Rated t for teens for insanity and (later) violence. There may even be a bit of swearing.
Main characters: the Count, the Master. Presence of assorted minions and mention of other muppets.
Disclaimer: the Count and any other muppets mentioned belong to Henson Puppetry. The Master belongs to Joss Whedon & his writers.
Distribution – if you want it, let me know.
Notes: Post Muppet Show, pre BtVS s1.
A small figure moved through the sewers of Sunnydale, stubby fingers flicking at the side passages. “One tunnel to the left, two tunnels to the left, four tunnels to the right, three tunnels to the left…”
A green lined cloak trailed behind him, making a soft sound against the remarkably clean walkway in the sewer. Glancing to the left, the figure adjusted his monocle, “That’s two dead bodies, and one, two, three, four, five rats. Such an exciting town.”
“Who are you? Sunnydale is a controlled area,” a yellow eyed man hissed from a passage on the right.
“I don’t know you,” the short man muttered, his accent causing the taller form to blink. “Take me to your master now.”
“I thought that was ‘take me to your leader?’ That’s how it goes in all the movies,” the yellow eyed minion blinked then shrugged. “Whatever, he can kill you either way.”
The shorter figure followed down the passage, muttering softly, “fifteen manhole covers, sixteen manhole covers…”
The two finally emerged from the ordinary tunnel into a large cavern, with several rafters visible, some crumbling plaster on the walls, and broken pews along the left side. To the right, a large, scorched cross leaned at an angle. A pool of a dark, reddish fluid bubbled in the middle of the room, with a dark-clad man peering into it. Dozens of candles had been lit around the room, giving a faint illumination.
Edging away from the short stranger in the cloak, the minion said, “Master, there is a stranger here. I have brought him here to see you.”
The Master turned, his amber eyes gleaming in a pale face. Seeing the short visitor, his expression changed into a smile, and he held his arms wide, “Count! I haven’t seen you in decades. Not since we paid a little visit to that mathematician in Williamsburg. How have you been?”
“Vonderful,” the shorter figure grinned, stepping into the light of the candles. His purple skin had a different sheen than the paleness of the Master, and his teeth were larger, though there only seemed to be four of them. The monocle gleamed in the light, as if he held a flame before him. “I vanted to see you again, my friend. It has been one hundred twenty five years, six months, and sewen days. You have a wery nice town here. I counted sewenteen cemeteries on the way here.”
The Master frowned, moving towards his guest. “I have been trying to be a bit less excessive about object lessons this century. I don’t want another mathematician like that fellow.”
One purple hand waved, and the smaller vampire shrugged. “I have medications for that now. There shouldn’t be another situation like that as long as I take my pills. Thirty six little green pills for a twelve day visit.”
“Much better than three mathematicians in several hundred pieces,” the Master shook his head.
“One mathematician, in one hundred and sewen boxes. With a diagram of where they all went,” the Count corrected. “I let his assistant go.”
“True,” the Master agreed. “Put down your bag, we have time to catch up on. One of the minions will take your bag to a spare room for you to make yourself comfortable.”
The pair of vampires moved to one of the pews, and began to discuss the past one hundred twenty five years, six months and seven days.
End part 1.