Remaining hidden from mere human eyes as an intangible figure, Xander Harris watched with an evil smirk on his face while a certain newspaper publisher roamed through the newsroom, screaming at everyone in his vicinity to get busy and work on tomorrow's edition or they'd be instantly fired on the spot!

Pulling out his fake plastic cigar clenched between his teeth, Xander stuck his tongue out at where J. Jonah Jameson unknowingly stormed past towards his office, the older man's own smelly cigar leaving behind billows of smoke and coughing people.

Tossing the Halloween prop over his shoulder where it vanished from existence, Xander then patted the diminutive purple derby hat perched on his head which was the only other thing to be found in Ethan's odds-and-ends box when he'd desperately rummaged through it to search for some sort of cheap costume he could cobble up from the rest of the junk in there. Imagine his surprise when a couple of hours later, this teenager actually turned into Mr. Mxyzptlk, an impish trickster with immense magical powers who enjoyed teasing Superman.

Of course, right afterwards the entire Powers That Be turned up to confront a total troublemaker they definitely didn't want anywhere in their dimension. Two choices were implacably offered to a deadpan Mxy: utter eradication, or exile to another reality, as far away as possible. Pick either, now.

Xander negotiated with the PTB into being allowed to say goodbye to his friends before leaving, and to choose his new home. In turn, the Powers okayed a permanent exile to the Marvel Universe, albeit one without the Impossible Man. All they needed was a team-up between those two…

In the newsroom, still invisible, Xander's smirk became much more evil than before. Apparently the Powers That Be were dumber than even the most dull-witted prison guard, or they would've never let him hug everyone – the Buffster, Wils, Cordy, Joyce, even G-man - farewell. That'd been all it'd taken for Xander to put the time-release spells on his friends. Whenever they were in danger in the future, something was sure to cause a painfully humiliating defeat for anyone threatening the only people in Sunnydale which Xander was going to miss.

Giving himself a shake, Xander put away for now any last-minute regrets. On the contrary, it was time for fun!

Grinning like a loon, Xander strolled through a wall in a bee-line towards Triple-J's office.

A couple of minute later, Joseph Robertson, editor-in-chief for the Daily Bugle heard a familiar "ROBBIE!" being screamed from the main office across the executive corridor. Sighing as he tossed down onto his desk the pencil he was using to proof copy, this mature African-American went to see what Jameson was in such a lather about now.

Robbie found out the moment he came to a dead halt in the doorway, gaping at the absurd scene before himself. Evidently, Jonah's toothbrush mustache had somehow grown to a dozen times its former size, came to energetic life with tendrils sprouting everywhere, and one of these wiry coils wrapped around the handle was briskly pounding hard the publisher's coffee cup onto a flattop haircut.

Ducking a stray blob of coffee which splatted onto the wall by him, Robbie continued to observe in fascination how Jonah was uselessly running in circles around his desk, arms flailing in an equally futile attempt to protect him from even more lumps on his skull. Catching sight of his visitor on the latest circuit, Jonah bellowed at the unmoving black man, "Do something, Robbie! OW! OW! OW!"

Leaning a shoulder against the doorway side, Robbie crossed his arms and calmly replied, "Like what, Jonah? Call a barber, maybe?"

The tendril holding the coffee cup threw this container against the wall, smashing the cup to pieces. The end of that tendril then pointed itself right at Robbie and next slowly waggled back and forth several times in a definite 'No way, Jose' gesture.

Sending an agreeable nod towards the tendril, Robbie rubbed at his chin in thought before saying, "Jonah, did you do something to cause this?"

Nonchalantly sidling towards his desk where there was a pair of scissors in one drawer, Jonah came to an abrupt stop while glaring at his only friend in the entire building, "NO! All I was doing was putting up the latest headline of 'SPIDERMAN: CITY-WIDE MENACE—'"

ga-ronk!

Accompanied by that odd sound effect coming from thin air, Jonah's already huge mustache instantly tripled in size. All the new tendrils were now even longer and much stronger, seeing how they extruded themselves up and into the ceiling where they latched onto the I-beams running through there past the ceiling tiles.

In a flash, Jonah's whole body was lifted up and slammed into the ceiling, sending chunks of plaster raining to the floor. Now completely covered with white dust, Jonah was lowered down to at Robbie's head level.

Brightening up as if realizing something, Robbie announced to the publisher dazedly spitting out plaster, "Jonah, say, 'The sky is green.'"

"What?"

"Just do it already!" impatiently ordered Robbie.

Giving his employee a dirty look, Jonah grumbled, "The sky is green."

Nothing happened.

Nodding in satisfaction, Robbie then suggested, "Try this one: 'Spider-man is a hero.'"

Stiffening in shock over what he'd just heard, Jonah instead roared, "Damned if I will! That lousy wall-crawler's obviously in cahoots with all the villains he pretends to fight—"

GA-RONK!

The mustache now occupied every inch of the office, blocking Robbie's gaze with tendrils. He could still hear what was going on in there, what with the loud whacking sounds and Jonah bitterly complaining in pain, "QUIT SPANKING ME! Put me down and fight like a man! Robbie-!"

All Robbie did was to say politely, "I'll come back later when you're not busy."

After this, he watched with interest as the edge of the door was covered with tendrils which started shoving the door closed. Just before it completely shut, one individual tendril waved goodbye to Robbie.

Robbie waved back, and then strolled towards his own office. He had a newspaper to put out, after all.