Gingerbread
B=Buffy, G=Giles, X=Xander, W=Willow, C=Cordelia, O=Oz, A=AngelJ=Joyce, PS=Principal Snyder, S=Sheila Rosenberg, M=Michael, Amy=Amy
J: Is it a vampire?
B: Mom, what are you doing here?
J: I brought you a snack. I thought it was about time for me to come out and watch. You know, the slaying.
B: You know, the Slaying is kind of an alone thing.
J: It's, um, you know, something we could share.
B: Actually, it's pretty dull, you know. It's bam, boom, stick... poof.
J: Good, honey, kill him!
J: It's Mr. Sanderson from the bank. And he's getting away!
B: Stay!
(closed captioning, but no voices heard:
: Uh, there was, uh... Oh, it was, uh, Mrs. Plum, in the library, with a ratchet.
:I--I really--I don't know what else I can tell you. The dead children? No, they didn't speak.
:Okay, well, enjoy your doughnuts.)
B: But I promise, everything's going to be okay.
J: How?
B: Because I'm going to find whatever did it.
J: I guess. It's just, you can't... you can't make it right.
G: Oh, uh, 12th Century, Papal Encyclical.
B: Find me the thing that uses this symbol and point me at it.
G: Hmm.
B: "Hmm" what? Giles, speak.
B: Someone with a soul did this?
G: Yes, I'm afraid so.
B: Okay. then while you're looking for the meaning of that symbol thingy, could you also find a loophole in that "Slayers don't kill people" rule?
O: I haven't seen you all day. Where you been?
X: Not with me. No sir. Ask anyone. No.
X: Why was your mom there?
B: More bad. She picked last night, of all nights, for a surprise bonding visit.
W: God, your mom would actually take the time to do that with you? That really wasn't the point of the story, was it?
J: A cult. Like witches.
W: //coughing// Sorry. Phlegm. Too much dairy.
J: I know you kids think that stuff's cool. Buffy told me you dabble.
W: Right. Absolutely. That's me. I'm a dabbler.
J: Are you embarrassed to be hanging out with your mother? I didn't hug you.
B: No, it's just... this hall is about school, and you're about home. Mix them, my world dissolves.
B: You know what? A lot of times when we're working on stuff like this, we like to keep the number of people that know about it kind of... small.
S: Willow, you cut off your hair. That's a new look.
W: Yeah, it's just a sudden whim I had--in August.
J: Well, it's uh, it's been a while.
G: Right. Not since, uh, not since... not for a while.
S: There's a rumor going around, Mr. Giles.
G: Rumor, about us? About what?
S: People calling themselves witches are responsible for this brutal crime.
G: Indeed? How strange.
W: Ha, ha. Yes. Strange. Witches.
J: Mr. Mayor, you're dead wrong. This is not a good town. How many of us have lost someone who just disappeared? Or, or got skinned? Or suffered a neck rupture?
C: You're going to be one busy little Slayer, baby-sitting them.
B: I doubt they'll have any more trouble.
C: I doubt your doubt. Everyone knows that witches killed those kids, and Amy is a witch. And Michael is whatever the boy of witch is, plus being the poster child for yuch. If you're going to hang with them, expect badness. 'Cause that's what you get when you hang with freaks and losers. Believe me, I know.... That was a pointed comment about me hanging with you guys.
B: Yeah, I got that one.
B: Is Willow around?
X: How can I convince you people that it's over? You assume because I'm here, she's here, that I somehow mysteriously know where she is.
B: Those her books?
X: Yeah, she's in the bathroom.
X: I'm getting sick of the judgement. The innuendoes. Is a man not innocent until proven guilty?
B: You are guilty. You got illicit smoochies, gonna have to pay the price.
X: But I'm talking about the future guilt. Look, everyone expects me to mess up again. Like Oz. I see how he is around me. You know, that steely gaze... that pointed silence.
B: 'Cause he's usually such a chatterbox.
X: No, but it's different now. It's more a verbal nonverbal. He speaks volumes with his eyes.
B: What is this?
W: A doodle. I do doodle. You too. You do doodle, too.
X: Oh, man, it's Nazi Germany, and I've got _Playboys_ in my locker.
PS: This is a glorious day for Principals everywhere. No pathetic whining about students' rights. Just a long row of lockers, and a man with a key.
W: I have stuff in my locker. Henbane, hellebore, mandrake root.
X: Excuse me. Playboys. Can we turn the sympathy this way?
G: They're confiscating my books.
B: Giles, we need those books.
G: Believe me, I tried to tell that to the nice man with the big gun.
G: Ordinarily, I would say let's widen our research.
B: Using what? A dictionary and _My Friend Flicka_?
G: This is intolerable. Snyder has interfered before, but I won't take this from that twisted little homunculus.
PS: I love the smell of desperate librarian in the morning.
G: You get out... and take your marauders with you.
PS: Oh, my. So fierce.
PS: Just how is, um, "Blood Rites and Sacrifices" appropriate material for a public school library? Chess Club branching out?
PS: Just remember, lift a finger against me, and you'll have to answer to MOO.
B: Answer to Moo? Did that sentence just make some sense that I'm not in on?
PS: Mothers Opposed to the Occult. A powerful new group.
B: And who came up with that lame name?
PS: That would be the founder. I believe you call her Mom.
W: Mom, I'm not an age group. I'm me. Willow group.
W: Mom, how would you know what I can do? I mean, the last time we had a conversation over three minutes, it was about the patriarchal bias of the Mister Rogers Show.
S: You're grounded.
W: Grounded? this is the first time _ever_ I've done something you don't like and I'm grounded? I'm supposed to mess up. I'm a teenager, remember?
W: I'm a rebel. I'm having a rebellion.
W: Mom, I'm not acting out, I'm a witch. I can make pencils float. And I can summon the four elements. Okay, two, but four soon. And I'm dating a musician!
S: Oh, Willow!
W: I worship Beelzebub. I do his biddings. Do you see any goats around? No, because I sacrificed them.
W: All bow before Satan!
S: I'm not listening to this.
W: Prince of Night, I summon you! Come fill me with your black, naughty evil.
S: I don't want you hanging out with those friends of yours. It's clear where this little obsession came from. You will not speak to Bunny Summers again.
J: Honey, they opened a few lockers.
B: Lockers. First syllable, lock. they're supposed to be private.
J: Evil pops up, you undo it. And that's great. But is Sunnydale getting any better? Are they running out of vampires?
B: I don't think that you run out of--
B: Okay, maybe I don't have a plan. Lord knows I don't have any lapel buttons.
J: Buffy.
B: And maybe next time that the world is getting sucked into hell, I won't be able to stop it because the anti-hell-sucking book isn't on the approved reading list.
B: And nice acronym, Mom.
B: how are you?
A: I'm all right. I think I'm better than you right now.
A: I heard about this. People are talking. People are even talking to me.
B: My mom said some things to me about being the Slayer. That it's fruitless. No fruit for Buffy.
A: She's wrong.
B: Okay, so I battle evil. But I don't really win. The bad keeps coming back, and getting stronger. I'm like that kid in the story, the boy that stuck his finger in the duck.
A: Dike. //Buffy looks at him// It's another word for dam.
B: Oh. Okay, that story makes a lot more sense now.
A: Buffy, you know I'm still figuring things out -- there's a lot I don't understand. But I do know it's important to keep fighting. And I learned that from you.
B: But we never--
A: We never win.
B: Not completely.
A: We never will. That's not why we fight. We do it because there's things worth fighting for.
G: "Session interrupted"? Who said you could interrupt, you stupid, useless fad! No, I said fad, and I'll say it again.
X: At that point, I will become frightened.
O: Take heart, we found your books.
X: You can put the heart back. We can't get them.
X: "Frisky Watchers Chat Room." Why, Giles!
B: We need to get some information.
G: Yeah, well somebody else do it, this thing's locked me out.
X: Well, if you wouldn't yell at it...
G: There is a fringe theory, held by a few folklorists, that some regional stories have actual, very literal antecedents.
B: And in some language that's English?
O: Fairy tales are real.
X: Wait, Hansel and Gretel? Breadcrumbs, ovens, gingerbread house?
G: Of course. It makes perfect sense.
B: Yeah, it's all falling into place. Of course that place is nowhere near this place.
X: I don't know about you, but I'm gonna go trade my cow for some beans. No one else is seeing the funny here.
B: What happened?
M: I was attacked.
X: Officially not funny.
C: Wake up!
C: I came over here to tell Buffy to stop this craziness, and found you all unconscious -- again. How many times have you been knocked out, anyway? I swear, one of these times, you're going to wake up in a coma.
X: What's with the grim? We're here to join you guys. No, really, why should you guys have all the fun? We want to be part of the hate.
S: Torch.
Amy: All right, you want to fry a witch? I'll give you a witch. Goddess Hecate, work thy will!
W: You've seen what we can do. Another step and you will all feel my power!
G: And, uh, drop a toadstone into the mixture.
B: Mom, dead people are talking to you. Do the math.
C: God, you really were the little youthful offender, weren't you? You must just look back on that and cringe.
C: You like that, huh? How about some more?
B: Cordelia, put out the fire!
C: Okay, I think I liked the two little ones more than the one big one.
Demon: Protect us. Kill the bad girls.
B: Did I get it? Did I get it?
W: Diana, Hecate, I hereby license thee to depart. Goddess of creatures great and small, I conjure thee to withdraw.
G: Cordelia?
C: Took you long enough to wake up. My hand hurts.
G: Pity.
G: Wake up in a...? Oh, never mind. We need to save Buffy from Hansel and Gretel.
C: Now, let's be clear. The brain damage happened before I hit you.
O: Just so we're clear, you guys know you're nuts, right?
J: Thanks. this has been so trying, you've been such a champ.
S: Oh, you too, Joyce.
J: We should stay close, have lunch.
S: Oh, I'd like that. How nice.
B: Uh-oh.
B: What are you gonna do, float a pencil at them?
W: It's a really big power!
B: Yes! You will all be turned into vermin. And some of you will be fish. Yeah, you in the back, will be fish.
Guy: Maybe we should go.
C: This? //sniffs// It doesn't look like a toad.
G: No reason it should. It's from inside the toad.
C: I hate you.
C: Oh, right.
B: You know what? Not as convincing in that outfit.
//crash//
O: We're here to save you.
Amy: //squeak//
B: Maybe we should get her one of those wheel thingies.