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Chapter 19 – Weapons of Mass Destruction



Slook sat at the spa’s front reception desk, fussing with the appointment book, and watched through the glass doors as two gentlemen unloaded dozens of white cardboard boxes onto hand trucks and wheeled them into the building.

“Would you gentlemen care for a complementary avocado and citrus facial peel today?” Slook said. Slook had abandoned her post with Glory after the latest ear-slapping incident. She was beginning to wonder if serving a Hellgod was really the wisest career move she could make. Becoming a Professional Nail Technician would be more fun, especially if handsome men like these two came in all the time. Certainly there would be fewer bruises and scratches.

“Perhaps another time,” the older, more distinguished man said. “We’d like to speak to the proprietor. We have a delivery.” He indicated the stacks of white boxes.

“I can sign for those if you like,” Slook said. She picked up the silver gel pen left by the Jennifer, the receptionist, who Glory had brainsucked for lunch. Slook was not certain the brain sucking did any appreciable damage to Jennifer’s brain, which made her confident she could handle Jennifer’s job.

The younger man picked up the top box on his hand truck, opened it and took out a large whipped cream pie. “Get your boss out here or I’ll have to use this.”

“You wouldn’t!” Slook said. Taking no chance, she ran out of the room screaming for Jinx.



Buffy climbed up the scaly palm tree, with Buffybot right behind her. Buffybot had been talking herself in circles since she got out of the car. Buffy might have to test out her new sword on the Buffybot’s neck if she didn’t shut up soon.

“Spike is Evil and I kill Evil and my duty is to be nice to Spike and my duty is to kill Evil. Really Real Buffy can I ask you a question?”

“Sure. I’ve got nothing else to do.” Buffy reached the second-story gutter, put her foot over the edge and heaved herself up on the glass roof.

“When I went to see Guy-iles at 0507 Pacific Time, he told me we all must do our duty, even if our duty turns out differently from our original intentions or plans. He told me to think about what he said.” Buffybot climbed higher on the palm tree and the trunk swayed. “I thought about what Guy-iles said and I decided my duty was to Be Nice to Spike, which is very pleasant.”

“I just bet.” Buffy edged forward onto the glass roof. She wasn’t going to fall through the glass like she did that time at the abandoned fraternity house.

“But Spike is Evil and I Kill Evil. I do not know what to do because I would rather do my duty and be nice to Spike.” Buffybot edged closer to the top of the tree which bent under the combined weight of the Buffybot and the troll hammer she was gripping in her hand. “Besides, I love Spike and I don’t want to kill him, even if he is Evil, and I don’t really know if he was Evil, I only know you said he was Evil and there isn’t any proof that he is Evil and I want to believe you because you’re the Really Real Buffy, but if I believe you, then I’ll have to kill Spike and I don’t want to kill Spike. Really.”

Buffy flattened herself out on the glass roof and stretched out Caladcholg. She could almost touch the red bobber doohickey thing which was sucking energy out of the sky. If she could knock the red thing off, she could probably stop the dimensions from opening, rescue Dawn, save the world and exterminate Glory – and Spike – at her leisure. Then, something Buffybot said pierced her consciousness. “What did you just say?”

“When I went to see Guy-iles at 0507 Pacific Time, he told me we all must do our duty, even if our duty turns out differently from our original intentions –.”

“No, later. ‘I only know you said he was Evil’ – after that.” She shimmied out a little further on the glass. She reached as far as she could and scraped the red thingie with the point of her sword.

“You said Spike was Evil and there isn’t any proof he is Evil and I want to believe you because you’re the Really Real Buffy, but if I believe you, then I’ll have to kill Spike --.”

“Stop!” Proof. She had no proof. Wait. She did have proof. “The mirrors. Willow said she saw Spike in the mirror at the Thank Heaven Convenience Food Mart, which she couldn’t have because Spike doesn’t have a reflection.”

“Well, duh,” Buffybot said.

“Which means Spike didn’t rob his own cousin, Wedgie Chalk. Which means I really don’t know -- .” She swung her arm back and hacked at the red throbbing light.

As Buffy’s sword began its cutting slash, Buffybot reached the thin spine at the top of the palm tree which snapped off and sent Buffybot and Buffy crashing through the glass ceiling of the spa’s solarium.




Xander hefted the first pie in his hand. “You sure this is going to work?”

Giles arranged several pies – coconut cream, lemon, key lime, banana and chocolate rum - on the receptionist’s desk. “The Cambridge Companion of Demonology states categorically that cream pies are lethally toxic to all poonlarp demons.”

Three poonlarps, Jinx, Dreg and Murk, ran into the reception room followed by eleven more poonlarps -- Burp, Slurp, Droop, Crank, Kink, Mange, Krust, Skink, Frag, Gronx, Jr. and Nook. Gronx, Jr. and Nook were younger and, therefore, scabbier, demons.

“Here’s pie in your eye,” Xander said. He threw the first pie – maple persimmon custard - at Gronx, Jr. It landed square in Gronx, Jr.’s face.

Gronx, Sr., who ran in late, yelled. “Don’t eat it, Junior!”

Gronx, Jr. wiped a big gob of tasty whipped cream off his face and shoved it in his mouth. He continued to eat hunks of pie with no seeming bad effects.

“Great,” Xander said. “Did the Cambridge Companion mention we’d have to wait for them to die of high cholesterol?”



Dawn lifted another ceramic planter over her head. “Spike,” Dawn said. “What. Have. You. Done?”

Spike inched closer to Dawn with his hands raised, hoping to intercept that sodding big pot before she crushed his skull with it. “It’s not like you think, Platelet. I had that bugger Warren make up an extra Dawn so --”

She tossed the planter. “So you could have sex with it. You’re like a child molester. A gross gross child molester person.”

Spike had a flash of the first time he’d seen Buffy, sixteen years old and hot as hell. Nope, no childlike attributes there, not to mention he’d only wanted to kill her until she was eighteen. He ducked and the planter crashed on the floor. “Nibblet, let me explain.”

“Totally, immensely and disgustingly gross and I can’t wait until Buffy stakes you so I can laugh. Hah! Hah! Hah!”

A giant crash and the sound of a shower of splintering glass came from the solarium.

“You won’t have to wait long,” he said. “She’s here.”

Glory waved her hands at her remaining minions who dragged Spike and the two Dawns into the locker room.



Buffy and Buffybot waded out of the reflecting pool and shook glass out of their hair.

“I am wet,” Buffybot said. She wiped water off her pink leather skirt, which Buffy said was new.

“You are a moron,” Buffy said. She looked up at the formerly glassed in ceiling. “Damn. The red thingamabobby is still up there.” The ruby glowed and throbbed with light as a ray of the sun touched its eastern edge.

Further discussion was cut off by the arrival of Glory’s second squad of poonlarp demons. The oldest, Crud, drew a rusty sword and ran towards Buffy. She sliced Crud’s head off with Caladcholg. The sword gleamed with fierce white light and threw off rainbow arcs as it separated the demon’s head from his shoulders. She grabbed Scrot in a head lock and threatened to poke his eye out with the tip of her sword.

“Where is she?”

Scrot, not the bravest or boldest of the poonlarp team, capitulated. “Her Cursed Curmudgeonliness is having a whirlpool bath and a massage. Perhaps you could come back later.”

Buffy sliced off his greasy pony tail. “Not that skank. Where’s my sister?”

Before Scrot could answer, a herd of poonlarp minions attacked Buffy and the Buffybot. The minions circled them, waving steaming hot towels and tossing massage stones which they threw with very little accuracy. Buffy and Buffybot fought back to back, kicking and scratching, which the demons hated. Buffy swung Caladcholg in deadly rainbow arcs, slashing and whacking off demon heads in a circle of death. She swung too wide and took out a couple of columns that were supporting the roof of the south wing.

Buffybot slugged demons on their heads and toes with her weighty troll hammer causing much screaming and gnashing of teeth. Buffybot grasped Buffy’s hand, gave Buffy a tremendous flying spin and launched her into a pack of demons. Buffy sliced off heads – right, left and center, stomped a couple of knees and skewered three plump demons at once on her sword, which erupted into white hot flames. Together, the Buffies cleared the solarium area.



Giles whipped pies into the faces of Burp, Slurp and Droop. “Don’t witter about, Xander. Throw those damn pies!” He threw another pie at Jinx, who ducked, causing the pie to smack into the face of Dreg, who was standing behind him.

Dreg, between pushing gobs of pie in his mouth, picked up one of the pies off the desk and slapped it into Giles’ face.

Giles picked up two pies, one in each hand and slammed them together onto Dreg’s face.

“Hey,” Xander said. “A cluster pie.”

Murk, Crank, Kink, Mange, Krust, Skink, Frag and Nook grabbed boxes off Xander’s hand truck and tossed pies wildly at Xander and Giles and at each other.

Xander ran out of pies first. “Somebody, give me a pie!”

Mange, Lunk and Skink all threw pies into Xander’s face. While they were reloading, Murk and Crank threw more pies at Xander. Xander ducked and Kink and Nook were taken out by friendly fire. Giles tossed Xander a pie and he took out Krust with an overhand slam.

A few minutes later all the pies had been fired and all the poonlarps were rolling on the floor licking pie off themselves, each other and the floor.

‘This is just disgusting,” Xander said.



The two Buffies ran to help Xander and Giles in the reception room, who were standing around eating slices of raspberry mocha pie and watching a purse of poonlarps wallow in whipped cream on the floor. Buffy dispatched three more demons, who were decorated with lemon cream and waved Willow and Tara in the front door as the demon heads rolled to the reflecting pool and plopped into the water.

Buffybot picked up a key lime pie and smashed it on the head of Molt, the High Poonlarp Priest, who had come to see what the ruckus was about.

“That'll put marzipan in your pie plate, bingo!” Buffybot said.

“That was stupid,” Buffy said.



While Buffy continued exterminating the remaining demons and getting pie goop on her fashionable outfit, Buffybot searched the building for Spike and Dawn. She walked through the aromatherapy room and the massage rooms, the whirlpool room and the locker room, where she located Glory, one poonlarp demon, Spike and Two Dawns.

She looked at Dawn. “You are the Key and Buffy’s sister.” She looked at the second Dawn. “You are the Key and Buffy’s sister.” Her brain whirred in a tight cramping spiral. “You are the Key and you are the Key and you are the Sister and you are the Sister and Buffy is the Buffy and I am the Buffy, but I’ll never be exactly and I know the only really real Buffy is really Buffy and she's --”

“Knock it off, Bot,” Spike said. “You’ve got to help me get Dawn out of here before Glory starts slashing and cutting.”

Buffybot looked at the Two Dawns. “Which one?”

Glory sat on a bench in the locker room and examined her nails. She’d chipped another one when she jabbed her fingers into the massage girl’s skull. After the ceremony was over, she’d have to eviscerate Slook. As she was thinking this cheerful thought, she morphed into Ben.

Dank, the only poonlarp to avoid the wholesale pie slaughter in the reception area, held out Glory’s official red velvet ceremonial robe with the gold soutache braid. “Would you care to put on the robe at this time, Ben?”

“No, no, no,” Ben said. “I am not dressing up in any more of Glory’s clothes.”

Spike smirked. “Don’t know why. You look pretty good in that pink fluffy thing.” Spike flicked his fingers back and forth to indicate the pink towel sarong Ben was wearing.

“But, it’s time for the ceremony,” Dank said. “Don’t you want your sister to look fantabulous when she opens the dimensions and returns on a gale of cosmic wind to her home dimension?”

“I am not a cross dresser, and no, I don’t give a damn what Glory looks like. She isn’t going anywhere.” He tucked the sarong tighter, hitched it over his manly thighs and approached the two Dawns. “Okay, which one of you is the Key?”

The two Dawns folded their arms over their chests and tossed their heads in unison. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” they said.

Ben grabbed the hair of the first Dawn, who punched him in the face.



A black, Cadillac stretch limo arrived at the front of the spa. Manuel, the valet parker, who was hoping for some large tips, given the stormy weather and the noisy screams coming from the building, opened the back door and assisted an elderly man, with black eyes and a long, grey-green tail twitching out of his black wool duster, out of the car.



Willow and Tara, after plucking three demon heads out of the reflecting pool, drew their magic circle around the pool using a red Sharpie.

“This is perfect,” Willow said. “We can use the water to bounce the spell off and increase the power of the spell exponentially by at least a factor of twelve.”

Tara looked doubtful. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“What could go wrong?” Willow said.

Tara opened her mouth to answer, then closed her mouth without saying anything and set up and lit candles at five points along the circle and drew a small pentagram around each candle.

Willow tossed a handful of vercacesasium seeds into the pool and touched the red sharpie circle. “Propinquus Orbis.” The circle blazed into light.