Title: A Stupid Story
Author: Trixie Skittles
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: It has no real plot. It is stupid.
Riley sat down in the chair. THE chair. Yes, he did. Uh huh... And then he laughed maniacally. For a long period of time. "I wish I had some more pizza," he thought out loud. He shrugged. "Ah well..." He tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling. It seemed to be made of jellyfish, but Riley didn't find that to be very strange. Not today!
"Not with my MYSTERIOUS, EVIL PLAN!" he exclaimed, and began laughing insanely again. He then scratched his head, confused. "Wait... I don't got no plan, yet..." He was very troubled by this, and decided that he needed to come up with one, 'cause they were so much fun, goddammit!
"HA HA HA!" laughed Faith, running into the room, "Riley, you so craaaaaazy!"
Riley looked offended. Faith just smirked and shook her head. "Beefstick... damn, I mean, you really gotta work on that... non-plan of yours, if you're gonna be all... evil, ya know?" She shook her finger at him. "You're a very silly boy." She reached out and pulled his Nixon mask off. "Were you gonna rob a bank, or something?"
Riley pointed at her and giggled girlishly. "Noooooo, you!" he shouted, and fell down on the floor in a fit of laughter, tears streaming from his eyes.
Faith chuckled. "Silly rabbit, Trix are for kids!" She then paused, and looked very confused. "No wait... that's not what I was going to say..." But it was no use... she couldn't remember, no matter how hard she tried. Never. Never, ever again.
Riley suddenly jumped back up to his feet. "Heeeeeeyyyyy, waitta gosh darn minute! You should be in jail right now! That's what Buffy said, she did! She said you were in jail!"
Faith shrugged. "I don't gotta be there now. I'm wherever the author says I am. So're you, in fact."
Riley looked up at the author, who was somewhere near the jellyfish ceiling. "S'that true?" he asked, sadly, his eyes watering up (but this time, not from laughing).
"Hell, yeah!" yelled the author. "But no more talking to me, G.I. Joe! Ya got it?"
"Uh... okay..." he whimpered.
Faith's eyes flashed with anger. She glared at the author. "Hey! How come YOU don't have to talk to him, but I DO!?!"
"Oh... sorry, Faith. I love you and all, but... damn... I don't really have a good excuse of any kind, do I?" the author asked. "Well... will it make you happy if I just... kill him, or something, and then have you wander off and do some other shit?"
Faith looked pleased. "Yeah, sounds good," she replied.
"Hey, waitta gosh darn minute!" Riley exclaimed... again. "I don't wanna die! Don't kill me!"
The author shrugged. "Sorry, dude. It's just the way it's gotta go..." She snapped her fingers, and Riley spontaneously combusted.
"That was wicked awesome!" shouted Faith, and she walked outside of the building (which was actually a post office), to find something else to do.
Eventually, she came upon a river. She to the right and to the left, but she could not see any safe way to cross. "I suppose I shall have to wade through it, then." So she grabbed the hem of her dress in two hands, and pulled it up to her knees. She slowly put one foot into the water, and then the other, and began to cross.
Faith looked up at the author (who was now sitting in the branches of a nearby tree), and asked, "Hold on... what is going on? You must be mad! Why is there a river running through Sunnydale, why am I wearing a dress, and why on EARTH am I talking like this!?!"
"Oh yeah, sorry," said the author, and snapped her fingers once more. Faith appeared back outside of the post office. And she was wearing leather again.
"That's better, you freak!" she laughed, and began... again... to walk away.
She walked for a couple of blocks, until she ran into a stop sign. Then she rubbed her nose, cursing loudly, and continued on her way.
She walked for another couple of blocks, until she tripped and fell into a manhole. It hurt a little bit, but she was a Slayer, so she was all, "Hey, it's cool." But there were some vampires down there, so she staked them before returning to where she had previously been walking before she had fallen down there in the first place. "What a silly place to put a manhole!" she exclaimed, as she continued walking. And it was - for it was in the middle of a Dairy Queen.
"Wait..." mumbled Faith, scratching her head, "why the hell was I in a Dairy Queen?" She looked up at the author, who was now floating around in the sky.
The author shrugged, "Beats me. You were the one goin' in there."
Faith was about to argue that, since the author controlled everything that happened in the story, including where they were at all times and what for, she should know why Faith was there. But then she didn't, 'cause she knew they'd just end up fighting for a long time, and it would be pointless and boring. "Screw it..." she said.
The author chuckled, pleased with herself for knowing what Faith was thinking about, because she was the author, and was writing all of this.
Faith turned around in a full circle, and then pointed at the author. "Uh... Author, can we get on with the story, please?"
The author ate a Jolly Rancher. "Oh yeah... Sure..." She snapped her fingers.
Faith walked down the sidewalk once again. She was getting tired of this. It was dumb. The author was bored and sleepy, so she decided to change this entire paragraph with the computer thesaurus. The changed version is below.
Faith staggered along the path once again. She was getting exhausted of this. It was foolish. The dramatist was jaded in addition to lethargic, subsequently she decided to revolutionize this complete snippet by means of the central processing unit phrase book. The altered rendering is underneath.
AND NOW THE NONSENSE ONE WHERE THE AUTHOR JUST PICKS RANDOM WORDS/PHRASES TO REPLACE THE OTHERS WITH.
Devotion tread out of order that will live forever footway once upon a time for a second time. Sharp-witted come to pass in receipt of stale odds-on chance third-rate. Issue forth be situated dull sound. That you can imagine origin subsist irk moreover lively, hence shatterproof unambiguous on the road to loose change thongs intact subsection in the midst of theatrical mask pad terms. Theatre of war fuzzy style be there larger than.
"I'll kill you," warned Faith, "if you don't stop!"
The author whimpered like a Riley. "Sorry, man..." "Yeah, well you'd better be!" she snapped. They both just stood/floated there for a moment until Faith cleared her throat. "I'm waiting..."
"Oh yeah, sorry," apologized the author. She snapped for the fiftieth time, and things went 'POOF.'
Faith was now in the Bronze, wearing a grass skirt, a pastel pink wool sweater, a beanie, and a pair of yellow galoshes. She was somewhat horrified by this, but she liked the beanie, so she didn't complain.
She looked around for anyone she recognized, and found them very quickly. Everyone she had ever met or heard of was standing on the stage. There were many people up there, and some of them were falling off.
"Ouch!" exclaimed Buffy, as she fell on her head. "Ouch!" she exclaimed again, as Elvis fell on top of her. He stood up and brushed himself off, apologizing.
Faith giggled. "This be entertaining," she announced. Suddenly, it was very quiet, and everyone was looking at her. She began to grow nervous, but then...(dramatic pause)...they all clapped. She bowed. "Thank you, thank you very much!" she said. This saddened Elvis, so he left.
Faith noticed someone trying to get through the big crowd of people on the stage. Finally, that person succeeded, and it was a Giles-like person. 'Probably Giles,' she thought, astounded by her logic.
"AHHH!" screamed the Giles-like person. "It has been far too long since someone last cursed!"
"Well, shit," said Faith, "that's too bad."
The Giles-like person looked relieved. "Oh my... thank you."
"No problem-o, Captain!" She saluted.
"Giles isn't a captain!" laughed Oprah.
Faith looked back and forth between the two of them strangely. "He isn't?"
The both shook their heads, saying things like, "No," and "Nope," and "No, sir."
"Well, damn!" she shouted. She was shocked by this news, and almost had a heart attack, but then... she didn't. She suddenly realized that her wool sweater was pink. "Eeewww!" she shrieked, because Faith did not wear pink. Or light colors. Except for white sometimes. Or something. She glared at the author (who was on the NON-JELLYFISH ceiling).
The author caught this, and replied before she even had time to say anything. "Okay, okay, I'll change it! Jeez..." She snapped. It changed. Now Faith was wearing a black tee shirt. It was better.
"Yeah, and... while you're at it...?" Faith added. "Could you maybe change my skirt into some pants? I just feel so... like I'm wearing a skirt, ya know?"
"Oh, all right," the author sighed, "but that's it!"
"Okay, that's fine," agreed Faith, "'cause I like the rest."
SNAP! Faith's grass skirt transformed into a pair of pants. But she was still wearing the yellow galoshes and the beanie, of course. What were you thinking, you fool?
"I should really go to bed," the author told everyone.
"Aww!" they all whined in unison. "But then we'll stop existing! And we'll be sad, and cry!"
"I don't care!" the author growled, and they all cowered in the corner. All of them. Cowered in one corner. Well, except for Faith. She knew the author well enough by now that she wasn't afraid.
"Shut up!" she yelled at the author.
"Well, okay!" the author yelled back. "I'll just shut up and stop writing, and then I'll go to sleep!"
"Well, damn... That didn't work." Faith shook her head.
"Sorry, kids," the author apologized. "I've just really gotta go. I have to actually get up tomorrow morning, so... ya know..."
People were very sad, but told the author that they understood. Probably just to humor her.
"END!" shouted Faith. So it did.