B: Do I have funny bed hair or something?
A: Or something.
A: Where you going?
B: To go kill a cat on my head.
A: No mirrors.
B: You know, this place really isn't girl-friendly. No mirrors, no natural light.
A: I think you look perfect.
B: Oh, yeah, I really look... okay.
B: Maybe we should think about getting a few mirrors. And maybe a drawer, you know, for some of my stuff. Because that's what couples do -- they have drawers.
A: The prom?
B: End of high school rite-of-passage thingy. Think cotillion with spiked punch and electric slides.
B: Sorry. I guess it's later than we thought.
X: So, now, how did that work? Women would wish horrible things on their ex-boyfriends, you'd show up and make it happen.
An: That's right. The power of the Wish made me a righteous sword to smite the unfaithful.
X: Well, hey, good luck with that. Hope it works for you.
An: You know, you can laugh, but I have witnessed a millennium of treachery and oppression from the males of the species, and I have nothing but contempt for the whole libidinous lot of them.
X: Then why are you talking to me?
An: I don't have a date for the prom.
An: Men are evil. Will you go with me?
X: One of us is very confused, and I honestly don't know which.
An: Now I have all these "feelings". I don't understand it. I don't like it. All I know is I rally want to go to this dance, and I want someone to go with me.
X: Be still my heart. Oh, wait, it is.
An: Look I know you find me attractive. I've seen you looking at my breasts.
X: Nothing personal, but when a guy does that, it just means his eyes are open.
O: Anya, huh? Interesting choice.
X: Choice is kind of a broad term for my situation. See, it's either Anya, or the sock puppet of love for this boy.
W: Well, if Anya tries to get you killed, put me down for a big "I told you so."
B: Well, at least we all have someone to go with now. Some of us are going with demons, but I think that's a valid lifestyle choice.
B: Angel's going to lose it. But, not his soul. I mean he's going to lose it. His... *it*.
J: You don't drink? Beverages, I mean.
A: No, I do. It's just the caffeine. It makes me jittery.
B: So it was blue and sort of short?
W: Not too short. Medium. And it had this weird sort of fringey stuff on its arms.
G: What's that, a demon?
B: A prom dress. That Will was thinking of getting. Can't you ever get your mind out of the Hellmouth?
WP: So, it's safe to say we shouldn't waste any time on such trifling matters as a school dance.
C: Well, that's too bad, because I bet you would look way 007 in a tux.
WP: Except, of course, on the actual night, when I will be aiding Mr. Giles in his chaperoning duties.
G: What? Excuse me? Fine, fine, fine...
G: And I shall be wearing pink taffeta, as chenille will not go with my complexion.
B: But especially if we're all going to vaporize or something on graduation day, we deserve a little prom-y fun. One night of glory, not too much to ask.
B: I always say a patrol's not complete without a trip to the stinky sewers.
A: I'm sure I saw him come down here.
B: Couldn't we just let this be the vamp that got away? We could say he was this big.
A: What can I say? I need closure.
B: You need clothes. You don't have a tuxedo.
A: Since when did patrolling go black tie?
A: We have more important things to think about right now than a dance, Buffy.
B: Sorry, Giles!
B: What's with the dire?
A: It's nothing.
B: No, you have a "something" face.
A: And children.
B: Children? Can you say jumping the gun? I kill my goldfish.
A: I'm trying to think with my head instead of my heart.
B: Heart? You have a heart? It isn't even beating.
B: I want my life to be with you.
A: I don't.
B: You don't want to be with me?
W: Oh, he's a fool. He's just a big, dumb, jerk person. If you ask me. And he's a super-maxi jerk for doing it right before the prom.
B: He's 243 years old. He doesn't exactly get the prom.
B: You don't have to make him the bad guy.
W: But that's the best friend's job, vilifying and grousing.
W: It must be horrible.
B: I think horrible is still coming. Right now, it's worse. Right now I'm just trying to keep from dying.
C: I'm considering things a little more carefully nowadays. I don't want to get stuck with another dud.
X: Well, this should work for you. It positively screams nympho.
Girl: Is this a customer or a friend?
X: Neither. Just stopped by for my daily helping of bile.
C: No dresses, no cellphone, no car. Everything has been taken away because Daddy made a little mistake on his taxes... for the last 12 years.
C: And now she has to wear a name-tag. Oh, I'm a name-tag person. Don't leave that out.
C: The other part that totally weirded me out, that thing had good taste. He chucked Xander and went right for the formalwear.
X: That's right. He left behind his copy of Monster's Wear Daily.
C: Very smooth lines. Until he was shredded.
W: She's right. I mean, you've seen one big hairy bringer of death, you've seen them all.
O: Hey, pause it.
X: Guys, it's just a normal VCR, it doesn't... Oh, wait. It can do pause.
WP: Let me guess. He was quiet, kept to himself, but always seemed like a nice young man.
O: Well, he didn't seem the murderous type, anyway.
X: Well, I just wanted to say that your impersonation of an inanimate object is really coming along.
O: Once again, the Hellmouth puts the "special" in special occasion.
B: I'm going to give you all a nice, fun, normal evening, if I have to kill every single person on the face of the earth to do it.
X: What's the mission?
B: See if anyone's been in buying supplies to raise a hell hound.
X: Gotcha. Or check and see who's been stocking up on hell hound snausages. I hear those pups do anything for a tasty treat.
B: I mean, where did I think you get your blood, McPlasma's?
A: How are you?
B: Right as rain. Whatever that means.
B: I'm over the whole "Buffy gets one perfect high school moment" thing.
W: We can't just leave you, Buff.
G: Buffy, they're right. You need-
B: To see taillights. Hit the door. I have everything under control.
O: Buffy, it makes sense to-
B: Have. A. Nice. Time.
W: Okay, then.
X: See ya.
G: I don't really know what to say. Um, I understand that this sort of thing requires ice cream of some kind.
B: Ice cream will come. First I want to take out psycho boy.
G: You sure?
B: Great thing about being a Slayer? Kicking ass is comfort food.
An: She wished her husband's head would explode, which was great, except we were standing three feet from him at the time. What a mess. Of course, you know, during the plague, it was always parts falling off, but... that got pretty old since really they pretty much were anyway...
WP: I must say, this is all rather odd to me.
G: Oh, yes. Being at an all-male preparatory, we didn't go in for this sort of thing.
WP: No, of course not. Unless you count the nights you made the lowerclassmen get up as girls, and watched them-- Dip is tasty, isn't it?
WP: Salsa's hot. Very hot.
W: We got in. Maybe we should dance before we get besieged, bedeviled or beheaded or something.
WP: May I say, you look smashing.
C: It's a start.
An: So then this one time, a girl wished that her ex would cannibalize himself. Even I had a hard time watching that one, let me tell you.
X: Cordelia. Wesley. My god in heaven, it's good to see you. How are you both? And details, please.
X: It looks good on you.
C; Well, duh!
B: Sorry, new plan! The prom's a go. And you're pathetic.
B: Whatever. Every maladjust has his reasons. Luckily for me, you're an incompetent maladjust.
Psycho: My three fiercest babies are on their way to the dance right now. You think formal wear makes them crazy, wait till they see the mirror ball.
B: Oh, come on, that song sucks.
O: Everything cool?
B: Coolest. Devil dogs are history. How's the prom?
O: Strangely affecting. I got all teared up when they played "We Are Family".
Jonathan: We're not good friends. Most of us never found the time to get to know you. But that doesn't mean we haven't noticed you. We don't talk about it much, but it's no secret that Sunnydale High isn't really like other high schools. A lot of weird stuff happens here.
But whenever there was a problem or something creepy happened, you seemed to show up and stop it. Most of the people here have been saved by you, or helped by you at one time or another. We're proud to say that the Class of '99 has the lowest mortality rate of any graduating class in Sunnydale history. And we know at least part of that is because of you. So the senior class offers its thanks, and gives you, uh, this. It's from all of us, and it has written here: Buffy Summers - Class Protector.
WP: I'd like your opinion. While the last thing I wish to do is model bad behavior in front of impressionable youth, I wonder if asking Miss Chase to dance-
G: For god's sake, man, she's 18! And you have the emotional maturity of a blueberry scone. Just have at it, would you, and stop fluttering about!
WP: Right, then. Thanks for that.
G: You did good work tonight, Buffy.
B: And I got a little fun surprise.
G: I had no idea that children en masse could be gracious.
B: Every now and then, people surprise you.
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