CANON: Or Joss is God™

[sevendeadlyfun]

Pairing: None

Rating: G

A/N: There's been kerfuffle. There's been drama. There's been angst. I know nothing about how this started and I kinda don't care. But, for the record, feel free to criticize, critique or otherwise be mean to me, personally. There is no canon but canon and Joss is its prophet...Another crack!fic by me and kidcyclone . The snark is free, the bad characterizations you have to pay for :)

"Like, seriously Xander, this is just so boring," Buffy yawned. "I mean, a bleached pervert named Spike? Like I couldn't dust him in a second?"


"Uhm, I don't know Buffy," Willow stammered. "Giles says that he's really infamous and didn't Angel say he was the deadliest killer ever?"

GIles, rubbing his forehead while cleaning his glasses, says "Quite right, WIllow. William the Bloody is a formidable threat and one thing is certain, whatever brought him to Sunnydale, nothing good will come of it. It would behoove you, Buffy to--"

"Chill out, G-Man," Xander snickered. "The Buffster here is a killing machine, in the sense of not so much killing as slaying and not being machine like."

"Unless it were a size two machine that had some really cute capri's from the gap," said WIllow.

"Oh whatever,' snorted Cordelia. "I don't know why I hang around you losers anyways. I am much too cool for this and besides, I just got a manicure and vamp dust will ruin it. SO keep your stakey self away from me."

With that, Spike bursts into the library.

"Right pet, I told you we'd find them all here. In a nice tidy little grouping like. It's like one of those vending machines where you can choose whichever nummy treat want for the price of a couple of tenpence coins. What are you in the mood for, my dark delicious wicked plum, " Spike cooed.

Dru's twines her fingers through Spike's silky peroxided hair, tracing the path of his visible entities through the air. "Oh there's a green one and a red one, but the purple one is bitey, so he can't come to the ball."

"What a creep," Buffy shuddered. "How wish my dangerous yet sexually enticing undead lover were to here to teach you a lesson. Which I will now teach because I am THE SLAYER."

Giles in a stern yet stammering cultured English accent,"Now Buffy, remember your training."

"Training schmanging," Xander protested feebly and tremblingly but with an air of jocularity. "THE SLAYER can handle herself, right?"

"I'm going to enjoy taking this one out," Spike sneered.

He placed his hands on either side of the bulge in his tight dark jeans and arched a come hither brow at the blonde Slayer.

"Come on, luv, time for the dance."

Dru meanwhile advanced on Xander, moving her hands in front of her as she swayed, singing an ancient lullaby.

"Whoa, crazy vampire at two o'clock. How about you make with the mojo, WIlls? I'm such a demon magnet all the undead hotties want me," Xander whimpered.

Willow anxiously fumbled with the large leather bound book, saying "Well I'm not exactly sure about this spell. It might repel vampires but it might also attract cheese eating weasels."

Spike bobbed and weaved like a peroxided cobra, his lithe body enticing and seducing all who saw it. He sniffed the air, smiling a predator's smile as he scented his dark and brooding possible Sire.

"Oi, Peaches! Gonna take out your bint, and then I'm coming after you," he called out.

Angel stepped lightly from the shadows that were his rightful home, his face a mixture of befuddled hurt and puzzled anguish. He felt a wave of remorse as he watched his evilly beautiful possible Childe doing what he himself had taught him. He called out, "Oh Buffy, be careful! I wish I could save you. Certainly it would go a long way towards redeeming me if I did."

"Oh Angel," Buffy cried, her vanilla scented flesh calling to him from across the library. "He's merely a soullless evil thing that I will strike down for the good of kittens and puppies everywhere. No bleached blonde menace will stand in the way of our love."

"Talk about the pot calling the bloody kettle black," Spike scoffed. "I suspect your cuffs and collar don't match, pet."

"Puppies," Dru cooed, waving razor sharp nails before an enthralled Xander's face. "Daddy, I have a puppy and he's ever so naughty. Won't you join me for tea and crumpets? We'll dance and sing with the wicked fairies."

Angel beheld his malicious masterpiece with a sad rueful fondness. His mad Childe, beautiful and deadly, was his pride and his shame. He sighed, walking over to rescue the helpless, hapless Zeppo. He caressed Dru's cheek.

"No, no, bad Daddy. I see your effulgence. It burns and burns but the flames don't flicker. The stars are ever so cross with you, Daddy," Dru scolded.

"Now Dru," Angel murmured. "You know that my days of rape and torture are over. I can no longer be responsible for the things that I've done and my do again because it wasn't my fault it was Angelus' fault. So there's no need for me to feel guilty over things I didn't do, yet still I brood."

"Wow, talk about disassociation," said Willow.

Suddenly, Riley Finn peered into the library and asked, "Don't you just want to lock him in a room and perform experiments?"

A loud boom was heard to echo through the library. A whitely glowing cloud manifested in the center of the room. Everyone trembled as a mighty roar called out "CANON!"

"I am Joss, The Power that Be's. I have come forth to stop this madness. What has happened to my beautiful canon?"

"Canon," Xander asked. "We need artillary?"

"Friend of yours? Spike asked the delectable blonde vanilla scented Slayer.


"NO, stop this," Joss called out pleadingly. "NONE OF THIS IS CANON™! Don't you see how you're distorting reality here?"

"But...but..." Buffy stumbled as she tried to find the words.

"This is fanfiction," Willow interjected helpfully.

"Fanfiction," Giles snorted. "It's a bunch of balderdash and chicancery."

"Actually," Xander squirmed. "It's not all that bad. I'm particularly fond of Star Trek fanfiction."

"So," Spike said thoughtfully, "we're all just made up characters? Bloody hell...does that mean I can't kill THE SLAYER?"

"And the rats will nibble up the green cheese and the moon will fall from the sky," said Dru knowingly.

"Whatever she's on, I want some of that," Oz spoke up from where he sat, unnoticed in a study carrel.

"No, no," Xander protested. "You can kill her, you can screw her, you can cry unmanful tears..."

"What's a mangina," Willow asked innocently, looking up from her computer screen.

"But, I want to screw her," said Angel. "I mean, uh...I love your soul, Buffy."

"I don't want to screw her. I want my dark beautiful wicked princess," Spike protested. "I only want to kill her to add another notch to my slayer killing stick. I'd sooner shag Peaches than that vanilla scented tart. Bugger me, who writes this shit."

"Uhm," said a low voice. "That would be us."

Two very attractive women walked up and smooched Spike on the cheek.

"We're fanfiction writers," the smarmier one explained. "We've taken CANON™ and manipulated it for our own deviant amusement."

"And to prove a point," said the slightly british sound writer. "Because if this were just to get my rocks off, you and Angel would be doing it by now.'

"Huh," said Joss, sitting serenely on his cloud. "So what your saying is that this is an alternate universe that has no bearing on anything I've ever done?"

"All resemblance to any characters you may have created is entirely on purpose, but besides the point," said the smarmy writer.

"Angel, come on, haven't you ever thought of spanking Spike," urged her cohort. "Dandling him on your knee and lovingly shoving your sausage like fingers---"

"But, but," protested Joss. "What about CANON™?"

"You have no power here," the two writers proclaimed. "Now begone before someone drops a house on you too!"



And the moral of the story is: we like writing crack!fic.