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Aftermath of a Night as a Puppet

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This story is No. 2 in the series "Looking Forward". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: With its huge number of wedding chapels, getting drunk in Vegas is never a good idea. Especially when you're Angel and you're half your normal size.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > Muppets, The(Current Donor)ShieldageFR721,2930152,37028 Aug 063 Dec 06Yes


BtVs created by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, Muppets by Jim Henson Productions.
Yet another 'Woke up in Vegas' pairing.
Thank you, Bobboky, for the diet bit :D

"Worse yet, we're married," I said, holding up the certificate.

"No, no, I do not believe this! This is all your fault!" Mrs. Piggy-Angel yelled, grabbing the paper from my hand. She read it through and groaned. "Hmph. You should have told me you were human."

I took a second to look her over. Considering my recent diet, she smelled vaguely of food.

"Listen, I was drinking to forget. Not that I was human, that I was a puppet. It was just a spell cast to save my life."

"Well, you don't have to go around breaking a woman's heart... Please at least tell me that we didn't get married by an Elvis impersonator. That would just be so... tacky."

"No, I can safely say that we weren't," I answered truthfully as I looked through the Polaroids of the space-themed chapel.

In those photos, I saw something which truly made me angry. My demon fought to surface. I checked myself, managed to keep my face in control, but my eyes had probably turned yellow.

"I can't believe this!" I yelled, nearly tearing the hateful image in half.

"What is it?" she asked, hurriedly pulling her clothes over her short and well-built body.

She was well-proportioned for her height. The night before when I'd been drunk and about her height she'd had a much greater impact on me.

"Well, I'm not a scifi fan-boy and lady," I said as I waved the picture around. "You don't look the type."

"Well, I did use to act in a show called 'Pigs in Space'" she said huffily, annoyed at having lost track of the conversation.

"Whatever," I snapped at her, then I caught myself. I'd been taking my anger out on her and... "I'm sorry, but I trusted him, I..."

I handed her the pictures and continued to explain as I pulled on my clothes. "Even drunk, I wouldn't pick that place. The black-haired man right there? The one with his back to the camera? That's Xander Harris. He was supposed to keep an eye out for me, so I wouldn't have to go through this alone... I trusted him, and not only does he let me get married in Vegas, he picks out the chapel!"

After a few more hurried words, I threw open the door that connected my suite to Xander's, only to see the one-eyed man himself standing there, about to knock.

Before he or l could speak a word, Mrs Piggy-Angel had launched herself forward.

She executed an incredible high kick - "HI-YA!" - which landed firmly in Xander's crotch.

He sank limply to the floor. If he still had both eyes, they'd have crossed.

Before my wife, the puppet-pig, could begin to gloat, she was suddenly tackled by an invisible force.

Of course, I leaped to her rescue.

Everybody began to roll around the floor in a wild tussle of arms and legs

... Some of them invisible.

Eventually, the panting Xander was able to gasp out a command to stop.

Well, the 'fight' ended abruptly.

"Hey, I know what you're thinking," Xander stated. "But I was at least as drunk as you. I'm sorry. I've got to introduce my new wife."

"Don't tell me you married a storm demon?"

"No... Marci Ross."

"The invisible girl who tried to kill, well, everybody?"

"Yeah, but the government gave her some training, she's not that bad now..."

Concentrating, I could just barely make out the glint of a ring on an invisible finger.

I sized up Xander's new wife and my own.

You know what? I thought to myself. I'm better off.

When she had enough energy to talk, my wife let out a breathless squeal: "Well, Angel-honey, aren't you going to introduce me?"

After 'proper' introductions were made, the new Mrs. Piggy-Angel turned to where she thought Marci *must* have been standing and asked: "One question... Who does your hair?"

This was going to be a long day.

The End

You have reached the end of "Aftermath of a Night as a Puppet". This story is complete.

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