Friday Fanfic

Buffy the Dragon Slayer

(A revised version of a story that I originally wrote for a R-rated fanfic site. Unfortunately, like most such stories that I've written, it tended to go beyond the parameters of the site into some unexpected territory so I thought I should revise it and post it here. I hope you all enjoy it.

Chapter One

In every generation there is a Chosen One. She alone will stand against the dragons, the basilisks, and the other creatures of darkness. She is the Slayer.
--Sir Roderick of Giles

Well, personally, I kinda want to slay the dragon. Let's go to work.
--Damon, He of the Daemonic Countenance

Ooh, shiny!
--Buffy Summerfield

"I have to go fight another fire-breathing dragon again?" asked Elizabeth "Buffy" Summerfield.

"Well, the delegation the villagers sent to our Watchers Council did feel that the matter was quite urgent," said Sir Roderick of Giles. "And you are the chosen one, Elizabeth."

"I told you before," said Buffy. "The name's Buffy, not Elizabeth. And frankly, I don't care if I was chosen. I didn't sign up for this. And if you think this matter is so urgent, then you go fight the dragon."

"I would if I could," said Sir Roderick, "but unfortunately, the Good Lord has not seen fit to bless me with the same abilities that you have. Besides, the ancient prophecies say that only a young maiden dressed in the garb of Eve may defeat the beast that breathes fire. And although more than a few young men on the Council have tried to defy that prophecy, all of them who tried have died horrible deaths."

"So go find yourself another young maiden," said Buffy. "Preferably one with a death wish."

"It does not work that way, Buffy," said Sir Roderick. "Suicide is a mortal sin. And anyway, the prophecies make it quite clear in other sections that the maiden has to be a chosen one, picked specifically by the Good Lord to fight dragons and other creatures of darkness. At least that's how the local monks translated it and they wouldn't lie to us."

"You trust monks to be objective about a prophecy involving naked women?" asked Buffy. "Now that's a laugh."

"Well, if you don't go fight this dragon, innocent people are going to die," said Sir Roderick. "At the very least, it will burn down the village and then move on. Maybe to this village. And then no one here will be safe. Not even your younger sister Dusk."

"Okay, okay," said Buffy. "I'll go fight your dragon. But I won't be happy about it. Just tell me you're bringing a female assistant along this time to help me put on that special lotion on my hard-to-reach areas. It gets too creepy when you or your dogsbody Wesley do it."

"As a matter of fact, I am bringing along a female assistant," said Sir Roderick. "Sort of a watcher's apprentice, you might say. In fact, here she comes now."

Just then a shy young red-haired girl with Jewish facial features entered the room.

"Buffy Summerfield," said Sir Roderick, "meet my latest Watcher-in-training, Laurel Rosenberg."

To be continued...

Cuento de Mi Id

“Dialogue at a Ball”

Camilla: You, sir, should put on your mask.

Stranger: Indeed?

Cassilda: Indeed it's time. We all have put on masks but you.

Stranger: I have no mask.

Camilla: (Terrified, aside to Cassilda.) No mask? No mask!