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last
bus outta sunnydale
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Last Bus Outta Sunnydale by Liz Barr November 2001 crossover-parody: Voyager, BtVS, AtS, in-jokes, insanity rated: D for deranged. Also PG-13. Slashiness follows. notes: For Adam, who's jumping ship and deserting the world of fandom. characters: not mine. Theirs. And His. @: elizabeth_barr@yahoo.com.au
"All aboard!" "Is that our bus?" asked Buffy. "I guess," said Dawn. "'Fanfic's End Busways,'" read Willow. "This is it. These muses are outta here, all bitter and depleted-like." "Yeah, let's blow this popsicle stand," said Spike. "I could really go for a popsicle," said Xander. "Oh!" Anya said, "remember the time you filled a condom with water and stuck it in the freezer--" "Stop!" everyone else yelled. The bus driver lowered her sunglasses and glared at them. "Look, are you people getting onboard, or not?" The Scooby Gang (and various hangers-on, love interests, recurring characters and groupies) took one last look around the Hellmouth they'd loved so much, and then boarded the bus to the great big fandom in the sky. "I get a window seat!" Spike called. "What about the sunshiney-burning-uppie-thingie?" Willow asked. Angel leaned over, taking a moment to admire his reflection in the window. "Canon doesn't count in metafic." "Some of us never bothered with canon at all," said Kathryn Janeway. She waved a thermos. "Coffee?" "Mocha?" asked Willow. "You think I'd drink mocha?" "Well, I wasn't asking you to eat babies, you know." "Mmmm," crooned Drusilla, "babies, all sweet and powdery. Squeal like pigs when you rip their throats out." "Like little hors-d'oeurvres!" said Harmony. "Like, you know, sausages in buns. Not that I would *ever* eat them, 'cos, hello? Cholesterol much? But well, they're kind of like little babies, y'know?" "Miss Edith speaks out of turn," Drusilla murmured, and staked Harmony. "Hey!" called Cordelia, "could we *not* get vamp dust in my new leather jacket?" "Why did I ever leave you?" wondered Spike. "You didn't, sweetness," said Dru. "I left you, all alone, no one but the Slayer for company." "Oh. Right." "These brushes with reality," said the Host, "never much fun, are they? And speaking of reality -- *love* the hair. Encounter with a Clairol demon?" "L'Oreal." "Ah. A vamp with classic taste." "Actually, Spike," Buffy said, "I've been wondering how *do* you do your hair? I mean, with the whole no-reflection situation." "Oh, I've been doing it," said Dawn. "I'll overlook the fact that this is a *vampire*, not a Barbie doll but what did he do before you existed?" "I did it," said Angel, "back in Sunnydale, when Spike was in the wheelchair. I'd give him a dye job, and he'd give me a --" He broke off when he noticed the horrified stares of everyone around him. "What? I was evil! It doesn't count if you're evil!" "No," said Cordy slowly, "I really think it does." "There's a mental image I'm not happy to be seeing," said Gunn. Fred shrieked and scuttled up the back to write DS9 slash. "I think it's kind of sexy," said Anya. "I mean, two hot guys well, one hot guy, one gaunt and interesting guy, a lot of hair gel " "Anya," said Xander slowly. "Please stop." "But you said that *you* wouldn't mind--" "Anya!" "Numfar!" someone yelled, "do the dance of homoerotic subtext!" "Oh no," said the Host, as a plump little man did a funny dance through the aisle. "Oh no," said everyone else, as a naked Talaxian followed him. "Neelix," said Janeway, "what did I tell you about gratuitous nudity?" "To keep my clothes on, except in the interests of cheap laughs?" "And what did I tell you about *dancing* while naked?" "Oh. Sorry." Buffy threw herself into the seat next to Janeway. "So. How'd *you* end up on the bus to fandom hell?" "My show finished. Plus, the writers could never agree on what archetype I was supposed to represent, so I ended up being completely inconsistent." "Gee," said Xander, "I'm glad I never had that problem." "Uh, Xander " said Willow. "Yeah?" "Never mind." In the very last row, Joss When, Brannon Braga and God were playing poker. "Okay," said Joss, "I'll see your Beltran and raise you a Hannigan." "You're bluffing," said Brannon. "How do you know?" asked God. "How do you know he's not?" "Well I am omniscient," He said. "So is Joss bluffing?" "Man is not ready for that knowledge." "Fine," said Brannon, "I'll raise you a Blalock." "A Blalock?" said Joss, "bad enough that you wrote Mission Impossible 2, but you're trying to pass bad actors now?" "Okay, fine," said Brannon. "Jeri Ryan. And that's my best offer." "Uh, Brannon?" said God, "I hate to say this, but Jeri's one of mine, now." The others stared at him. Then Brannon said, "David E. Kelley is God?" "Yup. And God is David E. Kelley. And Jeri Ryan is mine." "That sucks," said Brannon. "Get thee behind me, Satan." "Numfar!" someone down the front yelled, "do the dance of fanfic's end!" "Goddamn oh, sorry. I'll be back." Joss moved down the front to do his dance. As soon as he was gone, Brannon and God both stole a peak at his cards. He was holding five aces.
END
Copyright © 2001 Elizabeth M. Barr
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