Episode 13 of the alternate season 3: "The Calm Before"
Surround by armed police officers, Sunnydale's mayor survey's The Bronze.
"My word - such destruction. How many people died? Gosh this is gloomy."
"Five confirmed casualties," Professor Walsh responds, "the statistical date of the number of people who die, or just go missing in this town is perplexing. IF one were given permission, one could lock down this town and..."
"No, I will not put all my constituents on time-out just because of a few bad apples. Already your nightly patrols have got my skin all bumpy."
"We're attracting national attention like never before. Mister Wilkins, this isn't something that you can just sweep under the carpet forever ... the carpet is bleeding."
And I had such plans. You know, this is just depressing. Tell your men The Initiative has my blessing," he snaps his fingers for the officers and the Deputy Mayor to come.
Johnathan, Warren and Andrew sit at a lunch table at UC Sunnydale.
"Seriously, I walked in there and there was all this blood and dead people. It made my shoe's sticky and I thought I was going to throw up," says Andrew.
"You are such a pussy," Warren responds, "you know you would have fainted way before that."
"I am not a pussy. Death stuff just creeps me out is all. I didn't see you're macho ass in there."
"Yeah, well, some of us have priorities. A University isn't like a college. God, you're so fresh the lemony scent is gagging everyone," comments Warren.
"You are such a wuss. Sit there and be all high and mighty. You're like He-Man when he's not He-Man," says Johnathan.
"Isn't his name Prince Aramen or something?" asks Andrew.
"I think so ... they haven't shown it in syndication for quite a while," replies Johnathan.
"I heard they might do a new one and..."
"Warren cuts then off, "Ladies - please. Let's try to act like grown men here. Do you two have to wear your training bras all the time?"
They quiet down and fiddle with their utensils in their food.
"Besides, his name was Prince Adam."
"Well, I'm brave. I could have done it," says Johnathan.
"Could not," says Andrew.
"Could to," he rebukes.
"I bet I could cast a spell and kill one," says Andrew.
"You're nowhere near my level. I'm Merlin and you're like - Harry Potter," replies Johnathan.
"I'll play with the big boys gentlemen. I'm the Q."
"We could band together. Form some sort of group. Like the Justice League. Team Power," says Andrew.
Johnathan looks at him funny, "That name sucks."
Warren motions with a finger, "For once L'Oreal, the little guy has a point. How about The Trio?"
"That sounds sort of Heroy like," says Johnathan.
"Yeah..." a mesmerized Andrew says.
"Then it's settled - we're super heroes," says Warren.
They go back to eating their lunches.
Andrew speaks up, "I'll trade my Vitamin D milk for your Skim."
Giles sits quietly in his den. The lowly lit lamplight reflected in his glasses wavers when he turns the page.
Oz walked in and sat down in a chair next to him.
"Couldn't sleep. I got this pesky feeling something might try to sneak in and kill me."
Giles continues to read. Oz looks at him.
"So how does one become a Watcher? Is there is sign-up sheet at school, or are you drafted?"
Giles puts down the book with a bit of force and seems perturbed.
"Sorry if I bothered you..." says Oz.
"No, it's all right. I don't wish to any longer think of what I was thinking about. I was twelve. One day I came home from Boarding School, in England, and there was this man, in a suit. It was brown and musky and he was quite a bore really. When they could finally get me seated and informed me I'd no longer be attending my studies I nearly jumped for joy."
"You were a bit rowdy back then?" asks Oz.
"Quite boisterous, bombastic and naive. I was a foppish chap, spoiling for a rumble and cooking things up real good. I puffed fags like there was no tomorrow. It's a wonder I can breath at all."
"Hey, what ever your personal life wants..."
"Cigarettes. Fag is a British expression for smokes. Dear lord, you didn't think I meant I was..."
"All ready forgotten. Trust me," replies Oz.
"Hum. I co-trained one potential Slayer. She was killed by a drunk driver about a month before The Slayer was killed by an especially evil vampire known as William The Bloody. They had sprawled a few times and he had been stocking her. I tried to warn her Watcher ... but sometimes people just don't listen to you."
"There's so much we didn't know about you. You almost feel like a stranger at times."
"I apologize. It was not my intention to deceive you; it was my sworn oath."
"We're not going to win this one are we?"
"No, it appears not. If we don't get a Slayer and soon, we will be out numbered and overrun. The Master has been gaining his legions and forming ranks and organizing. He's building toward an assault. First Sunnydale, then Oakville and possibly all of California," he removes his glasses and looks off to the side.
"What can we possibly do? If it's all so hopeless, then what?" asks Oz.
"Nothing. We can't do anything."
Surround by armed police officers, Sunnydale's mayor survey's The Bronze.
"My word - such destruction. How many people died? Gosh this is gloomy."
"Five confirmed casualties," Professor Walsh responds, "the statistical date of the number of people who die, or just go missing in this town is perplexing. IF one were given permission, one could lock down this town and..."
"No, I will not put all my constituents on time-out just because of a few bad apples. Already your nightly patrols have got my skin all bumpy."
"We're attracting national attention like never before. Mister Wilkins, this isn't something that you can just sweep under the carpet forever ... the carpet is bleeding."
And I had such plans. You know, this is just depressing. Tell your men The Initiative has my blessing," he snaps his fingers for the officers and the Deputy Mayor to come.
Johnathan, Warren and Andrew sit at a lunch table at UC Sunnydale.
"Seriously, I walked in there and there was all this blood and dead people. It made my shoe's sticky and I thought I was going to throw up," says Andrew.
"You are such a pussy," Warren responds, "you know you would have fainted way before that."
"I am not a pussy. Death stuff just creeps me out is all. I didn't see you're macho ass in there."
"Yeah, well, some of us have priorities. A University isn't like a college. God, you're so fresh the lemony scent is gagging everyone," comments Warren.
"You are such a wuss. Sit there and be all high and mighty. You're like He-Man when he's not He-Man," says Johnathan.
"Isn't his name Prince Aramen or something?" asks Andrew.
"I think so ... they haven't shown it in syndication for quite a while," replies Johnathan.
"I heard they might do a new one and..."
"Warren cuts then off, "Ladies - please. Let's try to act like grown men here. Do you two have to wear your training bras all the time?"
They quiet down and fiddle with their utensils in their food.
"Besides, his name was Prince Adam."
"Well, I'm brave. I could have done it," says Johnathan.
"Could not," says Andrew.
"Could to," he rebukes.
"I bet I could cast a spell and kill one," says Andrew.
"You're nowhere near my level. I'm Merlin and you're like - Harry Potter," replies Johnathan.
"I'll play with the big boys gentlemen. I'm the Q."
"We could band together. Form some sort of group. Like the Justice League. Team Power," says Andrew.
Johnathan looks at him funny, "That name sucks."
Warren motions with a finger, "For once L'Oreal, the little guy has a point. How about The Trio?"
"That sounds sort of Heroy like," says Johnathan.
"Yeah..." a mesmerized Andrew says.
"Then it's settled - we're super heroes," says Warren.
They go back to eating their lunches.
Andrew speaks up, "I'll trade my Vitamin D milk for your Skim."
Giles sits quietly in his den. The lowly lit lamplight reflected in his glasses wavers when he turns the page.
Oz walked in and sat down in a chair next to him.
"Couldn't sleep. I got this pesky feeling something might try to sneak in and kill me."
Giles continues to read. Oz looks at him.
"So how does one become a Watcher? Is there is sign-up sheet at school, or are you drafted?"
Giles puts down the book with a bit of force and seems perturbed.
"Sorry if I bothered you..." says Oz.
"No, it's all right. I don't wish to any longer think of what I was thinking about. I was twelve. One day I came home from Boarding School, in England, and there was this man, in a suit. It was brown and musky and he was quite a bore really. When they could finally get me seated and informed me I'd no longer be attending my studies I nearly jumped for joy."
"You were a bit rowdy back then?" asks Oz.
"Quite boisterous, bombastic and naive. I was a foppish chap, spoiling for a rumble and cooking things up real good. I puffed fags like there was no tomorrow. It's a wonder I can breath at all."
"Hey, what ever your personal life wants..."
"Cigarettes. Fag is a British expression for smokes. Dear lord, you didn't think I meant I was..."
"All ready forgotten. Trust me," replies Oz.
"Hum. I co-trained one potential Slayer. She was killed by a drunk driver about a month before The Slayer was killed by an especially evil vampire known as William The Bloody. They had sprawled a few times and he had been stocking her. I tried to warn her Watcher ... but sometimes people just don't listen to you."
"There's so much we didn't know about you. You almost feel like a stranger at times."
"I apologize. It was not my intention to deceive you; it was my sworn oath."
"We're not going to win this one are we?"
"No, it appears not. If we don't get a Slayer and soon, we will be out numbered and overrun. The Master has been gaining his legions and forming ranks and organizing. He's building toward an assault. First Sunnydale, then Oakville and possibly all of California," he removes his glasses and looks off to the side.
"What can we possibly do? If it's all so hopeless, then what?" asks Oz.
"Nothing. We can't do anything."