The hallway outside looked as if it had been caught in the vise of a military occupation. At least twelve of Rory Vitali's black-leathered crewmen were strung up and down the way, busily adjusting a variety of expensive-looking equipment. The scruffy special effects crew stood out in this crowd like fat pigeons amid a flock of crows, but they seemed unaware of their potentially precarious positions.
Special effects supervisor Russell was arguing loudly and belligerently with Jeff, the vampiric stunt coordinator. Giles broke away from Lena to edge closer, trying to get at the gist of the argument. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to like it, whatever it was about.
"Who the fuck is the expert around here anyways?" Russell was saying.
"I got to watch out for my guys," Jeff insisted. "Good stuntmen are hard to break in. Who rammed a firecracker up your ass tonight anyway? Last night you were screaming at us for using the wrong size squibs."
"Giles, Giles!" Xander grabbed his arm and dragged him around. "You should see what they're setting up by the student lounge! It's a BIG --"
"Giles!" Cordelia grabbed his other arm and waved a sheaf of papers in his face. "We've got lines! Nobody said anything about lines! How am I going to memorize this in five minutes?"
"Let me see that." Giles yanked the script from her hand to page through it. "'Billows of smoke'?!"
"Crap yes!" Rory Vitali paused in his frenetic passage from one end of the hall to the other. "It's going to play like the Battle of the Bulge. We need to get the fucking fire alarms off line before we start. Jeff, where's the A.D.?"
"Wilson?" the stunt coordinator growled. "He's down by the vans."
"I'm going back there to put a nail in that slacker's rear end. I want everybody in place and ready to roll when I get back. FIVE MINUTES!" Rory bellowed to the hall at large.
"What are you bastards going to set on fire?" Giles made a grab at Rory's neck, but an arm latched around his chest and dragged him back. Rory ignored him and continued his hustle out towards the back of the building.
"Nothing, darling, things are under control. Please try to go with the flow here," Lena admonished him. "You're trying to interfere with a force of nature."
"Giles!" Willow had appeared next to Xander, looking immensely pleased with herself. "Did you know that if you soak a piece of paper in a mixture of white phosphorus and bisulphate of carbon and then blow on it you can make it go up in flame?"
"White phosphorus?" the special effects supervisor said, alerted finally to their presence at his back, "What are those pissypants pansies doing now?" He stormed away towards the student lounge.
Giles started to go after the man.
"Now now," Lena admonished him, dragging down on his shoulder. "I'll go and make sure the boys don't get overly enthusiastic. Remember me: The Tender Tyrant? You and Cordelia stay by the library and go over your lines. Oh Debi dear!" She beckoned the secretary over. "Fill in for me here for a moment, will you, and make sure these children go over their lines?"
"I get to be director?" Debi said happily. "Neat!"
Lena shot her a dubious look. "Please, no, sweetling. Just feed them their cues. I'll be right back."
Giles grabbed Xander and Willow by the arms and pointed them down the hall after her. "Keep an eye on what she's doing."
"Hey!" Xander protested. "You're not the --"
Giles planted a foot on the teen's ass and gave him some encouragement.
Xander yelped and took off running, Willow close on his heels. "No need to get pushy, Giles," he yelled back over his shoulder.
"Ooh," Debi was saying as she leafed through one of the scripts that Lena had handed her. "I haven't directed anything since my fourth grade's production of 'Little Red Riding Hood'. This is great!" She flipped a script each to Giles and Cordelia. "'Man and woman rush from the library doors out into the hallway.' That's here. 'Billows of smoke . . . yadda yadda . . . grenade explosion . . . machine-gun toting men . . . sparks flying down from the ceiling like waterfalls . . .' Boy they've got everything in here. Oh, here we go. Lines. 'Rat-ta-tata-tat!' That's the gunmen firing a hail of bullets at our couple. They miss! They must be the bad guys."
"Will you get on with it?" Giles craned his neck to see what was up with a sudden burst of activity at the other end of the hallway. Lena stepped into the center of it, and the frenzied activity stilled as she spoke to the crew with a look of lofty forbearance.
"Don't get your boxers in a twist," Debi said. "Jeez. Guess the first line's yours, Ms. Chase."
"Ms. Chase. That sounds so professional," Cordelia said thoughtfully. "I don't mean to sound critical or anything, Giles, but what the hell are you doing in my scene?"
Giles reluctantly forced his attention back to the matter at hand. "Rory Vitali filmed us together for a scene over a year ago. You do remember, or have you successfully and blessedly repressed that night?"
"Oh. Yeah. But -- I thought you ruined that scene when you sort of caused all those cars that were chasing us to crash and burn. I mean Mr. Vitali was screaming and cursing at you when he finally pulled up."
"Apparently he does that when he's especially pleased with a shot," Giles sighed.
"Cordelia." Debi stamped her foot. "Your line? Ms. Wertheimer said you guys are supposed to rehearse!"
"Don't you have some stumbling to do?" Giles said to her.
"No, she's right!" Cordelia frantically paged through the script. "Uhm . . . 'It's a day of the dead. Frederick. We will never find. Each other I . . . uh . . . fear! Put your hot -- wow -- arms around me tightly!" She grabbed Giles in a stranglehold and got up on tiptoe to read the script over his shoulder. "'Oh I must have died last night tear my heart from my living flesh and take it to your chest I then shall always beat with you.'" She snuffled. "Ohmygod, this is so good."
"You're smearing my makeup," Giles choked.
"Euww, did it get in my hair?" Cordelia broke loose and ran her hands over her head. "How was that, Debi?"
"Really good," Debi said. "Except that isn't your scene. We're on page three."
"Oh." Cordelia rattled through the script. "'Woman'? I don't even have a name?"
"Hey," Debi said with a reassuring smile, "even Marilyn Monroe started as 'woman'."
"Right. Okay." Cordelia took a deep breath. "'Woman screams! The bee eaters have broken in!'"
"I think you're supposed to scream there."
"What? Where?"
"Where it says 'woman screams'. You scream. Instead of saying it, I mean." Debi peered myopically at the script. "Who the heck are the bee eaters?"
"And why would I ever be scared of people with such ridiculous dietary habits?" Cordelia said in disgust. "Okay, this is not good. I don't know my motivation here at all. How can I possibly scream convincingly?"
"Cordelia," Giles said. "You're a very practised screamer. Just do it."
"Sure you can say that," Cordelia said. "You're so in the middle of that stuff all the time. Have you ever given a really blood-curdling scream anyway? Huh? Not so easy as it looks, Mr. Wise Guy. You try it -- scream at me!"
Giles glared at her, then drew a deep breath.
"ONE FUCKING MINUTE!" Rory Vitali screamed as he stormed back up the hallway. "Everybody get into your places NOW!" He yanked the scripts away from Giles and Cordelia and tore them in half. "The script is changing. Get the fucking scriptwriter up here for a one minute rewrite!"
"Hey!" Cordelia protested as he blew on past. "That was my only line!"
"It's okay," Debi said with a silly smile. "You get to do smoochies later on. I saw it in the script."
"Smoochies?" Cordelia preened. "Really? Who've they got me doing smoochies with? Leonardo DiCaprio? Antonio Banderas? Joseph Fiennes?"
"Just wait!" Debi gushed. "It'll be great! Better than 'The Titanic'!"
"It's certainly a bloody disaster in the making," Giles growled. He started down the hall after Rory Vitali.
"Hey wait, what about rehearsing?" Debi grabbed his arm. "You can help me practice my stumbling!"
"Very well." Giles swept her feet out from under her, tumbling her to her rump against one of the lockers. "Very graceful, my dear."
Debi blinked up at him. "Uh, thanks!"
He loped down the hall, only to run straight into Rory Vitali and a short, pale, raven-haired woman who was apparently the scriptwriter -- at least she had a batch of them under one arm.
"I spent all day working on that stupid scene," she was yelling at the director. "It's got some of my best writing!"
"Yeah, well wrap it around a cow turd and lob it over to the fucking Pulitzer Prize committee," Rory growled. He lunged over to block Giles' way. "Where do you think you're going?"
"I'm going to check on what those special effects pillocks are --"
"You sure as fucking hell are not," Rory said. "Shooting starts in 30 seconds."
Giles attempted to side-step him, but Rory reached out with one ape-long arm and snagged him by the back of the head. "The crap I have to put up with." He ducked and tossed the Watcher over one shoulder, then turned to bellow down the hall. "Jeff! tell the third A.D. to get the extras in place and send the knife-wielding psycho down here. Fucking NOW, you mental defects."
The hallway exploded into activity. Giles grappled for some purchase from which to resist the indignity of being carried like a potato sack down the hall, but the director's long black leather jacket offered no such convenience. In any case, they were soon enough back down the library.
"Boy, you just aren't getting anywhere tonight, are you?" Cordelia said disgustedly as Rory dumped Giles on his feet next to her.
Giles pulled a small cross from his pocket and hit Rory hard in the side of the throat with it.
"Fuck, not now!" Rory wheezed, clutching at his throat as he back-pedaled furiously away. "Save it for the psycho, you asshole!"
Giles looked determinedly around him for a suitable wooden object.
Rory sprinted away. "CLAPPER!" he screamed, "We're starting this shot NOW, you dust wads!"
One of Rory's crew dashed into Giles' path, snapped a clapboard in front of his nose, and darted away again. Light instantly flooded across the hallway. Giles faltered, momentarily dazzled.
"Oh! Oh!" Cordelia said in a startled voice from behind him. "Lines! Uh, 'eee! The bee eaters have broken in!'" She grabbed Giles' arm.
A hoard of actors, dressed in yellow-and-black camouflage and gas masks and toting machine-guns, flash- flooded up the hall. One of them aimed his gun at Giles and Cordelia.
A brain-shattering series of explosions and flashes of light ran a line down the row of lockers on their left. Overhead something shattered and rained brittle bits down on top of them. Cordelia gave a blood-curdling scream and threw her arms around Giles. He staggered and snatched at her shoulders to steady himself. Something exploded with a sharp bang on their right and Cordelia recoiled into him, taking them both down in a heap. Billows of yellow smoke rolled over them.
"Fucking students start fleeing now!" Rory bellowed from beyond the veil of smoke.
"Shit!" Giles grabbed Cordelia and pulled her back against the lockers, out of the way of the stampeding extras. Willow and Xander raced wildly past, obviously caught up in the fun of the terrorist attack.
A figure, also in the yellow-and-black camouflage but much larger than the other 'terrorists', loomed up out of the smoky hoard. Instead of a machine gun, he flashed an immense knife.
"Oh!" Debi said from just behind Giles. She skittered forward and threw out her arms in a gesture protective of the fleeing students, her bosom heaving passionately. Giles stared dazedly at her.
The 'knife-wielding psycho' raised his weapon over his head and lunged for her. Debi turned and started to run, gave a pretty little trip, and fell to her knees. "Ouch," Giles heard her say under her breath. Her assailant grabbed her and slashed at her with the knife.
"OUCH!" Debi yelped. She hit the psycho in the face with her fist and scrambled away. "What the hell!?" She grasped at her arm, which was beginning to bleed through the sliced fabric of her sweater. "That's a real knife?"
"Bloody bastard," Giles said. He shoved Cordelia to one side and lunged to his feet.
The 'psycho' backed away from him. "Sorry sorry!" he yelped. "I'm just using what props gave me!"
Giles knocked the knife out of the actor's hands and seized him by the throat.
"That was my favorite fuck-me sweater!" Debi said. "I'll never get back to New York to get another one!" She staggered to her feet and snatched the knife up from the floor.
"I said I was sorry!" the 'psycho' choked out. He hit Giles in the stomach and fought frenziedly clear of his grip.
"Not so fast, Mr. Bee!" Cordelia launched herself into the back of the fleeing man's legs, bringing him to his knees. "What do you mean going around ruining people's clothing, huh? What's next? My three hundred dollar Guccis?" She grabbed the back of the actor's head and pounded it against the floor.
"It's just a scene!" the actor screamed. "Psycho-bitch!"
"What did you call me?!"
He threw her to one side and staggered up into a run. "Somebody put this nutcase into a strait jacket!"
"NO NO, KEEP FILMING!" Rory was shrieking to his crew. "Fucking bee eaters, start fleeing now!"
Cordelia snagged onto Giles' pants leg and clawed her way up his body to her feet. "What the hell are you waiting for, Giles? Go smash his face in!"
Giles glared down the hallway at the cluster of crewmen and their still-wielded camera. "I'm not going to give them the --"
"Hey Ripper!" Rory waved at him from the forefront of his crew. "Can't you morons even read a fucking script? There's a great Learning to Read Program at the Learning Institute for Morons. I'll sign you up first thing tomorrow."
"That's it!" Giles yelled back at him. "Stake or no stake, you're going up in a bloody puff of smoke tonight, you pillock!"
Rory gave him the finger and ducked around behind his cameraman. The cameraman nervously kept filming.
Giles palmed a cross and began to stride down the hall towards them, Debi and Cordelia close on his heels. The cameraman, with Rory and the rest of the crew behind him, backed rapidly away. Giles broke into a run.
"Hold onto the shot!" Rory screamed, smacking his cameraman on the back of the head when the vampire tried to bolt. "Back, back back, back!"
One of the 'terrorists' had dropped his machine gun in the panic of retreat. Giles bent to scoop it up as he passed by. "Damn," he said. It was a real gun filled with blanks -- at least he assumed it had been filled with blanks, not a safe assumption with this lot. He'd been hoping for a wooden prop gun. Never mind. He'd find something to finish Rory off with. He let the gun clatter to the floor again.
Rory and crew had taken a filming stand out by the student lounge. Giles paused where the hallway opened out towards the student lounge. There was a potted tree where they emerged from hall into the front foyer. Giles yanked the tree from its pot and snatched the big knife from Debi to hack at the top of its trunk.
Rory's crew had been wreaking massive havoc in the lounge. A second camera crew was leaping to their equipment on Giles' left. The student lounge itself had been radically rearranged. Giles caught a glimpse of Lena standing to one side next to a hefty fellow who was nursing a big generator- like contraption. Another ugly piece of machinery had been set up opposite the lounge, to the left in the open cafeteria doors.
Giles strode out of the hallway and his foot shot out from under him. A slippery red substance had been washed over the floor here. "Watch out!" he yelled, as Debi and Cordelia, also skidding, grabbed onto him from either side, Debi almost managing to impale herself on the knife he was holding. He dropped the knife and grabbed the secretary around the waist to steady her.
"Euww -- ick!" Cordelia was saying as she crushed the breath from him on his right. "Don't you dare let me fall, Giles!"
"Get your hands off my stake then," he snarled back at her, trying to hang onto his make-shift weapon despite her grappling.
"Wait for it!" Rory yelled. "When they hit the mark!"
"What mark!? Giles, wait --" Cordelia said, hauling down on his arm as he stepped forward.
There was a gut-dropping thump, and a blast of air hit the three of them from the Big-Ugly machine. Cordelia screamed again as they uncontrollably skidded over towards the lounge.
The surface of the world shattered around them, and everything turned upside down and then smoky.