Commercial for Judge Mathis.

Commercial for Polaroid sticky film.

Commercial for McDonalds.

Local commercial for Don Beyer Volvo.

Commercial for Felicity: Felicity meets two freshmen who aren't
impressed by her, and she doesn't know what to do. "And so we got
out of Hell." "I thought you said you came from Lawndale." "It's
the same thing."

Commercial for Dawson's Creek: [Paula Cole: I Don't Want To Wait]
A mysterious woman comes to Capeside, and now someone's life may
be over. [Is that Julie Benz?]

---

"So, English. How long ago did you know her? Did you know her
when she used to rock and roll?"

"Yes, Wesley. Did you know her when she used to do the Pony?"

"I confess. I knew her when she used to do the Stroll."

Angel walks in, heading to the refrigerator and his liquid lunch.

"Hey, Angel! Wesley knew the bride!" Wesley groans, and Angel
walks toward the group. He takes the newspaper from Cordelia,
does a double-take, and says, "Yes, Wesley. Why don't you tell
Winifred exactly how you met the bride."

"I was her bodyguard."

Gunn muttered, "She really works fast, doesn't she."

"Tell her how you met, Wesley."

"Must you?" Angel glared. "I was masquerading as Angel to guard
her--only to save Cordelia's life."

"But that can't work. No blowy-up thing. And mirrors."

"Well, her family is impressively stupid." Angel coughed. "And
we seduced each other."

"So, that's what you call it, Wesley. Remind me not to trust
anything you say."

"I was trying to save your life."

"Give it a rest, stud-muffin. Let's get out of here,
Fred. There's a Betsey Johnson with my name on it." Cordelia and
Fred walk out, and Gunn follows them.

"Angel, all animosity aside, can you try to find out who might be
consorting with the Divza? I'll try to get a handle on the
wedding."

"I know just who to talk to."

---

Angel barges through a door in some random-looking underground
warren. Yes, it's the usual suspect, Merl.

"Oh, hell. What on Earth do you want now?"

Angel lifts Merl up and pushes him against a wall. "Do you know
anyone who's dealing with Divza demons?"

"Hey, hey. What about simple courtesy? I'm not involved with
them--are you nuts? They hate me--they hate everybody. But, why
should I help you?"

"Because I'll make your life miserable if you don't."

"You already are; you're here."

"I don't have time for this. Talk."

"Hey! A demon's gotta live you know. You think the others like my
talking to you? You gotta make it worth my while. And if you hurt
me, you won't get anything from me."

"All right. What do you want? Two hundred?"

"You think I want just money? I want a ticket to the next
Lakers-Kings game."

"What? You know how hard it is to get those? Besides--the way
you look, you won't exactly blend in."

"It'll just be a weird costume. Tickets, or no talk."

"I'll see what I can do."

"You promise, Angel?"

"All right. But you don't get anything unless you help me."

"Yeah, well. Whatever. Well, no one's said boo about Divza
demons; in fact, it's been pretty quiet this month. But, there's
a namby-pamby thing--named Brikksa, I think. He roots around in
caves, farms seriously weird mushrooms. Some humans would go
nutsy for them. Well, he's boasting of making a killing selling
some rare 'shrooms to an alchemist. He says those 'shrooms can be
cooked up into a pretty entrancing brew. I don't know; you think
somebody might be entrancing some Divza?"

"It's pretty thin. Tell me where Brikksa stays, and I'll go talk
with him."

"Just talk?"

---

"Okay. Dennis will tape that show for you. Fred, your five years
in Pylea--did anything happen to you?"

"Of course things happened to me. I was a cow for them for 5
years. At least until I figured out how to break the collar and
get away. It was icky and filthy and I thought I never would get
back. Pass the salsa, please. Ooh, spicy!"

"No, I mean, did the talk about Wesley and Virginia upset you?"

"Oh. Ooh! You're asking if they did anything to me. Nah. The
masters thought of us as cows. They'd never dream of doing
that. They wouldn't enjoy it, but they didn't enjoy anything. And
the other cows? I can take care of myself."

"Sorry I asked."

"No, no. I'd tell you. So, Wesley and Ginny. Why'd they break
up?"

"Wesley got shot, and Virginia couldn't take it any more. It
scared her."

"So, she's getting married so soon? I don't want to marry for
years yet. 'I want to be free! I've got to be free!'"

"You and Lorne would get along well."

"So, you think she's the right bride? Who would want to do that
to her?"

"It's probably a business thing, like the last time. Or it's
because of her father from Hell, but that's much the same." She
drifted off.

"So, who hates her father most? Or seems to like her father
most?"

Cordelia's eyes widened. "You want to stay at my place tonight?
We'll get on my computer and search."

---

Wesley read the newspaper. "Bob Florenthal, head of Florenthal
Florists, said that 'There's more to LA than Hollywood and the TV
networks. There are lots of big businesses here that stay far
away from show biz, and we want to help these companies and these
families shine. You don't have to be a Tom Cruise or a Mel
Gibson to deserve a great wedding; we'll make sure of that.'"

He paced the floor for a moment. "I wonder if Florenthal is
hiring."

---

Angel climbed up the side of a hill and looked inside a cave; it
seemed lifeless, but so did Angel; that meant nothing. He dimmed
his flashlight until his eyes adjusted to the cave, and then he
went in. He sniffed--there was a faint demon smell, and there was
the stench of fear he remembered all too well from causing it in
others. He made his way toward the back of the cave--a rockfall
blocked the rear. He moved the fallen rocks away and made a hole
he could fit through, and then he went past the barrier. Brikksa
lay on the ground; his arms were tied behind him, and his throat
had been cut.

"Well, somebody didn't want to keep a bargain."