Title –Door 25
Author name – Dub
Rating – PG – Potent guano
Disclaimer – It’s the mouse! He won’t stop until he owns everything. Everything belongs to Disney. Apart from John Lewis and partners but who knows. I Know I don’t own any of it.
Feedback –If you survive reading this tell your story. A support group will be needed.
Summary – Conclusion to
Dubs Festive Advent Challenge.
Authors Note – reading all 24 days of the
KB advent calendar and 24 days of
Dubs Festive Challenge might help add context to some stuff in here along with understanding UK supermarkets but otherwise, buckle up kids and enjoy the ride with horror in your eyes.
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Door 25Narrator – ‘Tis I, your humble narrator Dub and on our foray through the festivities of The Kitten Boards treasured ladies we now come to the event itself. We’ve had a nostalgic look at old and now we continue to the new and beyond.
Now let us rejoice at what our girls are doing this Christmas morn.
We find Willow sat in bed, arms folded and face scrunched in anger and anguish. Muttering left her lips but a joyeux noel was not this.
Willow - Why did she have to go? She should be here with me, in bed. I get it built up over time and it got to bursting point but why go, we could have sorted it. We could work anything out together but instead I’m here alone on a holiday I don’t religiously celebrate.
Narrator – But what’s this we hear? Is it an angel’s cry from the top of the tree, her harp strumming a precious melody? *FLUSH* Maybe not.
Tara – Have you been sulking? I had to go to the bathroom.
Willow – Yeah but that’s a whole room away. This is door 25 Tara! We are the big guns, we have to pull out all the stops to please the Kittens who have read all the other 24 doors.
Tara – You think my pee would do that?
Willow – For some of them, yeah!
Narrator - *Clears throat* Now the reunion of the witches shall lead us to the riches we seek. For it is the time of the year where we show appreciation for one another. A winter’s cold thawed for the day through sentiments of love and meat sweats.
Willow – Tara I have to tell you something and it might sound crazy but …
Narrator – What’s this I see? Our dear Willow down on one knee.
Willow – You’re the Velcro loops to my Velcro hooks.
Tara – seriously Will? This is crazy, you propose to me every Christmas and you’re on Velcro now? Has every other analogy of symbolic togetherness been used?
Narrator – Yes, yes it has. I’m trying my best OK, Big knowledge woman. Man I hate Christmas.
Willow – No men here, this room is for lady lovin’ only.
Tara – Can we just not do this now?
Narrator – Thankyou Tara. Now Willow if you will please –
Tara – No you’re the problem, stick to the narration I’ve got a question to answer. If you’ll please ask me sweetie.
Narrator - *Turns mic off* I’m the problem, yep its Christmas alright. *Mic back on* Oh what sights a proposal between our two delights.
Willow – Will you marry me?
Tara – oh yes.
Narrator – Who would have thought this Christmas morn a joining in matrimony would adjourn? I guess that kind of rhymes if not making any sense. I mean it’s an engagement so the matrimony is kind of delayed. It sounded convincing when I thought of it.
Tara – That’s my line.
Willow – Yeah that’s my girl’s line.
Narrator - *Sighs* Tara jumped into Willows arms. A love never lorn. Arms around the waist and their kisses chaste until friction grew a conviction and lips started to part. A frenzy of hands disrobing their parts. Parts? You mean? Oh god, pan the camera! Move the camera away! I’m not narrating that.
*Camera pans away and heads down the stairs to the Summer’s living room*
Words we do hear from an ex demon so dear.
Anya – You can really hear the fear when they repeatedly announce Santa Claus is coming to town.
Dawn – I don’t hear it Anya
Anya – Christmas songs are always best live. You see the fear in small children’s eyes as they warn the parents of their incoming doom.
Dawn – Have you been to the elementary school carol concert again?
Anya – Oh they don’t let me in anymore after the incident with the fire extinguisher and the woman with the very warm, reddening rash. I stand by the gates and watch through the window.
Narrator – spontaneous combustion Anya did think but thankfully charges were not pressed for Anya to be put in the klink.
*the front door opens*
No key in the lock, not even a knock that’s how you know Xander’s here to spread the Chrostmas cheer.
Xander - *Sleeping bag rolled up under his arm* I think next year I’ll skip the sleeping outside tradition.
Dawn – I thought you liked sleeping outside to avoid your parent’s arguments?
Xander – Yeah turns out when you have a partner with you the arguments happen right under the stars
Anya – I thought it was Santa
Xander – Not every plane is Santa. You screamed at everything in the sky.
Anya – forgive me for warning off potential disembowelment.
Narrator – Or being molested.
Anya - When a creepy old guy is in a child’s bedroom and the child screams the old guy disappears sharpish.
*Screams from upstairs*
Narrator – Commotion on today of all days whatever could have caused such dismays.
Tara & Willow – GILES!
*Tara and Willow hastily dressed, rush down the stairs*
Anya - *looks to Xander* I told you
Narrator – It seems the watcher has become the disruptor of the kitten’s favourite activity but why has he lost his gallantry?
Dawn – BUFFY!
Narrator –Hark the herald slayer sings a bunch of expletive mutterings.
*Buffy enters from the kitchen having been preoccupied with her pipes in her basement*
Buffy – I left him in the kitchen with a cup of water and told him not to move until he drank it.
Xander – He’s celebrating the British way again I take it?
Buffy – Yep found him at 3am with baileys on his Weetabix while doing his best Mariah Carey impression.
Anya - Did he want you?
Buffy – I think he wanted the Weetabix out of his baileys.
Narrator – Stumbles and grumbles and a bottle full of scruples, Giles appears dishevelled with red tipped ears.
Giles – I’ll have you know, it is customary to start as early as possible.
Tara – I thought it was Buffy out all night?
*Buffy shifts sheepishly*
Giles – Midnight mass, the blood of Christ. *Looks at the group and raises his bottle* Church approved *Slumps awkwardly onto a chair with helpful bruise inducing nudge from Buffy*
Willow – If it was Giles, what happened to you Buffy? You look … unpleasant.
Narrator – Sharp as a tack, but her passive aggression skills don’t stack.
Buffy – I was visited by three boyfriends last night. The ghost of boyfriends past
*Angel was standing in the corner looking deeply into the flickering flames of the fire. His usual doom and gloom intoxicating absolutely no one with common sense*
The Ghost of boyfriends present
* Riley was on the phone to his mother with a smile ear to ear. The mommas boy from Iowa for once not in military gear*
And the ghost of boyfriends future
*The door bursts open as Spike rushes through with a smouldering blanket over his head flames bursting from various parts of his body*
Spike - *Pats out a flame on his crotch* Guess I’m the roastin’ chestnuts this year.
Buffy – You’re a pig Spike.
Spike - Gonna eat me for dinner?
Narrator – Let’s keep this family friendly. Willow was aghast at the slayers Christmas pumps. But a different query quandered her inquisitive brain lumps.
Willow – What time line even is this?
Narrator – Think perpetual series five but with future series progression, so everything still happened. But not that, you know that thing. That thing that the show does but the kittens don’t. That thing. You know. If it does it’s not permanent.
Tara – why is the narrator looking at me like that?
Willow – No reason. The mmummrfugh report.
Tara – Dub is not mmummrfugh-ing my report.
Narrator – No! Never. Seriously you think I’d do that, just jump straight to the worst. I idolise you and you think that I’d … Well this is Christmas of ‘05 all over again. *Inner monologue squeals, she knows my name!*
*The window smashes and a body barrels through destroying the tree and aesthetically pleasing wrapped gifts beneath it*
Faith – Whoa stuck the landing. S’up Buff. Thought I’d roll by.
Buffy – Why?
Riley – Christmas is the time for crazy cousins.
Buffy – She’s not my - *realises she still hasn’t corrected Riley on the cousin thing, Iowa boy thinks he kept it in the family* Never mind.
Faith – G-man keepin’ it traditional I see *hands him alcohol miniatures from a motel fridge*.
Xand I didn’t get you anything, the memories should last you a life time.
*Looks to Anya* you get my sloppy seconds, whoever you are.
Dawn *A slight nod of the head, reading their own fan-fiction prevents them from making eye contact*
Red, Tara I got you this. *Hands them a neatly wrapped gift.*
Narrator – A gift to amend the ruined date at the Bronze or this being Faith is it a box filled with prawns?
Willow – don’t open that baby!
Tara - *noticing the furrowed brow taking residence on Faiths face* I’m allergic.
Giles – I better still get my prawn cocktail
Spike – its tradition!
Buffy – We aren’t in England now, or the 80’s.
Faith – are you opening it or not?
*Willow unwraps the gift slowly, one eye on the gift and another on the dark slayer*
Narrator – Biological warfare it is not but the gift itself made our girls wrought. A frame 5 by 5 but Faiths smouldering face was placed inside.
Faith – Thought you two needed a reminder of who the kittens fantasized about before you took them away *winks at Buffy*
Anya – Are we doing presents now? Gimme, gimme, gimme!
Dawn – they are all crushed
Narrator – Never fear for Dub is here. I have re-gifts for you all from years of non-desire and now I can offload them onto you the Scooby esquire.
Giles – You bloody well wont, I own a magic shop not a charity shop, despite the company it keeps.
Buffy – Giles has turned nasty drunk, must be time for dinner.
Xander – its only 9am
Willow – we’re running late!
Tara - are all the guests here yet?
Dawn – we didn’t invite anyone, Buffy doesn’t lock the doors.
Buffy – Things smash through them all the time and locks are expensive.
Narrator – *how’d you think I got in* As if on cue in comes the motley crew. We’ve got Snyder and Wilkins, Maggie and Adam, forest and Jenny, Ben and Jonathan and the principle with his skin taped on tight, its Flutie, not a pack insight.
Anya – Why aren’t you all dead?
Snyder – Its Sunnydale, no one stays dead.
Narrator – “Nervous whimpering*
Tara – Dub is giving me that look again.
Narrator – Yes! She still knows my name.
Tara – Huh?
Narrator – Oh crap, said it out loud. *regains composure and gathers what little dignity is left* Now all have arrived, it’s time to feast. Best not let the masses gluttony get deprived or they will become a hangry beast.
Faith – so who’s cooking?
Everyone except Tara – TARA!
Narrator – Ah that’s Christmas, exploiting someone’s historic trauma for personal gain. *evil eyes Sainsbury’s 2014 Christmas advert*
Willow – I can help with the potato peeling.
Tara – NO! I mean I don’t think that will help.
*Dramatic lighting change. Tara is now in a spot light as a familiar melody plays.*
I’m bored of boiled potato
Bland and without taste
Not bad with some gravy, though
But it goes into a thick paste
Now I have insight
Buying food in tonight*Moves to the kitchen as a bounty of food is spread across the counters*
I’m buying Waitrose
Where else could it be
A moist succulent turkey
It’s Waitrose I can tell
How it bankrupt me
But where are we to eat?
*twirls into the dining room, it is filled with all new furniture. High street claims it stylish but yet it is massively generic*
I saw a dinning unit
Wooden robust and classy
I could sit there and knit
And we could all eat our tea
John Lewis is great
I bought a festive set plate*Holds Willows hands and sings while looking deeply into her eyes*
I’m buying Waitrose
And John Lewis too
My bank account will die soon
They marketed so well
How my eyes did swell
Emotive blackmail*breaks away into the now empty Livingroom*
You make me Bankrupt!*Everyone rushes in as back up dancers all dressed in Christmas apparel*
I’m poor but inspired
Nothing is undesired*The house is all refurnished, fit to the brim with John Lewis and Waitrose merchandise*
I’m Buying Waitrose
And John Lewis too
Consumerism done right
My trolley is filled
Eating well tonight
A four hundred quid turkey*Singings directly to the turkey that’s size of a fat quail*
You make me Bankrupt!*Back to the single spot light on Tara*
Waitrose is Cor-rupt
John Lewis, Cor-rupt
Their partners, cor-rupt*the house gets gutted by John Lewis and partners employees*
Willow – While I like the righteous stand, I was looking forward to dinner.
Xander – they even took my sense of boyish wonder. How can I ever get it back? This is a trauma I won’t recover from.
*Enters a Sainsbury’s executive and hands Xander a check while hastily removing him to shoot next year’s Christmas advert. All the old furniture returns*
Anya – they took my gift from Faith away!
Tara- Dinner’s ready.
Willow – so soon, that’s like mag– Oh yeah.
Buffy – Time to have small talk for three hours while gorging ourselves in the act of eating our feelings instead of answering all the passive aggressive questions asked but made out to be friendly rebuttals.
Dawn – then we can moan we are too full, shuffle into the living room and then plow chocolates into our faces like we haven’t eaten in weeks.
Buffy – We trained for this at Thanksgiving, now its show time.
Narrator – So that’s what they did, eating suckled pig, veg with texture, fitting it all on the plate was architecture. A myriad of sauces with all of their courses and no boiled potato, it was all bellissimo.
Buffy – Charades time! Tara you’re up.
*Tara fails her arms in a frenzied motion in front of her*
Buffy – Swimming
Dawn – Swimming
Anya – Swimming
Narrator – it wasn’t swimming the first time! This game should be a crime.
Willow – Oh I know this. Its violence.
Buffy – no form of martial arts I’ve seen.
Dawn – Your enthusiasm shone through.
Narrator - *high fives Dawn, the girl knows a backhanded compliment*
Anya – my go! Ok two words.
Narrator – oh no. why does no one know how to use two fingers, the rule break causes my ill taste to lingers.
*Willow and Tara awkwardly shuffle against one another stifling a laugh*
Anya – Hey, pay attention to me.
*Anya falls to the floor landing like a white outlined corpse and points to her crotch*
Buffy – And this is a Christmas film?
Dawn – A Christmas carol? Scrooge is dead inside
Willow – is she breathing?
Tara – she is turning a funny colour
Narrator - *hangs head in shame* it’s Die Hard.
Anya - *gasps for air* yep, the best Christmas film.
Narrator – It is not a Christmas film. Christmas is not integral to the plot. Are the sequels set at Christmas? No. are they still Die Hard? Yes. If it was a Christmas film then all the films would be set at Christmas. Christmas is the setting, it is not the essence of the film.
Anya – that doesn’t rhyme
Narrator –I know it doesn’t but at this point it’s either going to rhyme or not. I haven’t gone through 24 days of Christmas jollies for the enjoyment of it. It has been fun but its still Christmas and it seems Tara and Willow loving cannot radiate warmth onto the deep murk of my distain for the holidays. Ok Anya, you alright with that? Get on with whatever I had you doing before the Die Hard nonsense.
Anya – I thought narrators where meant to be upbeat with an atmospheric tone to keep the reader engaged.
Narrator – Not this one. This is a proper Christmas experience, so I will look at my life and think what a rubbish year yet again. Look at all my regrets, the people around me, the world around us and take it out in ludicrous ways, I don’t know maybe a fan fiction. That’s Christmas, none of this happiness and childlike glee.
Anya – So delicate.
Dawn – Hey that’s not nice.
Narrator – Dawn I’m going to say this once and I want you to hear me clearly. GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!
Dawn - what did I do?
Narrator – Nothing but my gift to you this year is you seeing what that is like from the other side. Vocalise your problems. Look at your elders around you and don’t follow their footsteps of terrible communication. You’re better than that. You have time to change, you have potential.
Dawn – Well that sucks.
Narrator - That’s life.
Buffy - That’s my line
Narrator - *slams head against the desk* Where was I? Oh that’s right, Die Hard isn’t a Christmas film. The scoobies all agree, knowing now not to mess with me.
Xander – Can me and my new friends join?
Anya – Xander you’re back! Who are these guys?
Narrator – My skin is already pale but now it’s due to Sunnydale. The hell mouth has opened wide and released the Christmas advert horrors inside.
*The house starts filling with John Lewis adverts of Christmas past, Snowmen with scarves, luminous love hearts, crash landed aliens, animated woodland creatures, and a pyromaniac dragon, a monster under the bed, a dog on a trampoline, a horny penguin and paedo man on the moon with a telescope. Worst of all there’s the first evil itself, Elton John! He starts singing a terrible emotive cover of a well-known upbeat song*
Buffy – should I be slaying these?
Narrator – Yes please.
So that’s our Christmas story and boy it’s awfully gaudy.
A proposal and traditions. Twenty five days and I’ve completed my missions. Created from procrastination, I’ve even avoided a character assassination.
*Buffy eyeballs Dub sceptically*
Buffy – Have you done all the reviewing and this advent business to try and drum up an audience for your writing? You gave yourself door 25, that’s egotistical even by my standards. Door 25 is the best door it sometimes has a full candy bar in and you’ve got whatever this is. A breakdown of some proportion.
Narrator - Go sleigh Buffy! Slay! I mean, go slay … So this is our tale of door 25. Hopefully a laugh and not completely daft. But the thing you can count on at Christmas is the old faithful, when you come across as completely ungrateful. I say to you a phrase, bad feelings it will erase. A saying that begs forgiveness, I say to you all, Merry Christmas.
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