Title: The Dead Slayer Sketch
Author: The Monty Python team with added bits by Just Me
Rating: PG-13 – Spike says some mildly naughty words - he's a bad, rude man.
Disclaimer: I own none of it, not a bloody word - not even a syllable. The Dead Parrot Sketch is owned by those geniuses..es..es behind Monty Python, and the BtVS characters are owned by Mutant Enemy - heck I don't even own the computer this was written on. No intentional attempts to get myself sued have been made, honest guv'nor
Just Me's notes: I've lost my mind! The eee-eee-eeeeee reference is from Lucy van Pelt's wonderful series Benediction http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=606479 go read it… uh but not until you've read this.
Huge thanks to my lovely betas Lesley and Ellen who have shown me that it's ok to dip my toes in the beta pool again – you're both wonderful! Thanks also to Spud, my brother, who went above and beyond the call of duty to research castle doors for me.
*~*~*~*
It's the dead of night. A shadowy figure approaches a grand stone mansion with a scrawny bundle slung across his left shoulder. He raps sharply on the large oak door.
Spike: Oi! Open up, yer wankers! I wanna register a complaint.
A smaller door to his left opens and a bespectacled man is just visible in the gloom.
Spike: 'Ello, are you a Watcher?
Watcher: I might be, who's asking?
Spike: (playing the Big Bad) Spike, formerly William the Bloody, one-time right hand vamp to the Scourge of Europe and parts of California. I wish to make a complaint!
Watcher: We're closed for supper.
Spike: Bugger that, ponce. I wish to complain about this Slayer what was supplied by this very Council.
Watcher: Oh yes, Ms, uh, Buffy Summers… What's, uh... What's wrong with her?
Spike: I'll tell you what's wrong with her, you pillock. She's dead, that's what's wrong with her!
Watcher: No, no, she's uh... she's resting.
Spike: Look, you git, I know a dead Slayer when I see one. I've killed enough of 'em in my time and I'm looking at one right now.
Watcher: No, no she's not dead, she's… she's resting! Remarkable Slayer is she not, eh? Beautiful… (The Watcher's hands make a cupping motion) …plumage!
Spike: Her 'plumage' don't enter into it. She's stone dead.
Watcher: Nononono, no, no! She's resting!
Spike: All right then, if she's restin', I'll wake her up! (shouting at the bundle) 'Ello, luv! You up for a bit o' rough 'n tumble? Me - you - cozy little tomb with a view...?
The Watcher picks up an umbrella from a nearby stand and nudges the bundle.
Watcher: There, she moved!
Spike: No, she didn't, that was you nudging the bundle!
Watcher: I never!
Spike: Yes, you bloody did!
Watcher: I can assure you that I never did anything of the sort...
Spike: (yelling and shaking the bundle repeatedly) 'ELLO SLAYER!!! Testing! Testing! Non fat latte! Jimmy Choo! C'mon Slayer, you know you wanna dance!
Spike unwraps the bundle and smacks the Slayer's head against the doorframe, before resorting to their usual method of foreplay and throwing her against the wall. They watch as she slides to the floor.
Spike: Now that's what I call a dead Slayer.
Watcher: No, no… No, she's stunned!
Spike: STUNNED?!?
Watcher: Yeah! You stunned her, just as she was waking up! This Slayer stuns easily. Look at that blank look. Isn't it just the same as the blank look she had in that episode in season six?
Spike: Which episode in season six?
Watcher: Uh… all of them.
Spike: Now look, mate, I've definitely 'ad enough of this. This Slayer is soddin' deceased. When I got her, you assured me that her total lack of expression was due to her bein' tired and incapacitated.
Watcher: Well, she's... she's ah... probably pining for (sings off key) Heeeeeeeeaven.
Spike: PININ' for HEEEEAVEN?!?! What kind of talk is that? Look, why did she fall flat on her back the moment I took her back to my crypt?
Watcher: Automatic response to repeated stimulus mixed with the smell of leather. Remarkable Slayer, isn't she, Sir? Lovely… plumage!
Spike: Look, I took the liberty of examining this Slayer and I discovered the only reason that she was layin' on my sarcophagus in the first place, was that she had been NAILED there.
Watcher: Well, of course she was nailed there! If she hadn't blown up your bedroom, she would have nuzzled up to you on that queen-size bed, handcuffed you to the headboard, and BANG! Eee-eee-eeeeeeeee!
Spike: "BANG"?!? Mate, this Slayer wouldn't "Bang" if you hit her with an invisibility ray! She's bleedin' demised!
Watcher: No no! She's pining!
Spike: She's not pinin'! She's passed on! This Slayer is no more! She has ceased to be! She's expired and gone to meet 'er maker! She's a stiff! Bereft of life, she… (Spike momentarily breaks into song) rests in peace! If she hadn't been nailed on my sarcophagus, she'd be pushing up the daisies! 'Er metabolic processes are now 'istory! She's off the twig! She's kicked the bucket, she's shuffled off 'er mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisible!
THIS IS AN EX-SLAYER!!!
