"Okaaaayyyy, Mins, says here B's plane landed ten minutes ago at JFK, so 8:37 p.m.'s when the bet got goin'."
"I know, I watched it come in."
"What? Ya plan to meet her at the airport?"
"Nah, just decided to start early in making the Head Bitch lose her shit. You can put it down on the game sheet that I'm doing my first move right now."
"'Bout that, ya still sure you want me to be the ref? Me and B, we got history. Yeah, the rest a' the house's fine with it, but she ain't gonna be alla that happy when she finds out what's goin' on and that I'm the one declarin' the winner."
"Hey, I trust you to be fair, Faith."
"Thanks, kid."
"No prob. All right, the luggage's being delivered here for sorting. I'll be out of touch for a while."
"Luggage? What're yer up to- Nope, never mind. Lemme just say, Mins, plantin' drugs in her suitcase might be a little too much."
"Oh, I wouldn't do something like that."
"Yeah, suuuuure."
"C'mon, there's a real good reason for me not to bother with it."
"And that'd be…?"
"It's not funny enough."
"Why the hell were you more'n three hours late gettin' here, B? Rush hour traffic's over."
"I'M GONNA KILL ANDREW WHEN I GET BACK!"
"We've all been there, Buffy. What'd he do now?"
"The little jerk must've been planning this since last week when I made him take me shopping at John Lewis in St. James Center instead of the stupid Star Trek movie premiere he'd been waiting for all month! He switched my shoe bag with something else that made those nasty customs people put me in custody while they went through the rest of my luggage with a fine-tooth comb!"
"For three whole hours? But you're here now, so it couldn't have been that serious. What'd he put in there for payback?"
"…"
"Even my Slayer hearin' didn't catch that, B. Ya wanna try again?"
"Just stuff, all right?! Forget I ever mentioned it, Faith, Xander. Let's talk about our latest problem instead. Now, I'd like to meet up with Mindy McCready—"
"Uh-huh, B. I gotta hunch this is a lotta more interestin', what ya ain't sayin'. Ya with me on this, Xan?"
"Absolutely. Spill it, Buffster."
"You're not going to let this go, are you? Either of you?"
"Not a chance." "Ditto."
"FINE! It was a gift package from Ann Summers, and Andrew must've rigged everything in it to go off when I was in the customs line! My suitcase bounced across the concourse like it was on a trampoline!"
"Cough-cough-hee-hee-cough-ha-ha-gasp-wheeze…!"
"Am I missin' somethin' here? Why the hell did ya almost rupture yerself tryin' to hold in that, Xan?"
"Whooo..." (Giggling.)
"Do you really want me to put your head through this table, Xander?"
"Sounds like she's serious, boytoy. What's the big deal?"
(Snicker.) "Faith, Ann Summers is the name for a chain of sex shops in England and Scotland. Besides lingerie and other bedroom items, they sell things like vibrators. How many of them were found in your suitcase by customs, Buffy?"
"At least a dozen! All of them bright pink and working at full power!"
"HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"
"Have I mentioned lately I hate you, Faith?"
"Awww, ya don't mean it, B. By the way, Xan, how come ya know about the place?"
"Dawn took me to the Princess Street store in Edinburgh the last time I was over there. Hey, it must've been the same one Andrew went to. Now, that would've been something to watch, him buying out their entire vibrator inventory."
"Uhhh… Yeah, that must be it. Say, do they do mail orders?"
"Guess so. Why?"
"Are you both finished? Can we get back to what we're here to discuss in the first place? You know, a twelve-year-old vampire who thinks exterminating entire demon cults with overwhelming firepower is a fun way to spend a school night!"
(Ringtone.)
"Sorry, gotta take this. Yeah, Faith here."
"Hey, Xander, where's that from?"
"Her ringtone? It's new, called 'Two Lost Souls.'"
"I don't know that one."
"It's from the 'fifties Broadway musical Damn Yankees. She won't say why she changed it to that from her old one."
"Yeah, she's here. What? Yeah, that chair. How'd you know? Uh-huh, figures. 'Kay, see ya soon."
"So, who called?"
"Just a sec- Yo, Xan, next time ya chat with Red, tell her the spell she put on our phones to keep 'em private even from us Slayer eavesdroppers is still workin' fine."
"Well, sure, but why are you bringing it- Oh. That was her, right?"
"Betcher ass, boytoy. B, gotta message for ya. It's short and simple. Ya ready?"
"What? Go ahead."
"Look under yer chair."
"Huh?"
(Sigh.) "Look. Under. Your. Chair."
"You don't have to be so snippy- AAAAAAAHHHHH!"
"What's the matter?!"
"MY JIMMY CHOOS! THEY'RE RUINED!"
"Hey, alla Mins did 'fore tapin' 'em under there was to write on 'em 'Welcome to New York, Head Bitch.'"
"She used black marker on leather! It'll never come out!"
"How would somebody raised by a guy so obsessed with comic book characters that he turned his kid into one possibly know that?"
"Shut up, Xander! Faith, you get that little monster here right now! Tell me when that happens and we'll settle this for once and all, but until then, I'm going to try to salvage my favorite pair! Eeeeeeee!"
(Door slams.)
"So, what else did Mindy say?"
"What makes ya think she did?"
"Gee, wild guess here, because I would have."
"Good point. 'Kay, she thought 'bout puttin' 'BOMB' on B's shoes, but decided to save it for later if she don't think of somethin' else."
"You mean that wasn't enough for her to win?"
"It'll be put to the judges, but I gotta say it ranks no more'n a three, maybe a four. We need a full meltdown an' that wasn't it."
"Well, Mindy has until the day's completely over with, so there's still time. Speaking of that, Faith…"
"Yeah?"
"Put me down for another hundred on her."
"Gotcha."