The Puppet Show (Cordelia's Version)

Disclaimer: See chapter one

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Harmony and I spoke on the phone for at least an hour last night, discussing which song would be best for my debut as a solo artist. I figure all superstars have to work hard to get where they are, so that's what I'm doing…

Entering into and performing a solo act for a talent show is a lot more work than it looks…plus they make you rehearse in front of all the drama geeks, which is more than any person of high status should have to endure.

Which leads me to what I'm doing right now…rehearsing in front of a bunch of drama geeks.

At least my song is going well…even that stuffy old librarian has a look of intense concentration on his face…or else he's constipated – I can never tell the difference.

"Learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all. I decided long ago never to walk in anyone's shadow. If I fail, if I succeed, at least…"

"Thank you, Cordelia. Tha-that's going to be lovely."

Rude much? I wasn't finished!

"But I didn't do the part with the sparklers!"

"Um, w-we'll, um…save that for the dress rehearsal. Uh Lisa! Please!"

"Uhhh!"

In total irritation I replace the microphone back on its stand and leave the stage. Who wants to listen to Lisa and her tuba anyway?

Aaah!

What idiot let a rabbit loose in the school?

It's unhygienic and plus what if I'd stepped on it and broken my leg or something? I am so telling Principal Snooder!

Did I mention that our new Principal started this week? Apparently he came highly recommended by the Mayor, and he's Hitler re-incarnated. I've even heard some people referring to him as a nazi.

But back to the problem at hand, like the rabbit running around unchecked…I hope this wasn't lunch. Or here's an even worse thought, what if there are other animals loose in the school?

My gaze falls on Xander…ooh there's one now! Somebody should shoot him and put me out of my misery.

I should seriously nominate his parents for a nobel, they need to be rewarded for not having any more kids after their first failure.

Heh! Yup it's Xander dissing day again. I try to have one at least once a week, it keeps me on a happy high!

Speaking of Principal Snooker…here he comes now with the Librarian from Scotland.

"Kids today need discipline. That's an unpopular word these days, 'discipline'. I know Principal Flutie would have said, 'Kids need understanding. Kids are human beings. That's the kind of woolly-headed, liberal thinking that leads to being eaten."

Hey! I liked Mr Flutes, he was like my mentor…almost like a second father to me you little Nazi person.

"I, I think perhaps it was a little more complex than, um…"

"This place has quite a reputation. Suicide, missing persons, spontaneous cheerleader combustion… You can't put up with that. You've gotta keep an eye on the bad element."

Okay, well at least I'm not the only person who's noticed, I don't feel so alone with my all-knowingness now.

"Like those three."

He nods towards Buffy and the gang…it's like we're on the same wave-length, he reads my mind.

He's still a freak though…

It's another dead body. More people die in this school than actually attend here, soon the teachers will be teaching themselves, unless they land up headless in fridges like that other teacher-guy.

Emily's heart was cut out, in our very own locker room – a place I go into on a daily basis. Is there no-where safe in this school anymore?

And why am I not surprised that the freak squad is loitering around the locker room?

So I'm on my way to Cheerleader practice when Xander corners me. He wants to talk about the latest murder.

For once I'm okay with his presence, 'cause this has been very traumatic for me and I need to get it off my chest…to help the healing.

"It's just such a tragedy for me. Emma was, like, my best friend."

"Emily."

Excuse me, I think out of everyone I would know the name of my childhood friend. We were like special friends, I don't recall ever speaking to her, but we had this bond, as only best friends can. Besides, your interruptions are destroying my moment of pain here, have you no consideration for the dead?

"All I can think is, it coulda been me!"

"We can dream."

Hello? Still talking!

I'm not sure if all this hard work is really worth it…with daddy's money I could probably buy my way into showbiz…right?

I was awake most of the night after suffering nightmares of Buffy cutting my heart out, and then I get to school and this happens…

"I don't understand why I…why I have to follow Brett and his stupid band."

I've been backstage for the last hour arguing my point to Mr Giles who doesn't seem to get the seriousness of this problem. He also stutters a lot, which is really annoying 'cause I have to wait, like, forever for him to finish a sentence and lets face it, it's not like the guy has anything interesting to say anyway, and the stuttering just prolongs the torture.

"Because we have to clear their equipment before the finale. I told you."

Who cares about their equipment, we're talking about my act and how it's going to be ruined if it has to follow their stupid act. Does anyone ever listen to me?

"But the mood! It'll be all wrong! My song is about dignity and human feelings and personal…hygiene or something. Anyway, it's sappy, and no one is gonna be feeling sappy after all that Rock and Roll."

Am I the only one with brains in this place? Why is it so hard for anyone else to grasp such a simple fact as which acts should follow which ones?

And…hey…why's he looking at me like that?

"Uhhh, what?"

"Oh! I'm sorry. Um, your hair, uh…"

What! My hair…is it…uhh!

"There's something wrong with my hair?"

He says nothing, just keeps staring at me like…like I'm Buffy or something.

"Ohmigod!"

I rush out of the theatre, trying to find the shortest and least populated distance to a mirror…what if someone sees me in this state with my hair all…all whatever?

I'm still seething from the whole hair episode. I don't know how they wear their hair back in Germany or wherever Mr Giles is from, but back here in civilized country, my hair is the epitome of perfection.

Of course, I'm still suffering from post bad hair syndrome, and have to continually check that it's okay, which is getting tiresome, and causing the girls to speculate on my sanity. Like they'd be this calm after suffering a similar experience.

I'm sitting in history listening to Mrs. Jackson drone on about some or other dead president. He's dead lady, get over it…live in the now a little, then maybe you'd get a date and stop harassing those of us who do have lives.

Okay, so I'm in a bad mood, thank god it's not that time of the month, else I'd be on a murderous rampage right about now.

I'm so caught up in my thoughts of murdering un-named librarians that I almost don't notice the starring contest that Buffy is having with Morgan's dummy.

She's starring at it as if it's about to jump up and do the mambo in minute. That girl has some serious issues…not to mention bad hair, which makes me wonder how she can stand being around Mr. Giles and his weird hair fetish for such long periods of time?

Anyway, this opportunity is just too good to pass up on.

"Looks like someone digs you. That's adorable. You and the dummy could tour in the freak show!"

Heh! I sit back in my chair feeling very smug.

I'm feeling much better now, but that doesn't stop me from pulling out my compact and checking my hair again. Still looking good! Oh yeah!

"Okay, who can tell me how Spain responded to this policy?"

Ugh!

I check my watch, counting down the minutes till this mass boredom ends.

Apparently Mrs. Jackson has caught Morgan is some act of disobedience or whatever, 'cause she's standing over him and glaring…I watch this with interest, it certainly beats dead presidents and stupid policies in countries many miles away.

"Morgan? Morgan?" demands Mrs. Jackson.

"What?" asks Morgan, you can hear the irritation in his voice. I'm surprised actually, 'cause he's usually so quiet and polite.

"Morgan has other things on his mind." Okay, apparently his act for the talent show has gone to his head 'cause now he's talking in the third person, pretending to be the dummy. It's lame, but everyone laughs anyway, except for Mrs. Jackson who approaches him in anger.

"Give me your puppet" she orders.

"I'll put him away" says Morgan nervously, he acts like he can't get through the day without his wooden doll.

"You'll get it back after school" she takes the dummy away and puts it in her cupboard before returning back to the class.

I can already feel myself drifting off in anticipation of the boredom to come.

"Okay, then. In the first part of the nineteenth century…"

"I'm still watching you."

I look up in surprise because that came from the cupboard, I had no idea Morgan could do that, it's gotta come in handy being able to throw your voice like that.

Obviously Mrs. Jackson isn't so impressed 'cause she tells him to stop it, which he does and of course I return to my previous state of dozing…

Oh. Oh. I don't think I can do this, who knew so many people would come to watch the stupid talent show?

"Fifteen minutes to curtain, everyone! Uh, fifteen minutes."

Shouts out Mr. Giles, to me it sounds like a death sentence. I chase down Mr. Giles to tell him I'm not doing this thing anymore 'cause it's lame and I don't feel like doing it!

"I, I can't go out there. All those people staring at me and judging my like I'm some kind of…Buffy! What if I mess up?"

I'll never live it down, it'll haunt me 'till the day I die. My kids will be hearing about it in kindergarten, they'll be treated like freaks and…

"Cordelia, there, uh, there-there's, uh, uh, an adage, uh, that, uh, if you're feeling nervous, then, uh, you should imagine the entire audience are in their underwear."

It takes me a while to translate his sentence into English, when I do finally grasp what he's saying and consider it I'm totally grossed out, what kind of teacher tells you to imagine porn whilst singing to an audience?

"Eww! Even Mrs. Franklin? Uhhh!"

That's just not right, and neither is Mr. Giles.

"Perhaps not."

"Yeah."

You weirdo. Wait 'till daddy informs the school board of this buster!

"Um, alright, um, we'll assemble on the stage in five minutes for the, um, uh power thing."

I don't know what that means, but it had better not involve porn, 'cause I'm still reeling from the visual image of Mrs. Franklin in her underwear watching me sing.

Everyone gathers backstage as we prepare for the power thing.

"Quickly, everyone! Uh…um, power circle."

We form a circle and hold hands waiting for the signal from Mr. Giles on what to do next.

"Well, that's that, then. Um, everybody, uh, get ready!"

I don't get it? Well whatever, I've got bigger problems to attend to…like naked teachers…

I've never seen anything as pathetically lame as this is in my entire life. It's worse than that time this guy I dated once took me to this foreign film it had subtitles and everything, hence the reason I only dated him the once.

Buffy, Willow and Xander are on stage, ruining whatever reputation they had left by their hideousness of an act.

"Oh, ruler of my country, Oedipus, you see our company around the Altar, and I, the Priest of Zeus!" Says Willow, with little emotion.

This is worse than having your finger nails pulled out with a pair of pliers…