The Havoc
[How did Sarah "The Jobber Slayer" come to be? Fair question. If you care, the BOBRP Channel (known affectionately as the 'Burp' channel) is going to be showing Sarah, from the beginning. All the great promos (including the early Buffy "The Jobber Slayer" promos, before the whole lawsuit thing) that made Sarah into a cult phenomenon and led her to BOB. Tonight, we show with RP 2. This RP is called "The Havoc."]
Luckily, Buffy Summers’ mother didn’t own her own funeral home. Instead, they lived in a nice normal suburban house. You know the kind. A couple of stories, a cellar, an attic. Plenty of room. Also luckily, Buffy’s mom made plenty of money off others deaths. The funeral home she worked for was in Stamford. And Connecticut is one of the most expensive states to live in (in parts). But the whole point of this paragraph is that Buffy has a closet full of leather pants, sleeveless shirts and plenty of kick-ass boots. She threw on a leather jacket, to match her brown leather pants, over her white sleeveless shirt and pulled on her stylish, yet sensible boots, and was on her way.
She was dressed to kill. Or Slay. Whatever.
As she walked on the cool fall night, she realized she was being followed. She stopped and turned and wanted the suspense to end before it could begin.
“Show yourself,” she demanded.
He did. A guy WAY too good looking stepped from the shadows. A guy who needed to get into a car accident and have severe facial damage. Oh wait, he’s ugly at some angels. I mean, angles. He’s equal parts breathtaking and vomit-inducing. But it worked overall for him. It was like he was a good soul trapped in a tormented body or something.
“Is there a problem with me following you? Free street, free country. I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry. I don’t suck. I used to, but not anymore.” He looks her up and down. “I thought you’d be bigger,” he says while looking at her chest. “In the arms, I mean. And taller.”
“What do you want,” she asked.
“The same thing you do.”
“Okay. What do I want?”
“To slay them. To slay them all.”
“Sorry, wrong. But here’s a bird for your troubles,” she says, flipping him off. He only stares at her without reaction, Undertaker-style. “Who are you?”
“Let’s just say I’m a friend.”
“Okay.”
Buffy and the man, together, say, “I’m a friend.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t want another friend. I already have Connie.”
“I didn’t say I was yours.”
“Well, if you’re gonna be annoying me regularly, at least tell me, what is your name?”
“My name is-”
“It doesn’t MATTER what your name is!”
The man stares blankly at her. Buffy laughs.
“My name is Saint.”
“Saint what?”
“That’s it. Just, Saint.”
“No wonder why you’re so tormented. Saint Peter, Saint Paul, Saint Mark, then you. Just Saint. Maybe you should put the word ‘The’ in front of it so it doesn’t sound so….outdated ’80s pop-starish. Ta-ta Saint.”
****************************************************
The Little Brown Ring was filled to capacity tonight. Buffy found Connie Kuntz chatting with a group, all of them were dressed in similar short skirts and low cut tops.
“Buffy!” Air kiss, air kiss, from Connie. “Leather fetish?
“Not.”
“Well, you look okay, I suppose. We must go shopping. Excuse me a second. I need a line.”
One of the mindless drones asked Buffy about her bad girl past. Buffy was already bored with the convo before it began, so she just said, “I was a bitch. Deal with it.” Buffy looked around and saw Connie talking to a man dressed up as a baby, wearing only a diaper and complete with pacifier. Diaper Man lead Connie out the back door. Buffy’s got a hint something’s up. The narrator says so, that’s why. Or her instinct, whatever helps you get through this thing.
As she opened the back door, Buffy heard Diaper Man say, “I just shit myself.”
“Good for you. I hope my coke isn’t in your diaper,” Connie responds.
“Wanna touch my peepee?” Diaper Man tackles Connie. “Watch Monday Night Raw!”
Oh God! He was one of them!
Reacting on instinct, Buffy ran over to them and grabbed an ankle. She started to twist before she heard Connie yell, “Hey!” at her. “Watch the shoes!” Buffy then found the leg without the shoe and twisted.
“WAAAAAAAAAHHH!”
Connie shoved the big baby with the broken legsy-wegsy off her and stood up from the garbage pile.
“I’ll never watch wrestling again! And you,” she says to Buffy. “For almost breaking my ankle, consider yourself depopularized A.O.R.N.” She pulls out a cell phone from her purse and heads back to the door.
“Bitch.”
“If I could hear you, I wouldn’t care anyway.”
****************************************************
“Hey Buffy,” Kay greeted as Buffy came in the back door. She’s now wearing blue overalls and a white flowery long sleeve shirt. Her hair is down and she’s without the purple glasses.
“Hey Kay. Cool, that rhymed. Anyway, whazzup?”
“Not much. I’ve been here for about five minutes. Still no guys look at me,” she tells Buffy as the head for a table. Buffy looks around and sees half a dozen boys looking in their direction. “They weren’t looking until you started to talk to me.”
“Hellllllllo, ladies,” Richard Hurtz greeted. “Kay?”
“Hey.”
“I’m not going to ask the obvious question,” Buffy decided.
Kay gets all shy with her eyes.
Styles arrives. “Hello.”
They all greet him.
“Buffy, I need to talk to you about a bit of a problem that’s developed, um, in private.”
“Well, Dick knows already that I’m a Jobber Slayer. And you know Kay will find out eventually since she’s my best friend and all.”
“Right, well. We’ve gotten word that a Master is sending out jobbers into the streets to promote Raw.”
“Yeah, I just broke a Diaper Man’s leg. But I think he’s spread the word to Connie to never watch wrestling again. Negative reinforcement…”
“You’ve got to sop them. All of them.”
“No pressure there,” Buffy said shaking her head in disgust.
“We’ll help,” Kay volunteers.
Suddenly, the lights go out. The stage becomes backlit by a huge screen. A jumbo-tron of sorts. Farooq vs. Savio Vega! Oh no! It’s RAW!
“Be afraid. Be VERY afraid! Nobody leaves, nobody gets hurt. Just watch the show.”
Connie screams out. One of the dark followers grabs her and forces her onto the stage.
“It’s go time,” Buffy says.
The Master grabs Connie and forces her to watch the match, but worse, the show. The whole Raw experience. Buffy was on the move though. The Master’s minions had surrounded the stage and upon Buffy’s approach, prepared for a fight. These babies all wore leather jackets and were armed with bottles. As she approached, they grabbed the bottles by the nipples and broke the glass on the closest hard object. A table. A chair. A blonde’s head. The former innocent baby bottles were now instruments of death.
Buffy, armed with a pool cue, picked up the 8-ball and hit it like a baseball at one of the babies.
“Never played dodge ball before?”
Nine-ball. Baby 2 down.
“Didn’t anybody teach you the rules to this game?”
Cue ball. Another one down.
“Mark McGwire, eat your heart out.”
Four-ball. Another one down.
“The rules are simple.”
Five-ball. Another one gone.
“Buffy always wins Slay ball!”
And on and on until the only thing between Buffy and the Master was air.
“Uh, hello?” Connie asked. “Save me or you’ll so regret it.”
And with a wink and an evil smile, the Master threw Connie off the stage. Buffy missed the snag.
“Oww. I’m so suing this place!” Connie screamed.
A group of lawyers suddenly engulfed Connie and Buffy lost sight of the Master. She only heard something about how the havoc was just beginning.
“Wow, that was so cool. When you hit all those jobbers in the leg, they just disappear, huh?” Richard asked to no one in particular.
“It’s called Jobber Knee, it’s like an Achilles heel. It comes from Jobrony. That’s the proper name for jobbers. Just to hard to keep spelling over and over, y’know? To job a jobber, you gotta break the knee. Then they just go away like they never existed.
****************************************************
The next day. School.
Connie was talking to a friend. “I hear those baby men were part of a retarded gang. Rumor has it, Buffy knows them. They followed her here or something for revenge for her trying to kill them in a fire back in Greenwich. Well, the only thing getting burnt around here is her reputation.”
“Fire?” Kay asked as the ‘Shaggies’ eavesdropped on the conversation through a bush.
“Yeah, I burnt down the TV studio,” Buffy said matter-of-fact-like. “Kinda why I got kicked out of school. They made such bad shows there. People need to be entertained by television, not become mindless, psychotic robots because of it. TV is good. We must protect it.”
“Without good TV, the world is doomed,” Styles said.