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*sarcasm detectors should be on stun
Come on! Last chapter was the big reveal about why Buffy had the outs with her dad!! *laughs* One more to go after this! And then I'll never have a WIP again. COMPLETION. That's my new goal in everything. *throws away Tantric sex book* Previous chapters linked under the cut, and general disclaimer, etc. posted with the first chapter. (And, um, if anyone wanted to get into a discussion about the REAL Silence of the Lambs and it's take on feminism, religion, nationalism, glass ceilings, abortion, etc., I'd freaking love it. Because all of that is addressed in the movie. Um, I do not take on all of that in this fic. Because it's a parody. Also, I am not that clever.)


Silence of the Hams


[SETTING: Later that evening in The Mayor’s cell. He is listening to an old Texaco Theater production and laughing at the squeaky violin played by Jack Benny. He is also sketching, but we don’t see what it is. Trick and Finch are bringing in his supper on a tray.]

Trick: Summbitch wants a second dinner? Thick ham slices on white bread? Green bean casserole? Actually, that sounds kinda good.

(The Mayor is now twirling the forgotten “Branson, Missouri” key ring on one finger while laughing at Rochester on the tape.)

Finch: (hollering out to the prisoner) Okay, sir? Sir? I want you to approach the bars and slide down, hands out behind you, okay?

The Mayor: Righty-o! Give me just one moment here...

(He quickly slips the key in between his fingers, hidden, and complies. Mr. Trick handcuffs the prisoner’s hands outside the bars so he is trapped, then unlocks the cage and passes Finch in the doorway with the tray. The Mayor immediately sets to work using the key to undo his handcuffs. Trick makes to place the tray on top of the table with the sketches - we see it’s the infamous “Draw Me” turtle. It still looks like an armadillo, although a cute armadillo in a turtleneck .)

The Mayor: Hey, hey, hey! I worked very hard on those! Would it kill you to move them aside and then put the tray down? Do I go into your office and slop food on your things? You know, manners are free.

Trick: (jaw dropped) Uh, okay. And do I get a “please?”

The Mayor: (closes eyes, fingers working secretly on the cuff locks, small nod) Thank you. Would you please move the drawings?

Trick: (still with the incredulous tone to his voice) Now, that didn’t hurt, did it? And yes, I will.

(He sets the tray on the floor by The Mayor, rolls up the pictures, sets them aside, then leans back over to pick up the tray. The Mayor swings a newly freed arm around and cuffs Trick’s hand to the bars, Finch screams like a girl and passes out.)

Trick: What the- !

(The Mayor stands, stretches his arms across his chest, kicks Trick’s key ring out of reach, then sits at the table and devours his ham sandwich. He holds a finger up for a moment to indicate he wants to speak, washes the last bites down with his milk.)

The Mayor: See, I could kill you. Heck, I could eat you, really. But I like you. You’ve got style, you’ve got smarts. (Laughs) Gosh, I had this whole plan to slice the skin off your belly, exposing your guts like a Death’s Head moth - saw one once in National Geographic, crazy looking things. (Shudders) Then, I was going to open your back, split your ribs, pull your lungs out and hang you in an American Flag up there (points up to the top of the cage) and have a whole religion versus nationalism thing, with Renaissance imagery to show how far we haven’t gone as a society, but that just seems like a lot of work, you know? And honestly, my heart’s not in it. But. Plus side: you get to live, and I’ll just walk out of here, okay?

Trick: (eyes widening with every passing word of his potential torture) Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay. Cool with me. That whole “not killing” thing, in case I wasn’t being clear.

The Mayor: (hands in pockets, leaning forward and looking at the toes of his shoes) You sure? Stylistically, it would look pretty great... Nah. I want to get out of here, have a slice of pie, maybe see a show. Okay, then. Someone should find you in a while, okay? You were real nice. Thanks.

Trick: N-n-no problem.

(Whistling softly, The Mayor steps over the unconscious body of Allen Finch - still in a faint, and heads to the doorway, out to the hallway of the high school he’s been kept in. He walks out the front door without a hitch, down the steps and strolls across the lawn towards the town square.)

The Mayor: Now, honestly. There should have been at least a police officer or someone there. (Shrugs, and walks out of view)

[CUT TO: Watcher’s Academy, Willow - still with those corn-rows, someone should really help her get those out - running hell-bent for leather to Buffy’s room.]

[CUT TO: Buffy, in a robe, hair wet, biting her nail. She bites off the hang nail, and goes back to painting her toe nails]

Willow: Okay, the whole running for my life thing was supposed to indicate a heightened sense of tension? What’s with the “I’m Not Really A Waitress” on the toes? Where’s the fear and the best friend snuggles of assurance? (She pouts and holds her arms out, puppy eyes in full effect.)

Buffy: (sighing, putting away her polish) Look. He’s not coming here.

Willow: Y-you don’t know that! How can you say that! He’s not?

Buffy: No. (Points to sign outside of their open bedroom door on the wall that reads “Girl’s Dormitory”.) He’s all Andy Griffith. He wouldn’t come in here. The suck is that now I don’t get to ask him any more questions. That girl is as good as ruined.

Willow: The Mayor said everything you need was in that case file.

Buffy: No, he said he wrote the answer for me next to a Beetle Bailey doodle, and then laughed and said... it... was... (Looks up with shock) You don’t think?

(Buffy and Willow scramble to grab the case file from the edge of the bed and flip hurriedly through the pages until they spot-)

Buffy: Beetle friggin’ Bailey. Oh, he has nice handwriting!

Willow: (warning) Focus? Please?

Buffy: Okay. (Reads) “Hey, Kitten. I couldn’t resist. Well, shucks, you worked so hard, and I bet you’d figure it out anyway. I just couldn’t stand the thought of not giving you the final nudge. Alright, fair warning if you want to stop now and be noble, although I wouldn’t advise it...

His name is William, also known as Spike. Spike McGillicutty. I know, it’s not conventional, but our Killer isn’t a conventional kind of fella, is he? He lives on 1453 Broad Street. Now go get your man, ya little go-get-em! Sincerely, Mayor Richard Wilkins III.”

Willow: (shocked) Hot damn, Buffy!

Buffy: He knew him! And McGillicutty? Lame.

~TBC RIght here! Final chapter of this EPIC SAGA.

Short, but action-packed! Besides, that's a natural ending because all of the rest needs to go together. NEEDS TO. zomg, so seriuz.


( 13 comments — Leave a comment )
(Deleted comment)
Jan. 13th, 2006 07:02 am (UTC)
Well, The Mayor had a clean uniform on, and that arterial spray is hard to wash out, you know? Plus, he's got a bus to catch if he's going to make the fireworks in Branson and- Oops! I'm giving away the ending. :D

(Man, I'll do that today. It'll just be the two of us, but man, I have all of this stuff bouncing in my head from re-reading the screenplay, watching the movie and skimming through the book for plot bits. Can you tell I love this movie? It's brilliant. Hmm. Maybe I still have the 2000 word essay I wrote on it for a film class... I AM A DORK.)
(Deleted comment)
Jan. 13th, 2006 07:51 am (UTC)
Oooh! (which fic?)

And I'm off for my run, to mull over what to say to you and then type. I am TYPE-Y today. Full of chatter. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

And I seriously love that icon.
(Deleted comment)
Jan. 13th, 2006 09:06 am (UTC)
Hmm. I've re-read all of the fics on Circe Tigana's website - excellent and achey and dreamy writing style. And I'll check out that rec of yours, because fun fic is a rarity lately!
Jan. 13th, 2006 07:53 am (UTC)
That's great, Stoney. I had to read it all to catch up...but very very good. :D I friended you btw...wouldn't say I'm much for the funny, am more of a lurker and you're posts always leave me cryin with laughter...that and your funny eyebrow wigglin giraffe icon...LOL LMAO... :D
Jan. 13th, 2006 07:57 am (UTC)
Aw, thanks! And it's a come and go as you please journal. If you feel the need to tighten up your reading list, knock me off without worries, k?

*cough* And this is the least popular of my parodies, all of which are in my memories, should you need to see what to expect here. :D
Jan. 13th, 2006 08:19 am (UTC)
That's why I friended you! Of course...HI-lariously funny and I have to finish reading all ofyour bad!fic posts...which is great stuff btw...ROFLMAO!!!!Out of curiousity, I cruised on over to FF.Net(aka the Pit of Voles...lol)and hence the badness...lol...the place where all bad!fic go to die...

See ya!
Jan. 13th, 2006 09:24 am (UTC)
The Mayor is SO one of my favourite fictional characters ever.
Jan. 13th, 2006 10:50 am (UTC)
ME. TOO. One of the best villains ever, and certainly on television.
Jan. 13th, 2006 11:18 am (UTC)
I can't believe that this wasn't popular, what cretins read your journal? *Looks up at mirror over bed* Oh...nevermind...SotL is one of the classic horror/suspense/crossdressing movies, loved by policemen, weirdos, and psych students everywhere...also loved by Lector!fans and those just lusting after Jodie Foster...so there, I say!
*pouts* I thought you were writing this for me and you...? Faithless evil witch, sharing OUR fic with someone else....I am crushed, you hear, crushed! I will never get over your betrayal...although I will lurk and read your fic anyway...
Lol, love your *Mayor* voice...so perfect, so sublime...So much like Richard Wilkins III...hey probably 'cause that's who it is...btw, where is Faith in all this? we need a few five by fives and damage bound, don't we?
And really, Willow in cornrows? Doesn't she realize how much that damages her hair?
LOL...waiting patiently for the next installment, and don't take any of the above seriously (except for maybe the jodie foster crush thing)...love your writing, lurves you, don't evah change...okay, maybe your clothes, good thing this is a virtual journal...lol....
Jan. 13th, 2006 11:22 am (UTC)
I looooooove Jodie Foster. She is my hero. (I have... okay, so I'm writing this for like, three other people. COME ON.)

Oh, and I've posted my thoughts on the movie, should you not be SICK OF ME YET. (I mean, *I'm* sick of me. Ha!)
Jan. 13th, 2006 07:30 pm (UTC)
And I read and commented on that particular analysis too...there were insights into the movie that I have never noticed, until I sat and thought about it...will share with my partner and co-Lamb lover, Sandy, (not in the sheepherding kind of way is we lamb lovers, either...get your mind out of that filthy gutter young lady!) and putting the darn thing in my memories as well...for brilliant insight and analysis!
Jan. 13th, 2006 07:27 pm (UTC)
BTW, pimping you in my LJ so others will realize the pure genius that is stoney321...*glomps* you seriously....Lurves this fic!
(Deleted comment)
Jan. 14th, 2006 11:40 am (UTC)
I PUT THAT POLISH IN THERE FOR YOU. You should know that, if you didn't suspect it already.

Kinki in Helsinki? Will look into. I am woefully under-knowledged in girly products of a polish nature.
( 13 comments — Leave a comment )


Are You Actually

Reading this? I'm just curious. Because that's really detail-oriented of you. Feel free to stop reading. But you can see that there's more here, so are you going to keep reading? Really? That's pretty dedicated. I'm impressed. No, really. I'm not being sarcastic, why do you get like that? See, this is the problem I have with your mother - yes. YES. I'm going there. It's time we put all of our cards on the table.

I love you, why are you doing this? After all we've been through? You don't have to be like this. You know, still reading. You could be baking a pie. And then sharing it with me.

Time Wot It Is

April 2017
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