Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Dark Horse Comics, Inc.

Based on the television character created by: Joss Whedon

Written by: Andi Watson

Penciled by: Joe Bennett

Inked by: Rick Ketcham

Lettered by: Janice Chiang

Colored by: Guy Major

Transcript by: The Crying Freeman

The characters of that comics are the exclusive property of Joss Whedon. The story transcribed here, is the legal property of Dark Horse Comics Inc., and of Scott Allie the editor. This work is only a presentation of the dialogue and a narration of the action as displayed in this comic book. This work is for information only, no money can be made out of it. If you sell, or ask a payment for it, it is a violation of copy right laws.

It’s the night in Sunnydale. Everything is quiet outside of the Summers’ house. Inside, Buffy, is having nightmares. She still sleeps, but is agitated. Suddenly noise coming from outside wake her up. She looks by her window and sees that the trash cans have been spilled. Cut, to the kitchen the next morning. Joyce prepared her daughter’s breakfast, while Buffy went outside to clean up the garbage. Buffy is coming back, and Joyce is now on her way to leave.

Buffy: Mom, did you take my Halloween costume out of the garbage?

Joyce: No, Honey. I told you to trash that awful outfit in the first place. The fake blood refused to wash out.

Buffy: Oh yeah, *Sheesh*, that fake blood.

Joyce: (searching her bag) What have you done to my keys?

Buffy: Have you tried by the cookie jar?

Joyce: No. *Um* (looking at the place Buffy told her) Oh yes, here they are. So you are sure you’ll be fine being home alone tonight? This trip will only take one day. I’ll be back in time to make thanksgiving dinner.

Buffy: Mom. Will you just go. It’s only for one night.

Joyce: Don’t forget to get the thanksgiving groceries. I’ve left the list on the table. Bye.

Buffy: But mom! I hate…

It’s now school time for Buffy. She is with Willow, Xander and Cordelia in a cooking class.

Buffy: (to Xander and Willow) …and I have to do the grocery shopping.

Xander: Your mom’s cooking for you, herself, and the entire LA Kings squad?

Cordelia: (coming to the group with a big cake) Is that your plastic surgery list Buffy?

Buffy: Are you baking a cake or a meltdown Cordelia?

Cordelia: You can easily replace an outfit with a trip to K-mart. The dry cleaning bill for my designer labels costs more than your entire wardrobe.

Xander: (dying to taste the cake) Cordelia, you’re looking gorgeous today.

Cordelia: Back off, Xander. No cake for you.

Buffy: Cordelia, the cake nazi. (walking away) What I want to know is why do we have to have turkey every year? I vote for a change… Y’know something more exotic like…

Willow: Game hen?

Xander: Narwhal?

Cordelia: (seeing her cake turning to a creamy mess) Oh, Martha! How could you let me down. I never believed those rumors!

Buffy: (smiling at Cordy’s remark) How symbolic. (turning to everyone) So which one of you guys is gonna volunteer to help me out with the shopping?

Cordelia: Did someone say shopping? That is so what I need right now.

Xander: For groceries, Cordy. Y’know eaty stuff.

Cordelia: (walking away) *Ewww*, doesn’t the help buy those for you?

Willow: The night before thanksgiving? Your average Safeway is gonna be busier than Betty Ford at a Hollywood party.

Xander: She is right, Buffy. We’ve bailed you out of some wacky situations, but thanksgiving shopping? That’s just sick.

Willow: Sorry, Buffy.

Buffy: (as Xander leaves with Willow) This is when I need you the most, when the chips are down. Fine, just leave me. Fair-weather friends.

Buffy, Xander, Willow and Oz are sitting around a table in the high school garden. Willow has the cake she baked. Buffy is staring sadly at her grocery list.

Buffy: Glacé cherries? Why would we need glacé cherries? Growing up is buying inedibles to sit at the back of a full cupboard?

Xander: Growing up means growing nose hair… and finding yourself humming Leanne rimes and not caring.

Oz: (pointing at the cake) This is chocolate, right?

Willow: (ready to cut a part in the cake) If you don’t want any of my cake, just say so.

Oz: (staring at the slice in his hand) No, no really. It looks… yummy. (tasting the cake and making a sign of approval) *Mmmm. Yum. Hmmm.*

Xander: Not as good as a coyote sandwich tho’, huh? (receiving a deadly look from Willow) Hey, it was a joke. *Ha Har*?

Buffy: Oz, you have a van, right?

Oz: *Uh-huh*..

Willow: (presenting another part) Another slice?

Buffy: Then you can help me with the groceries, right?

Oz: (another slice in his hands) Wrong. I have to "stay in" tonight.

Willow: It’s that time of the month.

Buffy: Oh, yeah. What a bummer.

Xander: The bummer is waking up butt naked in the garden with half the neighbor’s cat in your mouth.

Oz: I’m pickin’ up a vibe that my "problem" makes you uncomfortable, Xander?

Xander: Absolutely not. You’re a stand-up guy. Even chasing sticks is cool, in moderation.

Willow: (to Oz, still holding his slice untouched) You do want another slice, don’t you, sweetie?

Oz: (giving the slice to Xander) *Uh*, I have band practice… somewhere… that I should be at right now.

Willow: (suspicious) But you don’t have your guitar, Oz. (Oz leaves)

Buffy: (looking at her watch, and standing up) Oh my. Is that the time? I’m late meeting Giles.

Xander: (standing up, the slice in his hands) Yeah *uh*, I gotta dash. I promised I’d wash my… *uh* …house.

Willow ends up alone at the table with her cake. Buffy is sitting in the library, reading a copy of the "Medieval Survivalist Monthly".

Buffy: I still have a nagging feeling of a lack of closure. I couldn’t find the remains of that fourth vamp in the ‘burbs.

Giles: (glancing through books) I’ve been meaning to discuss that very incident. I must insist you call in before hurling yourself into such a potentially dangerous situation.

Buffy: *Err*, Giles, news flash! The whole Slayer deal is "potentially dangerous". I saved the good guys, impaled the bad guys. No probs.

Giles: What if there had been "probs"? I wasn’t aware of your location and wouldn’t have been able to provide back-up had you been in trouble.

Buffy: (chewing gum) *rack. Bup go-hur.*

Giles: I suppose chewing gum and paying attention would be too much for your MTV brain to process.

Buffy: You’re always telling me that you’re not gonna be around to bail me forever, Giles. I have to learn to look after… (turning her magazine to show a picture to Giles) Check this out. A replica goupillon flail for only $399.95 (plus postage and packaging). Can I have one? Huh? Can I?

Giles: (the picture shows a closet full of diverse weapons) Honestly, Buffy. You order these products, practice with them for a morning and then cast them away in favor of a piece of kindling. When’s the last time you used your hippe?

Buffy: …never get to have fun.

Giles: (leaving his book aside) So what makes you think a vampire escaped?

Buffy: It’s just a hunch. I couldn’t find any signs of dust and well… this might sounds paranoid.

Giles: Go on.

Buffy: I have the feeling something is lurking around my house. Isn’t there some kind of vampire detector kit available?

Giles: Unfortunately, the patent’s pending. You are certain a creature was seriously injured?

Buffy: There was blood all over the wipe-clean fitted work surfaces. So, why are vampire blood stains impossible to wipe out?

Giles: I don’t know, Buffy. They are demonic creatures who feed on the life of innocent. They have no respect for clean laundry.

Buffy: Is there no end to there wickedness?

Giles: Well, they did not invent infomercials.

Buffy: That’s true. Even vamps have their self-respect.

Giles: (picking up another book) We should be thankful for small mercies. Now, according to my sources… (the text is no read from the book. As the reading goes we can see Selke, in the tomb where she found refuge, catching and eating a rat) "When hell gapes to welcome the damned. The cursed will creep untoits lair. 'til dissolved the incessant pain. Fearing the stare of nature’s eye. For ne’er can die, but suffer the thousand tortures of thirst. ‘til sullied flesh is renewed."

Buffy: What source is that Giles? Motley Crue’s lyric sheet?

Buffy: (now home in her bed, on the phone with Willow) …so is Oz safely behind bars?

Willow: *Uh-huh*. Giles locked him into the library book cage. Oz drew the line at being muzzled, though. Xander’s idea, naturally. So, are you okay alone in the house or is insomnia the reason for calling me so late?

Buffy: Actually I’m trying to stay awake. I figure if I shop in the A.M. then the aisles’ll be deserted.

Willow: Any sign of your phantom stalker?

Buffy: I’m not stressed by a single vamp dodging the stake. The creep is probably shriveling up like a raisin as we speak. (looking through the window) *Hmmm*, no nightmares for me tonight. Sorry, g’night.

Willow: Happy grocery shopping.

Buffy falls asleep. 2:30 am, the alarm rings and wakes her up, apparently against her will. She heads to the "All-Nite-O-Mart" with a shopping cart.

Buffy: (picking up a box on a shelf) Only the deranged would shop at this hour. (she sees a man carrying a brown bag full of groceries. He’s wearing a purple night clothes with red spots, and some white-bunny-comforters)

Woman: (to the invisible dog at the bottom of the end she holds) Sit, Kevin! There’ll be no walkies for you.

Buffy: (as she passes by a guy in full ski clothes in the frozen food department) Yup. It’s just me and the psycho-loonies. (then picking up a huge turkey) Oh, man. There’re only these enormous ones left. Or have I got an ostrich by mistake?

Cashier: (giving back the change) …of course the graveyard shift’d be better without so many crazy people.

Buffy: I bet. Thanks. (outside, reading her grocery list) …check. Glacé cherries. Check. Darn it! I forgot tooth-picks.

Suddenly Selke, wearing Buffy’s Halloween costume, hit her from behind with a severed human forearm. Buffy falls unconscious, head first, in her cart. Selke walks away pushing Buffy in her cart. She carried her to the tomb she live in. Buffy wakes up laying on a graveyard, feet and arms tied. Selke has a butchery knife (right hand) and hatchet (left hand). Candles burns all around the grave.

Selke: Welcome, you’re just in time for Thanksgiving dinner. I’ll be serving. As my family appears to be without limbs right now.

Buffy: A girl want to be taken out to dinner now and again but I expect ritzier decor.

Selke: Remember me? Or where my friends and I just one of your many slasher-massacre evenings?

Buffy: This is a one-Starbucks town. Y’gotta make y’r own entertainment. Did your mom bring you up right? You left your blood all over the kitchen.

Selke: (now carrying a bucket of ashes under her left arm and the hatchet in her right hand) I’m sorry, honey, I appear to have left the giblets in the turkey. (raising the hatchet above her head) I’ll disembowel it right away.

Buffy breaks the cord at her feet and roll aside of the grave. Selke’s hatchet hit the empty stone. Has she advances to throw another blow, Buffy, her hands still tied in her back, kicks her away and then breaks the remaining links.

Buffy: (picking up the bucket of ashes and looking inside) Didn’t recovered much of you buddy, huh? (Selke is raising a coffin to throw it at Buffy) I think you could have sprung for a better urn. Cheap plastic shows a lack of respect. (throws the ashes in Selke’s face and runs away. But the vampire hit her with the coffin in the back. Buffy falls) Ouchie! Slpinters. (hitting with the hatchet, Selke cuts the rest of the rope on Buffy left arm. She bleeds. Buffy stares at the vampire) I hate scars. Lookin’ a little hungry. Rat slushies not enough for a growing vampire? (Buffy grabs a metal can in the cart and throws it at Selke’s head) Strike one. (again) Strike two. (Selke’s jumps, hatchet in hand. Buffy uses the turkey to hit her in the air) Strike three! (Selke lands in the candles and burns) YIKES!

(leaving the burning tomb with her cart) *Koff, koff* Splutter. Wow. I was almost toast. You may me look like a bag lady, but I love you, grocery cart. (Thanksgiving. Buffy is sitting, dishes in hand, as Joyce brings the turkey on the table) *Mmm-hmmmm*. That looks great, mom. I’ll never bad-mouth turkey again.

THE END.