Laura Stone (stoney321) wrote,
Laura Stone

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Aaaaaand here's another one.

I want to preface all of this with the following: this has been one of the worst weeks of my life. Don't want to go into details, but I will say that sneaking onto LJ lately has been the bright spot in a horrid week. If I've been snippy, just throw your feces at me, you little monkeys. Commented back and forth with my new pal _beetle_ and decided to start another parody fic, instead of playing grown-up and solving the world's problems. Or my house's current batch.

So here we go, with a clever title *snerk* and this one is probably PG-13 at most. We'll see... Love you guys. Seriously.

Author: Stoney321
Title: Silence of the Hams
Rating: PG-13?
Spoilers: Season 3 of BtVS, the whole movie of SotL
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either Buffy and its characters/words, nor Silence of the Lambs, screenplay by Ted Talley. This is for fun and not a dime in the mix. No nickles, either.
Summary: Smooshed the characters from BtVS into the roles of Silence of the Lambs. I'm broken inside.
Silence of the Hams

Cast of Characters:
Clarice Starling - Buffy Summers
Dr. Hannibal Lecter - The Mayor
Jack Crawford - Rupert Giles
Jame Gumb - To Be Revealed Later
Dr. Fredric Chilton - Principal Snyder
Catherine Martin - Cordelia Chase
Sergeant Boyle - Faith
Frederica Bimmel - Harmony Kendall
Senator Martin - Wesley Wyndam-Pryce
Nerds from the Smithsonian - Jonathon/ Andrew
Ardelia - Willow Rosenberg
Barney the Orderly - Xander Harris
Multiple Miggs - Angel/Angelus

Part One

[Scene opens on an obstacle course. Buffy Summers, a young upstart with the Watcher's Council, is running the timed course. She runs up a sharply angled treadmill, which is moving against her, reaches the platform only to traverse a padded log. Unnamed council members are swinging weighted bags at her in an attempt to knock her off. She makes it after a few narrow escapes and has to eat 7 crackers and whistle. From here Buffy has to swing from a brightly colored rope over two inches of water, then run across a finish line with a balloon held between her knees.]

Nitro: (clicking on his stop watch) Two minutes. Unbelievable.

Ice: (Slapping Buffy on the ass) Good job. Now run inside. Department head wants to meet with you.

(Buffy runs inside past the Gladiator set to the stuffy offices of the Watcher's Council.)

[CUT TO: Interior of Rupert Giles office. There are pictures of vampires standing over bloody corpses. Fortunately they are drawings - and not very good ones - so we can maintain our PG-13 rating.]

Buffy: (knocking) You asked to see me, Sir?

Giles: Yes. Please come in, Miss Summers. I see you handled the obstacle course and "Hanging Tough" well for a girl your size. I have a job for you.

Buffy: Cool. But- I'm still training.

Giles: (sighs) Yes, I know that, but I cannot spare a single agent on something so trivial. I am working on a profile of our more psychotic demons that we’ve captured, and this particular one is giving us more than a bit of grief. Do you spook easily, Miss Summers?

Buffy: Nah, I internalize everything and it just makes me tougher.

Giles: Excellent. I want you to go to the asylum and interview The Mayor.

Buffy: (whispers to herself with reverence) The Windbag...

Giles: Precisely. He likes to give advice and toss out a lot of platitudes, but he doesn't tell us much about who he is and why he is the way he is. If ever a way there was. I don't expect him to talk to you, but I have to exhaust all my options.

(Hands Buffy a file folder)

Giles: Here is all that we have on him. There is a questionnaire for you to fill out. Be as precise in your questions as you can. If he doesn't speak to you outside of advising you on healthy teeth and bones, then just straight reporting: how does he look, how does his cell look? Does he still think of me? Is he wearing the locket I gave him all those years ago? I expect your report to be on my desk at 1300 hours tomorrow.

(Buffy looks at him quizzically)

Giles: Good heavens. Subtract 1200 and then- . Oh, never mind. One o'clock, understand?

Buffy: Gotcha. What up? Why did? Do you still? Check, check and check.

Giles: Now I want your full attention, Buffy. This man is incredibly benign on the outside and may drive you nuts with his old fashioned charm. But he is a killer. And a germaphobe, so don't touch anything without him seeing you use a wipey. Dr. Snyder will inform you of any other rules that may apply.

[CUT TO: Inside of the asylum, Dr. Snyder's office. Snyder is a short, balding man with square, yellowed teeth. He smells of urine. He looks pissy, so it's natural he would smell pissy. He is instructing Buffy on hospital procedure]

Snyder: It's so rare to have one alive.

Buffy: I'm sorry?

Snyder: Armadillos. It's rare to see one alive.

Buffy: Were we... talking about armadillos?

Snyder: No. I wanted to make sure you knew what we were dealing with.

Buffy: Small animals that roll up into a ball and are nocturnal?

Snyder: NO! That is the kind of attitude that is going to get a person expelled from this facility. Follow me. I want to get this over with quickly. I don't have all day to sit and discuss defense tactics with you.

(They begin to walk down a long hallway through a series of heavy iron doors)

Snyder: The Mayor ate and devoured an entire box of enormous scarab beetles. (Snyder pulls out a picture - we do not see it - and shows it to Buffy. Her face remains passive.)

Snyder: That doesn't gross you out? An entire box of bugs? With their nasty, crunchy outer skeletons? Wiggly legs? The whole time he ate them he tapped his toes in tune to the song, Mairzy Doats. He's a sick, sick man. We've tried to study him of course, but he's far too wily for our tests. He thinks of me as his nemesis, you know.

Buffy: (snickers and catches herself, turning it into a fake sneeze.) -Choo!

Snyder: (with a sneer) Go in here. Xander will be watching you the whole time.

(They have approached the final series of iron gates. Xander is a large, long-armed man who is in charge of who goes in and out of this detention wing. He looks affable, but could use a hair cut.)

Snyder: Interesting that Rupert would send you. Small, bony... You look petulant. Just the type The Mayor will try and win over. He wants a daughter-figure, you know.

Buffy: Riiiight.

Snyder: These are the rules: do not pass anything to him that has any sharp objects. No paper-clips, staples, knives, or those 4-ink click-pens.

Buffy: Why can't he have a 4-ink click pen? They're fun.

Snyder: Precisely. Do not accept anything he passes to you. Stay back from the glass and don't touch it. It's a pain to try and Windex™ that whole thing clean with him mocking you through the glass.

Buffy: I understand. Um, since he sees you as his arch-nemesis, maybe it would be better if I spoke with him alone?

Snyder: (whines) You made me walk all the way down here? Fine. Have it your way.

(With a huff, he spins on his teeny little shoe and heads back to his office leaving Miss Summers alone with Xander.)

Xander: Hi, I'm Xander. He told you not to touch the glass?

Buffy: (small smile) Yep. Got the whole bullet-points presentation.

Xander: Alright then. (Points to security camera monitor) I'll be watching you, okay? Stay to the right. When you walk down there, you'll see all the cells are on the left. So, duh. But, it bears repeating. He's in the last cell, and the most disturbing and foul patients are before him. Should be a chuckle. The chuckle that isn't a chuckle, you know? I put out a chair for you. You'll do fine.

(Buffy smiles at the nice orderly and makes her way through the gate. A Klaxon bell rings loudly and red lights pulse wildly.)

Xander: Oops! Wrong button. I meant to hit the "mood lighting." (Hits a switch) There you go.

(The lights are muted and soft, which makes the detention wing for the criminally insane more romantic than it already is. Cavern... passionately disturbed men... chains... Sound like anyone's kink? Buffy hugs the right wall and sees the inmates in their cells from the corner of her eye. She passes the next to last one and hears a raspy, seldom-used voice hiss out to her.)

Angel/Angelus: I can smell your cunt.

Buffy: Ewww! Can not!

Angel/Angelus: Can, too!

Buffy: Can SO not! I totally use the best in organic personal hygiene care. Baring that, I shove an entire vanilla bean up my nani to make everything smell tip-top. Makes all of me smell vanilla scented, so CAN. NOT.

(Buffy walks to the final cell and sits down in the chair Xander provided. She arranges her face under the cover of her blonde hair, then looks up, prepared. The Mayor is standing stock still, arms behind his back, and is wearing a clown wig and false red nose. Buffy tries to hide the shock on her face.)

The Mayor: Too much? Gosh, I just couldn't stand the thought of you coming all the way down into this dark place without a tiny giggle. (Laughs) You kids with your seriousness. Don't know how to live a little... Now, how are you, pumpkin? Did that nasty fella next door say something distasteful to you?

Buffy: I-it's fine. It's nothing. I can handle it.

The Mayor: Now, now, no need to feel embarrassed. After all, it wasn't YOU that used such language. I won't have anyone speaking to a guest, especially not a lady guest, in that manner. What was it that he said?

Buffy: Um... He said he could smell my cunt. But it's totally good smelling, like fresh baked cookies or a milkshake.

The Mayor: (blinks several times) I like fresh baked cookies. And milkshakes. I don't think I'll be able to eat one for a very long time.

Buffy: I'd like to... We'd like to talk to you.

The Mayor: Oh, you must be one of Rupert Giles' kids! Funny story, I killed and ate his last girlfriend. Well, funny to me, certainly not funny to him, but go on. You were saying?

Buffy: Uh-. (shakes head to clear it) I want you to check the boxes on-

The Mayor: No, no, no. That won't do. Gosh, you were doing such a terrific job at making me feel like I wasn't in this box (smiles, shakes head with chagrin) and now you just want to jump into telling me what to do? Not very Watcher's Council of you. Come to think of it, yes it is. Continue. Please.

Buffy: As I was sayi-

The Mayor: You know, sorry to interrupt, but you know I wonder why Giles had to send a rookie to me. Probably has every agent off working the JC Penny's Killer case, huh? How many girls has he attacked now, five? Six? Slippery one... You know, I get the Reader's Digest every week, but they don't have the reason behind the name. They DO have Family Circus, and I tell you... Scamps. Every last one of them. (Laughs, then is serious.) Tell me. Why that name?

Buffy: It... it started as a joke in the retrieval department. He steals their clothes after giving them horrible make-overs. But- the clothes... They are all knock offs and cheap. Pieces of the clothes are found. He does... horrible things to them.

The Mayor: (laughing) Sounds like a real nut-job! Not a very fun thing to read about... Tell me why YOU think he does it. Show me how smart you are, Kitten.

Buffy: He... It excites him. Most criminals like him like to have trophies.

The Mayor: You are so ambitious, aren't you? Ya little climber. I know the type, with your bottle-blonde hair and your stylish, yet affordable clothes. Working with the Watcher's Council may have given you strength, and skill, but you aren't more than one generation from your mother. Ha! Fooled you. Now run along. "Wheel of Fortune" is coming on, and I don't want to miss it. It's college week! Run along now, Princess.

Buffy: But the questionnaire-

The Mayor: I hate filling in those little bubble things. I remember back in the day before those pesky scan-trons. I gave a stern talking-to to the proctor of the test I was sitting for. Gosh, anyone could make a mistake grading those blue notebooks... Believe you me, he knew my stance on test taking after that day. Now, you scoot along. Be sure to wash your hands!

(Frustrated, and with tears stinging her eyes, Buffy runs down the hall to the gate. She passes Angel/Angelus' cell where a *thwackthwackthwack* noise can be heard)

Angel/Angelus: I grew up centuries ago on a large farm. This is how we blew our noses!

(He holds one nostril closed and blows hard out of the other. A large wad of mucus splats on Buffy's cheek. Horrified, she reaches up with a shaking hand, trying to keep the tears at bay)

The Mayor: Miss Summers! Buffy!

(Buffy runs back to his cell)

The Mayor: I'm terribly sorry about that. Must be absolutely disgusting. Some people just have no manners whatsoever. And the thing is, I KNOW he has tissues...Go ahead and hand me that questionnaire.

(Buffy slides it through the mail slot. She hears a *plop* as something small and rectangular falls to the ground on her side.)

The Mayor: It's called a wet-nap. Genius, really. Now go clean yourself up. That's really starting to make me sick.

(Buffy turns to leave)

The Mayor: Oh, I forgot one more thing. Go to the third stall in the ladies restroom at the downtown Wal-Mart. You'll find some clues to help you with the JC Penny's Killer. I want you to find it and not waste anytime figuring out an anagram, or hidden message, or some such. Hurry along now! Don't forget to brush! (His voice rises as Buffy runs down the hall) Twice daily, and hopefully between snacks!

TBC and that happens here

Next stop on the fun train: Friday I'm taking a break from my life and getting drunk and hanging with crazydiamondsue and uberaeryn!! Woot!
Tags: fic, funny fic, parody fic, the mayor

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