Disclaimer: I own nothing. All Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters and creations by Goodby Silverstein & Partners are the property of their original owners.
Their battle brought to an abrupt halt, the Scooby Gang and every one of the vampire’s minions stood frozen, all gaping at what had happened to Spike, who just a moment ago had been urging his forces to kill those soddin’ pests. In the very next instant, all of the demons promptly fled the vicinity. Nobody wanted THAT to be done to them.
The subdued heroes then gathered around what remained of one of their fiercest foes, with Giles clearing his throat, and polishing his glasses at a record-setting pace. “I’m required to submit a report of our activities to the Council. Can someone possibly come up with a story possessing a modicum of believability about tonight’s events?”
Everyone’s head turned to where Willow stood there blushing in her smudged skirt and rubbing her banged elbow from her fall. The neophyte witch muttered uncertainly, “Uh, we could say I was trying out a transformation spell and I was diverted by an attacking demon--”
“You tripped over his leg after Buffy decapitated him!” snarked Xander.
Glaring at her friend, Willow finished, “--and I changed Spike into the first thing that came to mind.”
Gazing off into the distance after replacing his glasses, Giles mused, “Yeeeesssss…. I think I can bury that under several thousand words of bumf so that nobody asks what you changed him into, and why….” The Englishman’s voice trailed off expectantly at the last word, as they all waited.
Determinedly studying the tips of her shoes, Willow mumbled, “Today’s paper didn’t come, so during breakfast all I had to read was the back of the cereal box and anything else--”
An impatient Buffy interrupted the redhead, “Yeah, Wils, I got it. Okay, we need a volunteer to pick him up.”
As one, Buffy, Willow, and Giles then nonchalantly took a single step backwards.
An unnoticing Xander stood there, still staring at the truly absurd, until he was distracted by Buffy’s cheerful, “Atta boy, Xan! Okay, after you’ve gotten him, bring him with you when we go back to my house.”
“WHAT?!” yelped Xander. Glowering at all of his supposed friends, the Sunnydale native spluttered at Buffy, “Why the hell do you want him?”
The Slayer’s grin was predatory, showing all her sharp teeth. “Because Miss Kitty Fantastico is going to be a very happy cat tonight.”
A slow smile of pure evil now spread over Xander’s features, as that teenager stepped over to where a small glass bottle rested on the floor, its clear sides covered with condensation, but still showing it was filled right to the brim with a creamy white liquid.
The bottle of milk looked as if it would go great with a fresh-baked batch of chocolate chip cookies.
Stopping in front of the container, a bemused Xander shook his head, marveling at how the bottle cap was the exact shade of pale yellow matching the color of the now-deceased Spike’s hair.
Bending down to collect it, Xander straightened up with the bottle in his grip, and inspiration burst into his mind, making the boy realize he now had the chance to utter an absolutely classic groaner.
Looking at Giles, Willow, and Buffy, and brandishing at them a milk bottle that had formerly been Spike the vampire, Xander delivered in a perfect deadpan just two words:
Author’s Note: Regarding the summary, I’d guess the results of an alcohol-consuming Willow having done the spell would have created….Absolut Spike.
Yes, I’m a very bad boy.