THAT FAMOUS DEAD GUY

BY NYADES ROAD GHOST

DISCLAIMER: The idea of Buffy and all doesn’t belong to me, my family, my friends, or anyone I even remotely know. Don’t sue or anything.

RATING: G. I mean, it’s Elvis. How bad could it be?   

SUMMARY: Buffy sees the First in a form you might not have expected.

REVIEWS: Yes, please? Tell me if you like it, and, if you don’t, just don’t read it.        

SPOILERS: Anything up through this latest episode. I’m an American viewer.

 

 

That Famous Dead Guy

 

Buffy was patrolling as she usually did. Spike was training the Potentials back at her house and Andrew was, sadly, helping him out. She hadn’t seen any signs of the First all night.

 

“This is boring. I might as well go home.” She said to herself aloud. She turned around and was face to face with none other than- “You!”

 

“Wha?” Said the figure. She stood back and observed this new guy. He had a horrible hair do and a white jump suit. And, for some odd reason, he was carrying a microphone.

 

“You’re that famous dead guy!”

 

He looked offended. “I’m Elvis Presley, ma’am.”

 

“Yeah, him. I loved your work!”

 

“Thank ya, thank ya very much.” He flashed a smile.

 

“That one story you did, The Tell-Tale Heart or whatever, was great!”

 

“Uh, I sang songs, little lady.”

 

“Sorry.” She apologized.

 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

 

“Hey, aren’t you dead?”

 

“No. I’m livin’ in Iowa makin’ crop circles for a livin’ now.” He laughed. “I never told you that, alright?” He said a bit more seriously.

 

Buffy nodded. “I see.”

 

“Oh, oh yeah.” He just remembered something. “I’m supposed to tell you, you’re gonna turn to the dark side. Ok?”

 

“Wait, You’re evil, aren’t you?”

 

“No, no ma’am…” He looked around nervously. “Oh, and that boyfriend of yours? He should be evil too. Got it?”

 

“Actually, I’m gonna kill you now.” She staked him and cut off his head in one swipe. “Huh.” She said. “It actually killed him.” She walked away. “THAT was weird.” She thought to herself. She turned and walked home.

Buffy had gone out to slay and left Andrew at her house. Training with Spike and the Potentials. Or so she thought…

 

“Ha, I can’t believe how great I am! I tricked Buffy and all that stuff…man, I may even be cooler than Xander.” Andrew did a little happy dance and continued his walk through the desolate night. “I’ll show her I can take anyone on. I’m headstrong to take on anyone…” He laughed as he said this last sentence. “That’s a song.” He continued to laugh and it turned into a cough. “Man, it’s cold. Maybe I could just turn around and do this some other-,” He was cut off as he tripped over a foot in the middle of the road. He stood up and brushed himself off. “Ow.” He said and then realized there was someone standing in front of him. “Hey, watch where you’re going.”

 

“Je suis désolé, monsieur.” (Loosely: I am very sorry, sir.) The man said.

 

“Yeah, you- wait, what?”

 

“Vous pouvez me comprendre?” (You understand me?)

 

“Dude, stop speaking French!”

 

“Que?” (What?)

 

“Are you lost or something?”

 

“Lost?” He said in a thick accent. “Je ne suis pas lost. Suis je?” (I am not lost. Am I?)

 

“You’re really confusing me, man. Do you know your name?” Upon the man’s odd look he tried to remember what he had learned in French back in high school. “Uh…Quel est votre nom?” (Which is your name?)

 

“Napolean.” He answered with pride. “Et vous?” (And you?)

 

“Et vous…et vous…oh, yeah. My name is,” He said each word loudly and slowly. “Andrew.”

 

“Je ne suis pas sourd, vous l'idiot!” He roared. (I am not deaf, you idiot!)

 

“Woah, calm down there, buddy.” He gave a nervous laugh. “We’re not mad at each other, k? How bout this: I’ll take you to the police station. We can, uh, do something there.” He cautiously took hold of his arm and began to walk. The man shook him off.

 

“No. Je fais des décisions parce que je suis grand. Vous devenez diabolique. Consenti?” (Something like: No. I make decisions because I am great. You become evil. Agreed?)

 

“Ok, how about we do the hand game? This,” He make his two fingers walk across his palm. “Means walk. We,” He pointed to himself, then Napolean. “Walk.” The finger thing. Napolean stood there and scratched his head.

 

“Ceci ne travaille pas si bien. J'irai maintenant, mais bientôt je reviendrai. Je suis diabolique. Vous comprenez ceci?” (This isn’t working so well. I will go now, but soon I will return. I am evil. You understand?”

 

“Um, what ever happened to the hands?” He smiled and wiggled his fingers.

 

He sighed loudly and rolled his eyes. “Qu'un idiot.” (What an idiot.) He put his hands on Andrew’s shoulders and Andrew stared nervously at them. “J'espère que vous ne réussit pas bien parce que je suis mauvais.” (I hope you do not fare well because I am bad.) With that he turned into a big puff of smoke.

 

“Alright.” Said Andrew shakily. “I-I guess he wasn’t a good guy.” He looked around him. “I think I’ll see what Spike’s up to.” He turned and ran the other way back to the Summers’ house.

 

 

Author’s note:  Sorry if I didn’t use some of the French words correctly. I was using an online translator. (www.freetranslation.com)  Did you like it? Do you think I should stop before someone gets hurt? Feedback, if you will, please.