Disclaimer: Don't own or claim rights to Buffy or Monty Python
A/N: You know you need meds when you come up with this.~~~~~
Xander returned to consciousness, and blinked. Well, he tried to blink, but his eyes seemed to be … glued open? He tried a wink, but that didn't work, either. His eyes were stuck open, and there was nothing he could do about it. And, now that he thought about it, the swaying surely should have been doing something to his stomach, except that he wasn't quite sure he had one. And why his … jail cell should be swaying was utterly mystifying. Let alone that he was behind bars. And stiff as the proverbial.
Ah, there. The swaying had stopped. He was still in jail, but at least the jail wasn't moving. It was, however, apparently, on a counter. And he was looking at … a waistcoat? Oh, and hey! Talking! Someone was talking! Actually, that sounded like yelling. Like something he should actually be paying attention to. Especially when something rather like a giant's elbow just slammed against his … jail … cell?
“There, he moved,” the owner of the giant elbow proclaimed.
“No, he didn't,” argued the Mover-and-Shaker-of-Xanders. “That was you hitting the cage.”
And point to the non-nausea-making MaSoX. May have to rethink that acronym.
Point promptly lost by evil MaSoX's assault and battery, accompanied by shouting, “'Ello, polly. Testing, testing, testing, testing. This is your nine o'clock alarm call.”
Really, Xander didn't frown. He was dead, not deaf. And that sentence really shouldn't make sense. And, ow! Xander plus counter does not make for fun! Neither does Xander plus floor.
“Now that's what I call a dead parrot,” proclaims the evil MaSoX.
“No, no,” negates voice-from-above. “He's stunned.”
“Stunned?” MaSoX screeches.
Blah, blah, Norwegian Blue, blah, blah, prolonged squawk. Pining for the fjords?
“Pining for the fjords?” Wow. MaSoX must be listening to the same conversation he was. 'Cause, like, he was standing right there. Without the counter-induced headache, too, he assumed. And, my God these people can go on. Do I go on like that?
“... And I discovered the only reason that it had been sitting on its perch in the first place was that it had been nailed there,” MaSoX declared.
Nailed? He suddenly realised (he thought) that he could feel a slight breeze through his feet.
MaSoX talking again, (again!) “'"Voom? Mate, this bird wouldn't 'voom' if you put four million volts through it! 'E's bleedin' demised!”
Pet shop owner person came straight back. “No, no. 'E's pining.”
“'E's not pinin'!” MaSoX the Argumentative, er, argued. “'E's passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased to be! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be pushing up the daisies! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off the twig! 'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!! THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!”
Dear God in Heaven. He realised where he was. And if he was here … ~~~~~
Willow the Ghost raced down the street, looking for her best friend, never noticing the light blue parrot flying as if Death, himself, were chasing it. Which he was. Fortunately, however, he never caught up. When Xander next saw Giles, though, he had a certain militant glint to his eye, and proclaimed loud and clear that that was the last time he would indulge in British 'culture'.~~~~~
A/N: Text for The Dead Parrot Sketch, by Monty Python, from http://www.mtholyoke.edu/~ebarnes/python/dead-parrot.htm