had seen him. Realizing that everyone had,
he sighed and continued on his way. Paying much more attention to his
surroundings this time.
Xander sighed. The day was only half over.
Finally, the last bell rang. The Scoobie Gang walked towards
the auditiorium with trepidation. As well as being nervouse about
auditioning, there was another thing bothering them.
"Do we half to go in there?" Cordelia asked again. "I mean,
I hear these theater people are, well, wierd."
"Cordelia," Xander comforted her. "We've dealt with Vampires,
Werewolves, Witches, Poltergeits, Demons, Invisible People, and
Immortals. Nothing can be wierder than that."
They entered the Auditorium.
Some were sitting, some weren't. There was a girl reading The
Biography of Ayn Rand, she had a Beanie Baby on her head. In front of
her sat a girl writing feverishly in a green notebook, every now and
then she'd look up from her book, look at someone, giggle, and
begin writing again. Two people were having a conversation using only
the word Spoon.
"Excuse me," an echoey voice said. Cordelia screamed, there
was a man wearing a Horse mask next to her. "EQUUS boy, have you seen
Equus BOY?"
She shrank away. Oz merely grinned and dropped a can of
beef stew into a box by the door. "Canned food drive." he explained to
Willow.
A fairly normal looking boy walked by with another fairly
normal looking boy. The first looked at the box.
"CUP O' NOODLE!" he shouted in delight, and dove for the box.
The second boy grabbed him, holding him back. "NO! No Brian
that's for the poor!"
"But...it's cup o' noodle!"
Xander looked apologetically at Cordy. "Well I've been wrong
before."
Oz left the group to set up. He was helping provide
accompanyment for those who needed it.
The others headed for some empty seats. The camraderie
exhibited by the theater people, though unusual was quite apparent.
"Great," Buffy said. "I feel like an intruder."
"I keep expecting the Warners to run by with Ralph chasing
them." Willow smiled. No sooner had the words left her mouth than
two boys, and a girl hopped by saying; "Boingy, boingy, boingy!"
Behind them came another boy, with a butterfly net.
Willow stood shocked for a moment, then sank into her seat with
a slightly frightened whimper.
"Don't worry," Oz assured her, returning from the pit.
"They're exceedingly wierd, but they're harmless."
"So long as you don't cross us." muttered the Beanie Baby girl.
Behind them, a young man wearing all black and a black trench
coat, slunk in. His long blond hair contrasted with his outfit, but
what most called attention to him, was his efforts not to be noticed.
He snuck down the aisle towards them, peering suspicously
around him, as if he was being watched. Reaching them, he motioned for
them to lean close.
Thinking he had some important information on some dire
supernatural threat, Buffy and the others did so. Oz merely smiled.
"Psst," the boy said. "There's something in the water here."
he whispered. "It makes everyone normal." He looked around
suspiciously again. "Shhhh, they're watching." He then hurried off,
continuing with his covert act.
Buffy sighed and patted Willow on the shoulder, comforting her.
In the pit, Joe seemed to be challenging another boy, this one
also had long blond hair, but his was curly. Joe would think up a
song at random and the boy would try to play it. Then the other boy
would do the same to Joe.
The boy who'd restrained Brian from attacking the canned food
box was having a contest as well. His seemed to be who could most
convincingly run into a wall. His opponent was a black haired boy
wearing glasses.
Finally, when it appeared that all who were going to arrive,
had arrived, Mr. Dean himself entered. He surveyed the crowd with a
grin on his face. They were wierd, they were hyper, and they were
all damn fine performers. He was actually looking foward to seeing
what the newbies could do.
"Mr. Assistant Director!" he called.
Joe popped his head up from the pit. "Yo!"
"Let's get started shall we?"
"Sir Yes Sir!"
Joe picked up two microphones, and switched them on. He loved
having to get everyone's attention. He held the microphones together.
The reactions to the feedback were pretty much the same, some
were just more dramatic than the others.
"Now that I have your attention," Mr. Dean said. "We'll get
started. Here's how it's going to work. You'll audition in
alphabetical order by your last name. You go up, sing your bit, and
sit down. I want absolute silence while someone is auditioning. If
you need to talk, do it in the lobby." He glanced at his list.
Michael Abersheim
Andrea Abrams
Talon Beeson
Andy Bredeson
Kathleen Burke
Stefan Berteau
Cordelia Chase
Ben Church
Isabel Church
Brian Connor
Lisa Datovich
Aaron Derby
Kevin Good
Alexander Harris
John Fitz Harris
Micky Keeler
Steve Luber
Marty Lynch
Joe MacLeod
Vince Maffeo
Steve Mossberg
Dustin Mote
Dan O'Brian
Kamau Ramadan
Sam Richardson
Willow Rosenburg
Miriam Schwedt
Matt Siegal
Armand Smith
Chris Smith
Rick Smith
Buffy Summers
Nicole Travers
Eric Verfourth
Ziggy
The first boy looked more like a football player than an actor.
He was huge. Despite that, he had an amazingly soft singing voice.
In fact, it was so soft, no one could hear him.
The ones after him had better voices, and looked more normal.
Andrea was petite with thick black hair. Talon was of average height
with flame red hair and glasses. Andy was of average height with
short black hair. Kathleen was of average height as well, but her
long red hair, and pretty, freckled face made her stand out. Then came
Stefan, an average looking blonde boy. He began to sing Rainbow
Connection. At Willow's shudder, Xander and Buffy looked at each
other.
"Frog fear." they said simultaneously.
Soon, it was Cordelia's turn. Much too soon for her taste.
She'd sat and listened, and secretly despaired. She was hot, she knew,
but she also knew that she wasn't the greatest singer in the world.
She'd first planned to sing the song she'd sung for the talent show,
but decided against it. Instead she chose Maddona's Frozen.
The people sitting in the audience cringed. Several had to be
restrained by their fellows from leaping onstage and stopping her,
violently in some cases. Maddona was a favorite of some of these
people. Fortunately for all, Mr. Dean didn't make them suffer through
it long. Cordelia was released quickly. She sat down with a sigh of
relief.
"I've got this bet in the bag." Xander thought.
After Ben, the Kami-Kazi boy, who sang a decent rendition of
Muddy Water from Big River, came Izzy, the girl with Frizzy light brown
hair and the green notebook, which she guarded carefully. She sang a
Tori Amos song. Brian, the Cup-O-Noodle boy came next with Yesterday
by the Beatles.
Then came Lisa, a medium sized brunette, Aaron, who was not little, not blond,
and some had argued that he was not even a boy. (no I will not explain that inside joke to
you now. You'll just have to e-mail me and ask. So there.) Kevin was next, a tall brown
haired boy.
"Next," Mr. Dean said. "Alexander Harris!"
"Um," Xander said, standing. "It's Xander Harris actually."
"Alrighty," Mr. Dean conceded, making a note. "Let's see
what you've got."
"Alright," Cordelia muttered to Buffy. "Five bucks says he
sings either Happy Birthday, or a John Denver song."
"You're on." Buffy smiled. "I say he sings Twinkle Twinkle
Little Star."
"Hey," Micky said, leaning back. "Can I get in on this? I say
Row Row Row Your Boat."
None of them won. Xander had thought long and hard about his
song, and determined to sing something that would definately show
up Cordelia.
Buffy's jaw dropped when Xander began to sing one of Ciaphas'
songs from Jesus Christ Superstar.
"He's a bass." Joe noted. "Hmmmm...."
Xander sat back down when he was done, feeling very satisfied
with himself. He figured he'd done pretty good.
Willow had a good long wait before she had to go. She realized
that what had started out as Auditions, had seemingly transformed into
a performance. John Fitz Harris, who went by Fitz, was cheered on when
he sang. Willow could easily understand why, the tall boy had an
incredible voice. He also seemed slightly inebriated.
Micky came next with a song from Rent. Glory she thought it
was.
Next was the other Kami-Kazi boy, Steve Luber. He sang Sodomy
from Hair. He counted the number of people he offended, and smiled.
After Steve came Marty Lynch, and then Joe. When the boy
started singing, every girl either swooned, or began cheering. The
song was If It's Only Love from Metropolis.
Oz, having seen the phenomenon before, was prepared. Xander
however was quite startled when Cordelia slumped against his shoulder,
sighing.
Vince Maffeo _was_ a football player. But seemed to fit in
so well, with his friendly manner, and sillyness.
Steve Mossberg was next. He also played piano, he'd been the
boy competing with Joe at the piano. He forewent the accompanyment,
choosing instead to accompany himself. He sang Imagine by John Lennon.
Dustin Mote came next, he too had the everyman look. Then came
Dan O'Brian. The posterboy for decaf. He was the skinniest boy
Willow had ever seen. Oz must have noticed her staring at the boy.
"You should see his T-Rex imitation."
Then was Kamau Ramadan. His dark skin and dreadlocks made him
look like a Rasta man from the Islands. If it weren't for his glasses
anyway. It took a bit for him to get started, he needed Oz's
accompanyment. He ended up singing a rousing rendition of The Phantom
of the Opera. Willow was assured by Nicole that yes, he was aware that
he was singing the female part.
Then came Sam, a british boy. His accent suited the H.M.S. Pinafore song he sang.
Finally, It was Willow's turn. She recieved encouraging looks
from her friends, but her heart was pounding in her chest never the
less. She took a deep breath, and met Joe onstage.
"Okay Willow," Joe said. "Just like we rehearsed, okay? You
ready?"
"No." Willow said truthfully.
Joe smiled. "Just remember, close your eyes, and pretend there
isn't anyone else here. I know you can do it, I've heard you. Take
a bit to collect yourself, and then point to me when you're ready.
Don't worry about tempo, I'll follow you."
The nervouse girl closed her eyes and thought back to the
rehersals. He was right, she could do this. She turned to Joe and
nodded. As the music began, she found it easier to relax.
Xander was floored. He'd never heard Willow sing. He wasn't
so much surprised that she could, but that she was doing so with
several people watching. And she was phenomenal.
The last verse of Memory, from Cats faded. Willow sighed.
She was done.
The girl after Willow was Miriam Schwedt. She was a slender,
tanned girl who sang I Don't Know How To Love him.
Then came Matt Siegal, a tall jewish boy with glasses. He sang
Hava Nagila.
Then came, the Goth Boy. Buffy hung her head in embaressment.
She still couldn't believe she'd thought he was a Vampire. Looking at
him again, she decided it wasn't so hard to believe after all.
"Okay," Mr. Dean said. "Armand Smith."
Rick and Chris Smith, brothers, looked at the rest of the
group. "No relation." they insisted.
"Could I get Oz up here to accompany me?" Armand asked.
"No problem." Oz said, setting up his guitar. If he was
disturbed by the appearance of the boy, he didn't let on. It was
always hard to tell what he was thinking.
Armand whispered the song he wanted to sing to Oz. Oz nodded,
and allowed himself a grin. Most people recognized the song right off.
The Virgins were quickly separated from the rest when the ones
who knew the song immediately burst into cheers.
"I'm just a sweet Transvestite," Armand sang. "From
transexual, Transilvania!"
There were more winces when Chris Smith sang. But not nearly
as many as when Cordelia had. He was a skinny boy with a narrow head.
His brother Rick, who went next was basically a bigger version of
Chris, with more facial hair.
Then, all too soon, it was time for Buffy to audition.
"Okay," Buffy thought. "I can do this. I've fought Vampires,
robots, and demons. Singing in front of an audience? No problem."
So fortified against embaressment, she took the stage. She
didn't notice Joe's grin when she told him the song, nor did she hear
the gasp from the audience when the music started.
But when the first verse of My Heart Will Go On left her mouth,
there was no way she could have missed what happened.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" The Beanie Baby Girl, Nicole
Travers leapt from her seat and ran out of the auditorium.
"Don't worry about her," Joe assured her. "Just keep going."
But despite his reassureances, Buffy's momentum was screwed
beyond repair. She fled the stage as quickly as possible.
"Nicole!" Mr. Dean said. "You're next!"
"Alrighty!" she called. Apparenlty she'd stopped just outside
the door. Buffy hid her face in her hands. It had been a joke. Then
again, who knew how insane these people were. Maybe it had been
sincere. "I'll never underestimate the wierdness of real life again."
she promised herself.
Nicole was a petite brunette with powerfull lungs. As was
evidenced by her singing voice, and the fact that she played oboe.
There were only two people left. Eric Verfourth, the tall
scary guy with blond hair, the one who'd warned them about the water.
And Ziggy.
When Eric left the stage, Ziggy took it. He was of average
height, with an everyman look. Ziggy wasn't his real name. But not
many knew what his real name was. Even his parents had to start
referring to him as Ziggy when they called for him.
Izzy leaned over and whispered. "I just think you should know,
he's got a crush on all three of you."
Buffy, Cordy and Willow shrugged. They just wanted to get out
of here and kill something.
To be continued... (
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