Fear, Itself
B=Buffy, G=Giles, X=Xander, W=Willow, O=Oz, J=JoyceA=Anya, R=Riley, PW=Professor Walsh, FG1=Frat Guy #1, FG2=Frat Guy #2
X: I don't know - I was going for ferocious/scary, but it's coming out more dryly sardonic.
W: It does appear to be mocking you with its eyeholes.
O: Yeah, and its nosehole seems sad and full of self-loathing.
B: I was just thinking about the life of a pumpkin. Grow up in the sun, happily entwined with others, and then someone comes along, cuts you open, and rips your guts out.
X: People, prepare to have your spines tingled and your gooses bumped by the terrifying... Fantasia. Fantasia?
O: Maybe it's because of all the horrific things we've seen, but hippos wearing tutus just don't unnerve me the way they used to.
B: The scary house? Sounds kind of lame.
O: It actually borders on fun.
X: I got better things to do than tag along to some fraternity.
W: You can come.
X: 'Kay. But only because I lied about having better things to do.
O: Laughs will be had by all.
B: I'm gonna get going.
X: Now? The night's still... well, okay, it's a little mature, but still...
X: Sad Buffy.
W: She didn't even touch her pumpkin. It's a freak with no face.
X: Bailing on the Buff. Does anyone else want to smack that guy?
W: I just feel like I've plateaued, wicca-wise.
B: You know, if it's too much, don't do it.
W: Don't do it? What kind of encouragement is that?
B: This is an encouragement talk? I thought it was "share my pain".
W: I'll know when I've reached my limit.
O: Wine coolers?
B: Magic.
O: Ooh. Didn't encourage her, did you?
W: Where's supportive boyfriend guy?
O: Oh, he's picking up your dry-cleaning. But he told me to tell you he's afraid you're gonna get hurt.
W: Okay, Brutus. //pause// Brutus. Uh, Caesar? Betrayal, trusted friend, back-stabby?
O: Oh, I'm with you on the reference, but...
O: But, just know that, whatever you decide, I'll back your play.
B: See? Concerned guy is sweet guy.
B: I don't want to deal with this right now. I'm taking a holiday from dealing. Happily vacationing in the land of not-coping.
B: I don't want to meet someone. I've reached my quota on someones.
B: Oh... my god.
G: It's a sombrero.
B: And it's on your head.
G: It seemed festive.
G: Creatures of the night shy away from Halloween. They find it all much too crass.
B: Hard to believe.
FG1: If we cannot scare the young women, they will not fall into our arms. We'll have womanless arms. Halloween's not about thrills, chills, and funny costumes. It's about getting laid.
FG2: Is there any holiday that's not about getting laid?
FG1: Arbor day.
X: Anya, you really have to get this knocking thing down.
A: Your Uncle Rory let me in. Does he always smell like peppermint?
X: The man likes his schnapps.
X: You said you were over me.
A: And you just accepted that?
X: That's the funny thing about me. I tend to hear the actual words people say, and accept them at face value.
A: That's stupid.
X: I accept that.
X: I can't say seeing you falls into the realm of a bad thing.
A: Really? I thought maybe we could go out tonight. For our anniversary.
X: Anniversary?
A: It's been exactly one week since we copulated.
A: Are we dating?
X: There are definitely date-like qualities at work here.
X: You'll need a costume.
A: A costume?
X: Dress up. You know, something scary.
A: Scary? scary how?
X: Anya, you, ex-demon, terrorized mankind for centuries. I'm sure you'll come up with something.
B: I, um, couldn't make it to class for personal reasons.
PW: Right. I count four limbs, a head, no visible scarring, so I assume your personal issue wasn't a life-threatening accident of any kind, and I'm therefore uninterested.
R: I can't remember the last time I saw your hand up.
B: Does stretching count?
R: Too much fun, or not enough?
B: Both, actually.
R: But, hey, there is some good scary fun to be had on campus tonight.
B: Yeah, what are you doing?
R: Well, I am gonna sit here and grade papers.
B: Scary.
R: Very.
B: Well, thanks for the pep talk, coach.
R: Don't make fun. I worked long and hard to get this pompous.
FG1: Thanks for the loan, man. Our sound system sucks.
O: Mi Casio es su Casio.
FG1: Eyeballs, man. Blindfold chicks, have them put their hands in the bowl, then tell them it's eyeballs. They love that.
X: And here I was wasting time buying them flowers, and complimenting them on their shoes.
O: Oh, Xander's a civilian.
FG1: Ah, townie, huh? Didn't know. Looked so normal.
X: Sensing a disturbance in the force, Master?
O: Oh, left speaker's crackling a little bit.
X: And you feel stabbing it's the proper solution?
B: Oh, no. Someone's getting nostalgic face.
J: I'm sorry. I'm thinking about that little girl who wore that. What is it, 5, 6 years ago?
B: Little Red Riding Hood was the cutting edge in costumes.
J: He just wanted to keep you safe.
B: No, he wanted the candy. I was just the beard.
J: Oh, that's not true. Actually, the candy was for me.
J: I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm still a little gun-shy. It certainly didn't help that my last boyfriend turned out to be a homicidal robot.
W: We have to make sure she has fun. We have to force fun pon her. Yeah, and if Parker shows up, we'll just ax-murder him. That's halloweenie.
X: What ya got in the basket, little girl?
B: Weapons.
X: Oh.
X: Insurance. You know, in case we get turned into our costumes again, I'm going for cool secret agent guy.
B: I hate to break it to you, but you'll probably end up cool head-waiter guy.
X: As long as I'm cool and wield some kind of power.
B: Will! Medieval Will.
B: Nice costumes. Very stealthy.
B: Perfect. Everybody's got a date but third-wheel Buffy.
B: Terrifying. If I were Abbot and Costello, this would be fairly traumatic.
W: Eew! Cobweb. Okay, that part was realistic.
X: What is it?
B: Thank the lord.
O: Cowering in a closet is starting to sound like a reasonable plan.
A: Are you listening? Xander's trapped.
B: Conjuring? Will, let's be realistic here, okay? Your basic spells are usually only about 50/50.
X: Funny how you still haven't lost your sense of inappropriate humor.
W: Look, we found the stairs. Buffy didn't find the stairs, no sir.
A: Well?
X: I'd offer my opinion, but you jerks aren't going to hear it anyway. Not that didn't-go-to-college boy has anything important to say. I might as well hang out with my new best friend, bleeding dummy head, for all you dorks care.
W: The icon's called the Mark of Gachnar. I think this is a summoning spell for something called...
W: It feeds on fear.
X: Giles? Hey, everyone, it's Giles. With a chainsaw.
G: "The summoning spell for Gachnar can be shut down in one of two ways. Destroying the Mark of Gachnar..."
B: This is Gachnar?
Gachnar: They're all going to abandon you, you know.
B: This is much better. There is no problem that cannot be solved by chocolate.
A: What?
G: Oh, bloody hell, the inscription.
X: Hail, ye olde varlotty... thou.
W: I'm Joan of Arc. I figured, we had a lot in common. Seeing as how I was almost burned at the stake, and plus, she had that close relationship with God.
X:
//Oz pulls back shirt to reveal name badge reading "God".//
X: Of course. I wish I'd thought of that before I put down my deposit. I could've been God.
O: Blasphemer.
W: What are they supposed to be?
O: NATO?
W: You're not a third wheel.
X: Well, technically speaking, you're a fifth wheel.
O: Frat boys aren't too obsessive with their cleaning. Might not be decoration, per se.
X: Ahhh! I wasn't scared. I was in the spirit.
W: And we'll back you up on that. Even if they question us separately.
B: Blood. Real blood.
X: Okay, actual creeps have been given.
O: You're welcome.
G: Where's Buffy and the others?
A: Oh, they're trapped, too. But we've gotta save Xander!
W: Oh, yeah? Well... so's your face.
B: What??
G: We're going to have to create a door.
A: Create a door? You can do that?
G: I can. //vroom!//
X: Gachnar?
B: Our fears are manifesting. We're feeding it. We need to stop.
X: If we close our eyes, and say it's a dream... it'll stab us to death! These things are real.
//Buffy smashes symbol. Looks very proud of herself.//
G: "...is NOT one of them, and will in fact immediately bring forth the fear demon itself!"
X: Big overture. Leetle show.
Gachnar (in a tiny, high-pitched voice): I am the dark lord of nightmares. The bringer of terror! Tremble before me. Fear me!
W: He... he's so cute!
Gachnar: Tremble!
X: Who's the little fear demon? Come on, who's the little fear demon?
G: Don't taunt the fear demon.
X: Why, can he hurt me?
G: No. It's just... tacky.
B: Yeah, yeah.
Gachnar: Wait, wai--
//Smoosh!//
W: I think I'm gonna barf.
B: Except that.
X: That's your scary costume?
A: Bunnies frighten me.
B: What's the matter?
G: I should have translated the Gaelic inscription under the illustration of Gachnar.
B: What's it say?
G: "Actual size."