The group finally reunited (Tin Willow had stopped skipping ahead after a short distance because Spikecrow still had his only oilcan), they continued on their way, singing as they pranced, arms linked, along the Purple Prose Road.

A few hours later, taking a much-needed break from singing, the trio of travelers marched single file along the side of the road. Buffy took the lead because she was the Slayer and had to take care of everything herself. Spikecrow followed next, taking advantage of his position behind Buffy to tickle her erotically with straw. Even though it seemed as if this would be rather uncomfortable and rough (not to mention itchy), it gave Buffy the best orgasms of her life. After all, Spikecrow was doing it to her. She liked what he did to her. Tin Willow marched behind Spikecrow, focusing intently on his own heavy breathing and on moving his right knee just so with each step, to test the adage the squeaky wheel gets the grease. Okay, so a knee isn't the same thing as a wheel, but Tin Willow was jonesing for a fix. Because he was addicted to oil.

Oh, and Dawn was there, too. She was acting sullen and kicking the dirt as she walked, perhaps because no one was paying any attention to her. No, that was nothing new. More likely because she looked like a giant overgrown dog with very, very long and very, very shiny hair. So maybe more like a cross between a terrier and Cousin It from the Addams Family, if Cousin It were an ancient dimensional key with shiny, shiny hair.

Hey guys, Dawn queried, attempting to draw attention to herself, do you think there's anything big and scary in these woods, maybe something that would abduct me, forcing Buffy to acknowledge my existence long enough to come to my rescue?

Oh, mmmmnnn, no! Stop that! Buffy cried, even as she drew Spikecrow's hands closer, encouraging to continue his ministrations. Because she really enjoyed his ministrations. If he were more the political type, she was certain she'd enjoy his administrations, too. Mmmm, Spike in a charcoal-grey business suit, his briefcase filled with-- Buffy miraculously managed to wrench her mind back to her sister's whiny question long enough to answer dutifully, Dawnie, there's nothing left that's big and scary enough that I can't beat it. Demons, a hellgod, and vamps. Been there, done that, died and came back again. That's why I'm so bored with my life now, all our demons are internal, and the sense of metaphor is deader than I'll probably ever get to be again.

Still continuing his ministrations, Spikecrow leaned in close to Buffy's ear, and all thoughts of Dawn (if any) were forgotten. Cor, I'll bet you give a great slay, pet. Wish I could've seen some of the moves you used on those demons and hellgods and vamps. Buffy moaned softly.

Demons and hellgods and vamps, Spikecrow chanted, Demons and hellgods and vamps--

Oh, my!

Demons and hellgods and vamps--

Oh, my!

Demons and hellgods and vamps--

Oh, my!

Demons and hellgods and vamps--

Before this disturbing scene could continue for too much longer, an enormous furry beast jumped out of the bushes. Buffy shoved Spikecrow back off of her and took a defensive stance. What do you want? she challenged.

The beast, a massive, rotund lion with the face of a man--with the face of Xander, Buffy quickly noted--growled, then casually rattled off his order: A beer, one of those fried cheese platters if you have it, a Supremo Burger with lots of onions and extra cheese, no pickle, and a side of fries. And a large chocolate shake and apple pie a la mode for dessert.

Buffy responded, I don't have any of that stuff. I'm not a restaurant. For that matter, none of us have any food at all. Spikecrow here is made of straw and Tin Willow is made of tin, so neither one of them needs to eat.

the beast sighed, chastened. He didn't bother asking whether Buffy had any food for herself because it was obvious from looking at her that she hadn't eaten in years. And naturally, he didn't notice Dawn standing there at all. I'm sorry to have bothered you. It's just that I'm so very hungry. I'm wasting away! All I have is this one pork chop, side of bacon, gallon of chocolate pudding, and case of potato chips to last me through the night.

Tin Willow tried to surreptitiously sneak some bacon grease out of the lion's stash (because he was addicted to oil), but backed off when he growled at him.

Oh, dear. Well, my friends and I are headed to Precious String City where the Wizard named Oz is going to solve all our problems. I bet there are a lot of restaurants and grocery stores in Precious String City he could recommend. Maybe you could come with us to get more food? Buffy suggested. Although, if you ask me, you don't look even remotely close to starvation. And you're way cute with all that fur. I'm going to call you Furry Xander. Buffy stroked his soft mane, and Furry Xander purred, even though he wasn't a vampire.

Dawn interjected, I've been furry for a while now, and you never once said that I was cute this way. You never even said anything at all!

Furry Xander recovered from his purring fit. The Wizard named Oz could give me more food? I am deeply and profoundly in love with that idea. I'm ready. With that, he took his turn to burst into song.

Though I may seem round and puffy,
I need carbs and sweets, dear Buffy,
Meat products, fried or stewed;
Ice cream, cheese, and other dairy'd
Keep my manly chest all hairy
If I only had more food.

I'd forget the pain of famine,
Gulp down fries, sweet lard n' ham n'
Not wait until I'd chewed.

I'd be a glutton with a gizzard....

Tin Willow and Spikecrow chimed in,

I'd not rust in a blizzard....

I'd be slimy as a lizard....

The group linked arms once again and resumed skipping down the road as they sang together,

If the Wizard is a Wizard who is good.
Then I'm sure to get

A cock,

Some oil,

Tara--er, sorry, Glinda appeared in a little bubble out of nowhere and belted out a line in her melodic singing voice.

A spine,

Then she floated away again.

A home,

More food!


The happily prancing gang suddenly dispersed and leapt off to the sides of the road as two wart-covered creatures with monkey tails swooped down from the sky.

Wart-covered flying monkeys! Tin Willow exclaimed. I wonder what they might need that they can ask the Wizard named Oz for in Precious String City. But they were already gone. Oh, and they'd taken Dawn-puppy with them, but nobody even noticed and nobody even cared. Never mind that, then, I guess, Tin Willow continued, visibly shaking. Let's get going, I need more oil and soon! The Wizard named Oz will make us all very happy for the rest of our lives! He is exactly what we need to make our lives complete! Buffy and Spikecrow rose hastily from their position in the bushes and brushed themselves off. Buffy had straw in all kinds of places she didn't want to think about now.

But Furry Xander remained in his position hunched over on the other side of the road, glassy-eyed and rocking back and forth.

*************************************


I've brought you a zebra, Mama Lion said softly, laying the kill before her mate. I do hope it pleases you, darling.

Papa Lion roared, This zebra is skin and bones! How dare you present me with such a puny kill again? You're a poor excuse for a lioness and I don't know how I ever put up with the likes of you! Get back out there and don't show yourself again until you've brought me something edible. This thing's barely worthy of that furry little runt of yours.

Mama Lion protested, the ladies and I, preying on the weak and the old--it is our way!

IT IS NOT MY WAY! Papa Lion roared. Bring me something MEATY! he cried, and stormed out of the den.

Mama Lion brushed a tear from her eye and nudged the kill toward her litter of cubs. Here you are little ones. Eat up now, eat your fill. That's right....

*************************************


Furry Xander mumbled, No, no, I can't go to Precious String City to ask the Wizard named Oz for more food. He's a good wizard from what I hear, and he deserves better than this.

What the hell, Furry Xander? Buffy asked. You were completely in love with the idea a few minutes ago.

No, I can't go, I'm sorry, so sorry, I can't do it, Furry Xander mumbled on. Someday, I'd love to, but I just can't.

Oh, for crying out loud! Buffy hoisted Furry Xander over her shoulder and stepped onto the Purple Prose road. Her petite frame bore the weight of the timid carnivore as she pressed forward, pondering all the while the future she and her new friends, the straw man with the superlative rock-hard straw abs, whose ministrations never failed to bring her great oceans of cascading waterfalls of pleasure; the woman or man or whatever it was, whose tin body reflected the otherworldly sunlight with a glinting brilliance matched only by the stars; and the soft corpulent feline slung across her shoulder, would face at the end of the long and winding road the hue of violets in late spring when the sun's rays. . .