Ha! And just think, you started out as a foofy thankyou for deathbombs.
Soon, soon, there will be Frank Pembleton eating of the Band Candy, and turning into - oh, man, I think my head just exploded.
I can't wait.
Dawn ,'Storyteller'
Where the Buffistas let their fanfic creative juices flow. May contain erotica.
Ha! And just think, you started out as a foofy thankyou for deathbombs.
Soon, soon, there will be Frank Pembleton eating of the Band Candy, and turning into - oh, man, I think my head just exploded.
I can't wait.
I really don't know. And I'm not taunting or being coy...he probably is the most difficult to picture.
Damn. Question. Brain draining like soap suds.
Sunnydale University? University of Sunnydale? Sunnydale College? University of California at Sunnydale?
Where in hell did they matriculate? And under which frat house was the Initiative located?
I'm beginning to percolate the Fourth Thing that should have happened.
UC-Sunnydale, Deb.
Sunnydale University? University of Sunnydale? Sunnydale College? University of California at Sunnydale?
They called it UC Sunnydale.
Whoo-hoo! The Fourth Thing is not for lovers of the Enormous Hall Monitor, I'm afraid. I don't dislike him as much as a lot of people I know disliked him, but I do have a set idea of where his presence in town should have been cut off.
(laughing some at Deb getting mysterious phone call from someone in "waste management." "That asshole's caused his last hammertoe. It's done. Click."
"Yo! Carmela!"
I think Adrianna would kill me. She lives in Jimmy Choos. Maybe have to take out Manolo Blahnik instead, for all those seasons of clunky ugly shoes with Oliver Twist workhouse heels, if for nothing else.
OK. Party. Leaving in twenty minutes or so, still in jeans.
"Why is our living room covered in shoes?"
"I thought you might want first pick...they're the last ones."
"What did you do?"
"That particular gentleman is not up to the challenge of creating footwear...that's it."
"Adriana's never going to speak to us again. I hope you're satisfied. And I won't be able to hold my head up in Montclair, either."
COMM! You're it.
Off to get dressed. Damn. I'm late.