Fic: The Return of the Son of the Deranged Mutant Killer Monster Snow Goons, chapter 4

[beer_good_foamy]

Title: The Return of the Son of the Deranged Mutant Killer Monster Snow Goons
Author: Beer Good (beer_good_foamy)
Rating: PG13
Fandom/timeline: Buffy, s3: "Amends". Except Dawn is in it.
Word Count: ~1300
Characters: Buffy, Faith
Disclaimer:: The characters belong to Joss, yada yada.
Warning: ***Non-sexual and fairly childish use of bodily fluids not normally considered appropriate to play around with. ...Yeah. Sorry.***
Summary: It's Christmas in Sunnydale, Angel has been talked down from the hill and awww, isn't all that snow pretty. That can't be a bad thing, can it? I mean, this is Sunnydale, where the supernatural is always helpful and it's not like magical snow instantly covering the entire town could possibly herald the arrival of... FLESH-EATING ZOMBIE SNOWMEN?!?

Watch out where the huskies go!
Don't you eat that yellow snow!
- Frank Zappa

Chapter 1: It Came Upon A Morning Clear
Chapter 2: Stalkin' In A Winter Wonderland
Chapter 3: Now I Have A Machine Gun, Ho Ho Ho

Chapter 4: Christmas Number One

... and the armour-piercing rocket took flight, heading straight for the giant snow monster. For a fraction of a second, it seemed to almost hang in the air above the cliff, before passing harmlessly straight through the fluffy snowman, having found nothing hard enough to detonate against. It ended up destroying a tree further down the slope (very conveniently, as the tree was currently the home to a cabal of soulless squirrel demons plotting their own apocalypse). Beowulf regarded the two Slayers curiously, then laughed a jolly "HO HO HO", waggled a few tree branches on one of his arms as if to say "naughty naughty" and continued to pack snow onto himself.

They lowered the useless rocket launcher. "You gotta be shittin' me," Faith groaned. "Now what do we do?"

Buffy shrugged, all out of ideas. "Cross the streams...?"

"I hated that movie. I just can't see Bill Murray fighting the undead." Faith shook her head slowly, then suddenly stopped. "But if..." She nodded thoughtfully to herself then glanced at Buffy. She looked back at the snowman and nodded more vigorously as she thought of something. Then she turned to Buffy with a grin that was up to no good. "OK, I'm game if you are. Drop 'em."

"Drop them? Drop what?"

Faith had already started unzipping her bright pink clothes as she explained her plan. "...that's about as combined as our essences are gonna get. Come on, B, where's your Christmas spirit? You gotta give a little to get a little. And don't act like you've never done this before."

"But I haven't!"

"Sure you haven't." Faith muttered something about about prude Californians. "Don't worry, just follow my lead." She pushed her pants down to her ankles, then smiled and crouched down in front of Buffy. She nearly lost her balance in the deep snow, and held out her hand for support. "Might wanna hold on to me. 'Less you wanna explain to your mom how her pants got stained..."

* * *

"I am NEVER going to stop washing my hands!" Buffy said four minutes later as she hurled another snowball at Beowulf. "NEVER."

"Whatever. Just keep hitting him." Faith scooped up another handful of yellow snow from the patch where they'd relieved themselves, formed it into a snowball and threw it with Slayer precision. The snowman had barely noticed the first yellow snowball, then cried out in pain when the second hit and started lurching towards them after the third. Now he careened downhill, gathering speed, as missile after snowy missile slammed into his body. Thumpettythumpettythumpetty...

"THROW!"

The two Slayers held their ground, pelting Beowulf with their enhanced projectiles as he barrelled down on them. Thumpettythump. In just a few seconds, he was going to be on top of them. The two christmas trees he was using for arms stretched out towards them, and he was so close now that Buffy could glimpse some tinsel still hanging on to one of them. THUMPETTYTHUMPETTYTHUMPETTY... She kept grabbing, squeezing, throwing, grabbing, squeezing, throwing...

And saw the yellow spots on the snowman's belly spread, turning from individual polkadots to a pattern. The tightly packed white snow quickly faded to an ochre sludge, and suddenly his entire midsection caved in. With an agonizing moan, Beowulf, first snowman of Sunnydale, fell apart and disintegrated into an avalanche that slowly ran down the hill and stopped at their feet.

Buffy poked the snowdrift carefully with her boot. "Huh. It worked." Then she quickly walked over to a patch of untouched snow and started cleaning her hands. "I have to admit, that was pretty smart. In an incredibly gross way. Remind me to yell at Giles later."

Faith almost wiped her hands on her pants, then thought better of it and also opted for wiping them in the snow. "I just figured, if he's really British we should be able to gross him out."

"Or piss him off," Buffy grinned.

"I was kinda trying to avoid that one, but yeah."

"So..."

"Yeah." They stood over their vanquished foe, a bit awkward.

"So I should probably be getting back home now."

"Right. You've got a Christmas dinner waiting for ya."

"Yeah." Buffy pulled her mittens back on. "Listen, if – Oh please. Enough already."

"What?"

Buffy sighed with resignation. "Behind you."

They both looked around in time to see Beowulf, now returned to his original size, crawl out of the huge snowdrift that had been a 60-foot snowman 5 minutes earlier. After baring his ketchup teeth at them, he skipped up on top of the snow and took off up the hill. "Catch me if you can, eh!"

Buffy tried to plod after it, but quickly gave up and stood there kicking at the knee-deep snow. "Uuuurgh! This is ridiculous! Even if we make it to the top he'll be halfway down the other side already. I hate snow."

"Ahem." Faith tapped her shoulder and pointed to their left.

"What?" Buffy looked, but saw nothing out of the ordinary for a wintry Christmas morning; the snow was glistening under the dark sky, a few dozen yards away a small kid was dragging a sled up the steep hill, and you could hear the faint sound of Christmas music from various directions as people started waking up for real. "What?" Faith just grinned and made a gesture that seemed to say "are you thinking what I'm thinking", which Buffy wasn't sure she wanted to admit that she was. "What?"

Faith shrugged and took matters into her own hands. "Yo! Kid!"

* * *

"MOOOOOM!"

Timmy Jones had gotten up this morning and snuck into the garage where he knew his dad kept the big presents. He promised himself he was just going to peek at them, really, maybe just loosen the paper a bit on that big one that was supposed to be for both him and his sister, maybe just rip off a bit and look inside... then before he knew it, he'd opened it completely. Then he'd looked outside. Five minutes later he'd been fully dressed, and despite his mother's strict orders to a) never to go out on his own and b) share equally with his sister, was on his way up the hill with his new present that he wasn't going to share with anyone if he could help it.

Now little Timmy came running into the kitchen, crying, dragging snow all over the place.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"T-t-two ladies stole my new sled!"

* * *

"I can't believe you just did that." They'd reached the peak of Kingman's Bluff. Far below in the valley, they could glimpse Beowulf.

"Relax, he'll get it back. We're just test-driving it for him." Faith didn't sound too put off by Buffy's admonishing tone. In fact, she sounded positively gleeful, like a... well, a kid on Christmas as she put the sled down and got on it. "Get on and hold on."

"At least tell me you've done this before," Buffy grumbled as she climbed on board the sled and tentatively put her arms and legs around Faith.

"Been a while. But how hard can it be?" And they were off, speeding down the hill faster and faster, bouncing and shaking in a way that didn't seem very festive at all.

"Watch out!" Buffy yelled in Faith's ear as they just barely missed a tree. "Are you sure you're in control of this thing?!"

"I dunno, are you sure you meant to grab my boobs just now?"

"I – woah!" For about a second they were airborne, then came back down with enough force to make them both wince. And they kept picking up speed. "I really hate flying."

"Duck!" They passed under a tree branch with inches to spare.

"There he is! To the right! STEER!"

"I'm tryin'! LEAN!"

"I AM leaning!"

"The other way, for fu- Aw, shit." They sped past Beowulf, who stood there with his hands on his hips and gave them a confused look.

"Turn back! Stop! ROCK!"

They both put out their boots to brake, but too late. The sled slammed into a big rock and sent them both flying in opposite directions. Faith hit the snow face-first and was out cold.

On to chapter 5, and the end: A Slayin' Song Tonight

Comments

[slaymesoftly.livejournal.com]

And... another cliffie! Loved the slayer-pee missiles; too mad they didn't work permanently. But, hey, means more fic coming up.

[beer-good-foamy.livejournal.com]

Thanks, glad you liked that little gross-out. :-) There's one more chapter to go, should be up soon.

[draconin.livejournal.com]

I just love the way you're putting in so many homages to Calvin and Hobbes! The sled ride was a hoot. :-)

[beer-good-foamy.livejournal.com]

There can never be too many Calvin & Hobbes homages. Well, I suppose theoretically there could be, but I hope I'm nowhere near the limit. :-) Thanks!

[moscow-watcher.livejournal.com]

So much fun in this story! The best Christmas our favorite slayers have ever had!

[beer-good-foamy.livejournal.com]

That's the idea - thanks!

[riccadonna.livejournal.com]

Gross, GROSS! But perfectly canonical: Buffy's been known to stick her thumbs in Gnarl's eyes to kill it, extremely gross too!
This chapter was too short for my expectations, but at least there was some just retribution to that misbehaving Timmy Jones--that kid won't be opening presents ahead of time or forget to share with his sister anytime soon.

[beer-good-foamy.livejournal.com]

Gross, GROSS! But perfectly canonical: Buffy's been known to stick her thumbs in Gnarl's eyes to kill it, extremely gross too!

Thank you. That was pretty much my line of thought too; yeah, it's gross, but come on, demon guts are far less clean. ;-) This chapter is a bit short, I agree, but I had to end the previous chapter on a cliffhanger out of pure principle, and so this one had to carry us from that cliffhanger to the beginning of the end... There'll be more soon.

[a2zmom.livejournal.com]

You are very strange.

I just would have melted the guy personally.

[beer-good-foamy.livejournal.com]

You are very strange.

So I'm told. :-)

I just would have melted the guy personally.

Well, Faith did suggest a flamethrower in the previous chapter. I guess the old proverb is true: thou canst never find a thrower of flayme when thou really needest one.

Thanks!

[ozma914.livejournal.com]

Well, that was just *wrong*! But in a very right way!

[beer-good-foamy.livejournal.com]

I know, right? ;-) Thanks!

[shapinglight]

Well, no one could say they're not good at improvising.

[beer-good-foamy.livejournal.com]

One of Buffy's best traits, I must say. Thanks!