A/N: Am I the only person who really wants a Dawn POV song!fic set to "It's Not Easy Being Green"?
Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if one already exists...
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It's Not Easy Being Green
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"No, no, no," the green ball of energy hummed. "You cannot make me human. Or give me to – her." In a scrying glass help up by a monk, the ball of energy observed a woman puttering about an art gallery in a lime green pantsuit. "I refuse."
"Refusal is not an option," the monk said. "Glory draws closer, and The Key and all worlds are in dire peril."
"I think the multi-verse is already in peril even without Glory," the ball of energy hummed. "This Slayer that you say will defend me is currently trapped in a soldier's body, making googly-eyes at a vampire. We won't even talk about what Spike's sire just did to his grandsire, fitting though it may be." The glow floated to the top of the warehouse and hovered there, appearing to peer through a set of tiny windows and into the world beyond. "The supposedly powerful witch is the reason the Slayer's in the wrong body, shoveling Lucky Charms into her mouth like there's no tomorrow, in the first place. The Slayer's Watcher is hitting on her other friend like some pathetic old geezer. And the Slayer's mother – who would be my mother, incidentally – has terrible taste in clothes. I mean, not to sound like Glory here, but come on. I don't care if it's Seventies Week on Main Street, that outfit should've been burned before it even left the factory."
"The Slayer will not fail," the monk assured the ball of energy. "The future has been foreseen. Do not worry."
"Do not worry," the ball mimicked, sounding surprisingly like a teenage girl. "I'm a ball of energy. What else have I got to do but worry?"
"Worrying will not help," the monk said. "Safety is assured."
"Ugh! And this pronoun curse!"
"Still not understanding how The Key may speak normally," the monk said in equal parts awe and bewilderment. "All sentient beings are affected but The Key. Truly a miracle!"
"No, it's because I'm not really talking at all. I'm just projecting ideas and..."
"But the ideas can be clearly interpreted. The power of The Key is humbling."
"You know what? Just – stop talking until this curse is over. I can't take listening to you yammering away, all convoluted and non-sense-making. Argh!" The ball of energy dropped rapidly back down to the ground, flashing pulses of bright, angry green.
The monk cowered under the ball's displeasure, then grabbed up a ball of yarn and two knitting needles and shoved the yarn and needles into the center of the green glow. "Knitting is said to be very soothing in times of stress," the monk said. "Perhaps knitting will be soothing to The Key."
"You want me to knit?" the ball hummed incredulously. "I'm a freaking glowing green ball of energy! How the heck do you expect me to knit?"
"The Key is all-powerful and all-wise. The Key will find a way. And..." The monk hesitated for a moment, then said, "If The Key does not calm down, certainly Glory will be attracted to The Key's emanations of power and find The Key before preparations for protection can be completed."
"Fine," the ball hummed sulkily. The glow contracted, and the needles shifted. "Just – make sure to set the TV to the local channel. I don't want to miss the Riverdance coverage. Michael Flatley might be a ass, but he's a talented ass."
"As The Key wishes," the monk said.
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