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The Rescue ... Revisited. -- Rochefort, 01:00:46 01/05/04 Mon

[A suburban community. Kids play outside. A smallish fellow in his mid-twenties wearing brown chinos, black t-shirt and a sports coat stands on a porch. He looks sad a moment, then smiles, as if he has just reassured himself that everything will be o.k. He knocks. The door opens and there is a woman. She looks him over a moment.]

WOMAN: You must be Rochefort. CJLÕs internet friend. IÕm really glad you could come. CJL was so surprised when he ran into you at the grocery store this week.

ROCHEFORT: Internet friends? [Laughing] Ho ho ho, no. No,... CJL and I were revolutionaries together.

WOMAN: Revolutionaries?

CJL: [Coming in from the back yard] Rochefort!


[They shake hands warmly.]

CJL: Rochefort, this is my wife.

ROCHEFORT: Wonderful to meet you. CJL always used to say such beautiful things about you.

CJL's WIFE: Ah well, he's said a few interesting things about you, too.

CJL: Can I get you something to drink, Rochefort?

ROCHEFORT: No, thanks. No other guests have arrived yet?

CJL: Not yet. YouÕre early. I was firing up the barbeque. Want to come back and give me a hand.

[Rochefort nods, and they move to the back yard.]

ROCHEFORT: Great wife.

CJL: Uh.... thanks. That stuff about the beautiful things I said... Did you... did you know me when I was married?

ROCHEFORT: No. You told her we were internet friends, eh? She doesnÕt know about....

CJL: About MOLOJ? [Laughing] You and I can tell her the story after dinner. SheÕll get a kick out of it. We can even take turns telling the story. Like old times.

ROCHEFORT: Great! .... Nice back yard.

CJL: uh....thanks.

ROCHEFORT: Listen, can I get right to the point? I have something very important to talk about.

[CJL looks up from his barbeque... confused.]

ROCHEFORT: MOLOJ needs your help. I need your help.

CJL: [kind of relieved...is that all?] Really, Rochefort. You havenÕt changed a bit.

[Rochefort laughs, too. Then looks deadly serious]

ROCHEFORT: Things are in the works, CJL. IÕve this new technology that can tap into.... and I know what you're saying, I don't know anything about technology, but see I got around that... God I hardly know where to begin. DonÕt you miss them CJL?

CJL: Who?

ROCHEFORT: Buffy of course! Xander, Willow....

CJL: Sure, but... you know, itÕs like the end of The Rescue. Always in our hearts and all that... Did you want to watch the DVDÕs later?

ROCHEFORT: See....see thatÕs exactly it. That always in our hearts stuff. All that mystical first slayer mumbo jumbo you wrote, letting them go, setting them free and... I could never do that. I mean IÕve tried to do it myself, and ... you know I write Angel: he's lost his mind, standing at the fridge naked, his hair is falling out in patches, he's eating a stick of butter. And I wrote Westley into Cats... it was really funny. But then I try to give it that lesson, you know, like you always did, and my spiritually uplifting lesson is something like ÒDonÕt be in musicals that have no plot,Ó or... ÒWatch out for saturated fats.Ó [Rochefort throws himself down in a lawn chair.] IÕm all impetus and anger... but no class.

CJL: Well.... weÕve all got our skills.

ROCHEFORT: Right. Right! And thatÕs why I need all of us. I need the MOLOJ captains reassembled because...

CJL: YouÕre not.... this isnÕt about Joss again, is it? That basement stuff? HavenÕt we worked this all out.

ROCHEFORT: No no no itÕs not about Joss. Of course not. Angel is great this season. God love him. But Joss has no use for them. And we let them go disapear in the desert.

CJL: Kay, that was a metaphor um... I promise you theyÕre not off dying of thirst somewhere.

ROCHEFORT: Metaphorical desert metaphorical thirst. I want you back in MOLOJ.

CJL: It still exists?!

ROCHEFORT: Never hasnÕt.

CJL: Good lord, Rochefort. Listen, old friend. I joined MOLOJ way back then, and I believed in it. I thought it was doing interesting work. But it used to have focused issues. It used to mean something. But in my last years in MOLOJ, I mean you were... face it... MOLOJ was just running around half cocked declaring revolutions against everything and anything. Revolution for the sake of revolution. Do you even remember what the letters stand for now?

ROCHEFORT: Of course. [thinking...then to himself] Margarine... [Frustrated. Then to CJL] Anyway, thatÕs not the point. I mean there IS a point. The point of MOLOJ is weÕre going to bring them back.

CJL: Back?

ROCHEFORT: Back from the desert. Back from oblivion. We can bring them back to their former glory. But not like when we did it before. Better. For real.

CJL: Did you even READ the Rescue? DidnÕt you get the point? The desert was....

ROCHEFORT: Yeah a metaphor, I know. ThatÕs whatÕs so great about you. ThatÕs why I need you.

CJL: God Rochefort. I can't believe you're still off on this. ArenÕt you supposed to be educating the public on Romany culture?

ROCHEFORT: Yeah I was. The Romany were sort of.... not as sexy in real life.

CJL: I wish I had the time for this. But if you want to collaborative fanfic... maybe you should get in touch with HonorH or Ponygirl?

ROCHEFORT: Yeah HonorH is doing fashion in Paris... Ponygirl was there for a while, but after she became an international spy well... . Anyway, I have people on it. Ponygirl and HonorH are going to be in, too.

CJL: You have ÒpeopleÓ on it?

ROCHEFORT: I told you... MOLOJ.

CJL: Listen, I have friends coming over. I invited you over cause it was good to see you again. I thought youÕd be an interesting dinner guest. But youÕre being a little too interesting. If youÕre going to ...

ROCHEFORT: Then you donÕt want to do it.

CJL: I have a job and a wife and....

[Rochefort pulls out a syringe with a green glowy liquid in it.]

CJL: What the....

ROCHEFORT: I wish I could afford to give you a choice.

[Rochefort stabs CJL with the syringe. CJL gives a great Òet tu, you nutty bastard?Ó look and then collapses to the ground. Rochefort looks down at CJL... and then up.... a helicopter approaches. He signals to it, and it descends.]



[> Thread condensed above; time to archive this puppy. -- cjl, 18:28:17 01/09/04 Fri

[> Chapter I -- Spiritually Uplifting -- Rochefort, 01:05:38 01/05/04 Mon

[> [> Alt Title: 2 Years After or The Man in the Kevlar Mask. Chapter I "Watch Out for Saturated Fats" -- Rochefort, 01:12:57 01/05/04 Mon

[> MOLOJ Returns!! -- dub ;o), 06:53:47 01/05/04 Mon

Woo! Hoo!! I remember it like it was yesterday...


[> I'm afraid. Very afraid! -- Pony, 07:42:45 01/05/04 Mon

[> [> You should be. You're next. -- Rochefort, 16:13:44 01/05/04 Mon

[> Oooooooookaaaaay........... -- cjl, 09:01:02 01/05/04 Mon

I'm kind of stunned here.

First of all, I never would have believed that I'd ever be a fanfic character in a story I didn't originate. Feels weird. It's also a little strange that I find the fanfic version of myself to be a more interesting and charming person than the real me. If God ever subcontracts my personal narrative out to a freelance writer, you're hired.

Wife. Backyard barbecues. Good friends. I know it sounds mundane, but I like it. Something to shoot for.

ROCHEFORT: Metaphorical desert metaphorical thirst. I want you back in MOLOJ.

I think I know where you're going with this story. You may have had to put the needle in the fictional CJL, but this one (can't call the ATP poster the "real" person either, you know) is enough of a writer to be intrigued, and I'm willing to go along. You're still working things through, my old comrade-in-arms, and if you need me to help you move on or achieve a higher level of understanding or whatever, I'm with you.

E-mail me. I you need it, I'll contribute a chapter or two. But this is something very personal to you, and I don't want to muck it up.


[> [> Re: Oooooooookaaaaay........... -- dub ;o), 11:37:10 01/05/04 Mon

Hmmm. On the wife issue, I was thinkin' it might be that Stephanie, from the thread below? She seems to...um...like you a lot!


[> CHAPTER II. Pony Express -- Rochefort, 16:28:50 01/05/04 Mon

This is collaborative. Open to anyone. So feel free to join in. But if nobody wants to write, I'll just keep going until I've written the great American ATPoBTVS novel. Even if no one reads it. (p.s. if you don't read it, I'm going to make you a character in the story who only eats quiche.)

[As the helicopter rises into the sky, Rochefort looks down to see the tiny figure of a woman run into CJLÕs backyard, leaping and waving her arms. CJL doesnÕt see it though (because he is drugged to unconsciousness) and CJLÕs backyard slowly disapears from view.]


ROCHEFORT: Yes. Fly this helicopter over the Atlantic ocean to Paris. And fly it low over the water.... maybe we can see a dolphin, hey?

HELICOPTER PILOT: Sir, weÕve had word that our team has located Ponygirl. Prague, sir.

ROCHEFORT: Excellent.

[Cut to: a dark office building, somewhere in Prague. There are gun shots. A slender figure dressed all in black leaps across the frame. The frame is then riddled with gun fire. The camara follows her down a hallway. She ducks into a drinking fountain aclove. It is Ponygirl, though her hair is dyed orange so itÕs hard to tell. She breathes deep and is ready to run again when there is suddenly gun fire from the opposite end of the hallway. There are shouts and cries on both sides.]

PONYGIRL: [looking out briefly] Those arenÕt Al-Queda fighters. [She looks again.] But theyÕre.... not Americans either. [She ducks back into the aclove as the two sides continue to exchange fire across the hallway. She gets a sip of water from the drinking fountain.] Anyway, IÕll take whatever help I can get. All thatÕs important is that I get this microfilm to the President of Prague.

[An Al-Queda fighter and one of the mysterious troops engage in hand to hand combat in front of Ponygirl. They donÕt notice her, despite her orange hair and great figure, and she slips by them and leaps into a mail shoot.]

[Cut to: a helicopter landing strip on the roof of a chateau in France. Rochefort exits the helicopter and signals to some men.]

DIRK: ThereÕs a tiny little motor scooter waiting for you downstairs.

ROCHEFORT: What does it want?

DIRK: Um. It's for you to scoot around town, sir. What should we do with the prisoner?

ROCHEFORT: HeÕs not a prisoner. HeÕs CJL. HeÕs an old MOLOJ comrade who just needed a little extra convincing. But heÕll come around. [Checks his watch] Huh. HeÕs been out for a while.... would you make sure to get him inside and get him some medical attention just in case. Keep him here. IÕll be back shortly from my visit with HonorH.

[Suddenly a black clad MOLOJ agent is flung from the helicopter. There is the sound of more fighting. Then the helicopter begins to lift off the ground. Another MOLOJ agent falls out. Dirk draws his gun and begins to fire.]

ROCHEFORT: Hold your fire! [Rochefort watches the helicopter with regret].... HeÕs gone. I donÕt understand why heÕs not with me.... but perhaps we all have our own density. We havenÕt seen the last of him.

AGENT #1: So what now?

ROCHEFORT: The plan doesnÕt change. We just have to move faster. IÕm off to see HonorH. In the meantime....find me some kind of transportation to Prague. [Begins to leave, then pauses with another thought] Something bigger than a motorscooter if you can. But if you can't... that's o.k.

DIRK: To each according to his need, comrade.

ROCHEFORT: Uh huh. On second thought... have you ever met a fashion diva, Dirk? Why don't you come along.

[> [> MOLOJ is back! A mystery will be solved (I hope).. -- jane (ex hippy chick with a horse), 17:47:05 01/05/04 Mon

I wondered what happened to all you folks! Visions of wanderers in the desert abounded,never clarified,leaving me believing it was all a mirage.. and me running after it crying "Wait for me - I've almost got this darn saddle on my horse! Just let me get my peace symbol adjusted, cause
it keeps whacking me in the head.."
I have little writing talent, but I'm a very good reader, if you have need of one.

[> [> Re: CHAPTER II.a - An Interlude in the Corridors of Power -- Pony, 17:50:20 01/05/04 Mon

Rochefort, you had me at "slender figure." I'll keep this brief since I'm not sure where you're going with this, and The O.C. is on in twenty minutes.

[The Presidential Palace, Prague. Ponygirl enters through a sewer grate, climbs up a storm drain, unlocks a secret door, takes a hidden staircase, stumbles into a tour group in the main lobby, backtracks and finally steps out from behind a velvet curtain into a plush and imposing office. She walks up to a heavy desk, the high-backed chair behind it is partially turned away, concealing the figure in it.]

Ponygirl: Mr. President? I have your mircofilm.

[The figure in the chair doesn't move, but a hand can be seen stroking a white cat.]

The President of Prague: Excellent. Do you ever wonder why no one uses mircofiche anymore? It's such an amusing word to say. Rhymes with quiche.

Ponygirl: Yes, sir but I imagine there were misspellings. Sir, we may have a problem. A new player.

The President: Interesting. Perhaps it's related to this telex I received a few moments ago.

[Ponygirl picks up a piece of paper from the desk.]

Ponygirl: This isn't a telex, it's Post-It note with a scribbled message on it. What's a telex anyway?

The President: Telex sounds cooler, more international espionage-- just read it.

Ponygirl: Cjl is missing? Missing missing, not just can't make a decision at the video store for two hours missing? What does this mean?

[The chair swings around to reveal the President of Prague, the man some might call - Rob]

Rob/President: It means the end game has begun.

[There's a beat as this all sinks in]

Ponygirl: You don't have a clue what all this means do you?

Rob: Not really, but can you take the cat? I've got presidential stuff to do and Mr. Gato Magnifico needs his kibble.

[> [> [> Oh stop, stop! -- dub ;o), 18:35:42 01/05/04 Mon

I can't breath!! MWA-ha-ha-ha-ha!!


[> [> [> [> Re: No, no! Don't stop! Keep going! -- punkinpuss, 19:41:58 01/05/04 Mon

Rochefort and ponygirl, don't stop! And don't make us quiche-eaters either!

[> [> [> No comment. Still unconscious. -- cjl, 19:05:36 01/05/04 Mon

[> [> [> [> cjl -- Rochefort, 20:27:55 01/05/04 Mon

Thanks for your support by the way. I'm glad I painted you well. You're not flying back home in your helicopter by the way... you have other ideas.

[> [> [> [> [> Oh, wait--that was me commandeering the helicopter? -- cjl, 21:13:12 01/05/04 Mon

[Hand slaps forehead] Thwack! Of course it was.

Wow. Go me. I didn't even know I could fly a helicopter.

"Other purposes." Yes. (Rubs hands together evilly...)

[> [> [> [> [> [> Sorry bout that. It definitely could have been you getting re-re-kidnapped. Wasn't clear -- Rochefort, 21:22:21 01/05/04 Mon

[> [> [> [> [> [> even just reading the subject lines is lol-worthy! (if a bit confusing) -- anom, 22:28:04 01/05/04 Mon

Not that I'm reading just the subject lines--no quiche-eater I!

Easy on the thwacking there, cjl--you're already stunned. Or drugged...the posts can be a little confusing too.

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> heh heh. You're right. I just read them. Funny little conversation -- Rochefort, 23:28:05 01/05/04 Mon

[> [> [> Ponygirl!!! -- Rochefort, 20:26:10 01/05/04 Mon

You're brilliant. Thanks for writing. I laughed like crazy. I was running it around in my brain how I was going to get Rob in this story. He's perfect as the President of Prague. Nicely done! Big hugs! Mwah!

[> Hehehe, very nice, kinda makes me wish I'd joined this board earlier... -- angel's nibblet, 19:39:33 01/05/04 Mon

All it needs now is a cameo of me riding in on my unicorn- yay! ;-)

Or just the machine that goes BING!

[> [> angel's nibblet and former hippie girl.... -- Rochefort, 20:24:55 01/05/04 Mon

You two should totally be in the story. Give us some character traits to use for you. The unicorn is a good start.

[> [> [> charcter traits...? -- angel's nibblet, 20:43:42 01/05/04 Mon


nibblet is prone to:

*memory lapses
*running into things
*bursting out in show tunes
*jealous of anyone touching her unicorn, as people always seem to be running off with it
*going barefoot, hobbit/kiwi styles
*having domestics with her fiancee roche, but being otherwise cheerful

any more?

think a female, slightly more intelligent pippin and you'll be right ;-)

[> [> [> [> Hmmmm.... sounds good. Wait. Are you MY fiance? -- Rochefort, 21:12:12 01/05/04 Mon

[> [> [> [> [> Yet *another* fiancee?!?! How many of them are there?!? -- LittleBit [who got out when she could], 21:17:13 01/05/04 Mon

[> [> [> [> [> [> How long did you expect me to stay broken hearted over YOU!? -- Rochefort, 21:20:53 01/05/04 Mon

Don't worry. I'll make it all up to you with your part in the story. You're gonna love it. :P


[> [> [> [> [> [> [> Well, aren't you sweet? -- LittleBit [fluttering eyelashes], 00:36:05 01/06/04 Tue

And to answer your question... ten minutes!

[> [> [> [> Re: charcter traits...? -- jane (ex hippy chick with a horse), 19:22:42 01/06/04 Tue

Let me see now..ah, yes..
-good at organizing everyone but myself.
-procrastination is my middle name; I prefer to think of it as going with the flow.
-totally in love with horses, especially a black and white paint named Midnight. He believes he's a Unicorn, cause he heard someone call him a eunuch. Ready to ride out, Nibblet?
-long for adventure; too lazy to go looking for it.
-very handy in a crisis, especially if there's blood.(There's always blood). Can bandage up the grossest of wounds without barfing.
-a rebel's heart beats behind this middle aged woman's face. (Well, actually behind my ribcage, but you know what I mean.)
-wants to be Eowyn,but looks more like Sam,only taller,with better hair, and female.

[> [> [> [> [> Am set and ready to be the cavalry! -- angel's nibblet, 22:03:54 01/06/04 Tue

[> [> [> [> [> Damn, I wish I'd called Eowyn now *grumble* -- angel's nibblet, 00:49:14 01/09/04 Fri

[> [> CHAPTER 3 -- Troubling Pom-Poms -- Rochefort, 21:19:10 01/05/04 Mon

[Offices of the President of Prague. Ponygirl and President Rob stand looking over his desk at the notice about the disapearance of CJL.]

PONYGIRL: Who notified you about this?

ROB: Secret operative. Even I donÕt know who. Prague is a mysterious place. Plus, Kafka used to live here. Did you know that?

PONYGIRL: We should maybe find out who sent it. Perhaps whoever is responsible for the kidnapping wanted to make sure that you knew. But.... why you?

ROB: Well I am the President of Prague. Yay me!

PONYGIRL: (rolling her eyes.) All right. Listen, Rob, IÕm going incommunicado with the United Nations. They can do without me for awhile. This is my next mission.

ROB: If I order you to do it, it can be an offical mission of state.

PONYGIRL: Prague isnÕt a state. ItÕs a city.

ROB: Shhhhh, youÕre upsetting Miss Gato Fantastico.

PONYGIRL: Rob, try to stay focused for a second. I donÕt like the feel of this. WeÕve got to find CJL.

[CJL suddenly stumbles into the office, looking the worse for wear.]

CJL: Ponygirl. I found you.

PONYGIRL: How? This isnÕt one of those smelling things, is it? Cause...ew.

CJL: I overheard you were in Prague. I stole a helicopter and flew here. And Prague isnÕt that big.

ROB: I resent that.

CJL: Rob? What are you....

ROB: IÕm President of Prague. Small, pff. IÕm going to make us ÒEastern EuropeÕs Broadway!Ó

CJL: Ponygirl, thereÕs trouble. You both remember The Rescue?

PONYGIRL: [smiling fondly] Of course. ThatÕs what got me into the spy business in the first place. Boy was that all a bunch of hooey. Fun though.

CJL: Well MOLOJ is at it again. Apparantly Rochefort never disbanded it.

PONYGIRL: HeÕs trying to free the scoobies from JossÕs basement again?

CJL: I didnÕt quite understand all of it, but from what I get, heÕs trying to bring Buffy and the Scoobies BACK. He says itÕs ÒFor real.Ó Something about a machine.

PONYGIRL: Back? Like for a movie or something?

CJL: One guess I have? He wants to make them... corporal.

PONYGIRL: Good god.

ROB: Cool. Can he make Kennedy corporal, too? Cause IÕve seen her corporal in person and....

PONYGIRL: Can he do it?

CJL: I donÕt know. But IÕm more worried about the damage heÕll do trying. He said he needed my help. Said he couldnÕt do it without me. And when I refused, he drugged me and took me to Europe in a helicopter.

ROB: Man.... I knew the guy had weird ideas about musicals.... but I didnÕt know he was THAT far off the deep end.

CJL: He wants to reassemble the whole MOLOJ team. Which means you Ponygirl. And maybe you, Rob. HeÕs already got operatives here.

PONYGIRL: Oh THATÕS who those guys were. They were fighting Al-Queda.

CJL: They were?

PONYGIRL: Yeah and I had to deal with a few of them in an alley on the way here. Short work.

CJL: HeÕll keep trying. I donÕt know how many resources MOLOJ has now, but I know Rochefort plans to come to Prague himself to find you.

ROB: CJL, whatÕs so bad about trying to bring back the Scoobies? I miss them. I know MOLOJ doesnÕt play by the rules, but they did some good back in the day. And look.... fighting Al-Queda.

CJL: Rob, if Tara was here sheÕd tell you the same thing. It goes against the natural order. I donÕt know how he plans to do this, but it isnÕt right. I know that in my gut.

ROB: You know.... Rochefort troubles me. Even his ideas on Little Shop of Horrors trouble me. But heÕs not evil. Troubling though. Verrry verrry troubling.

CJL: Maybe he wasnÕt evil. Maybe he is now. I donÕt know. I donÕt know how he plans to do this. But what if he tampers with the imaginations of millions of millions of people. We ensured in The Rescue that the Scoobies would stay free and sacrosanct.... but now?

ROB: YouÕre defending the imagination of the masses?

PONYGIRL: I think thatÕs sexy.

CJL: Um.... married now.

PONYGIRL: Like spies care about that sort of thing.

CJL: (visibly effected, but recovers.) Are you two with me? Because I get the feeling weÕre either WITH MOLOJ or against them in this. I donÕt think heÕs going to leave us alone. Like, I think Rob has about a half a day to read this before he ends up eating quiche.

ROB: You know.... I am kind of getting hungry.

[Rob pets his cat, eyes suddenly alight. He goes to his closet and presses a hidden panel. It slides back revealing a show case....inside.... his old Pom-Poms.]

ROB: IÕm in. [He gives the pom-poms an anticipatory shake.]

PONYGIRL: So whatÕs RochefortÕs next move?

CJL: HeÕs in Paris. Trying to recruit HonorH.

PONYGIRL: Are you kidding? They couldnÕt stand to be in the same ROOM during the rescue. HonorH HATES Rochefort. SheÕll never help him. We donÕt have to worry about HonorH.

CJL: We can only hope youÕre right.

ROB: Before we do anything else, thereÕs the cutest little cafe down the street, guys wanna stop there for some lunch?

[> [> [> Now I really *am* troubled. You have way too much time on your hands. ;o) -- Rob, the President of Pragie, 11:22:54 01/06/04 Tue

Yay me!



[> [> [> [> *glerp* Prague I mean, not Pragie -- Rob, 11:23:58 01/06/04 Tue

[> [> [> [> [> Where have you gone, Vaclev Havel? -- cjl, 11:44:55 01/06/04 Tue

I remember touring the Presidential Palace in October 2002, proud to be visiting the Czech Republic during the last days in the presidential tenure of one of the giants in the fight for human dignity and freedom, Vaclev Havel.

After spraining my neck gazing up at the wonders of St. Vitus' Cathedral and wandering into the tourist trap that was Franz Kafka's childhood home, I felt secure that the Czechs would go forward in the post-Havel era as a leader in Central European culture and politics.

And now look what they've done.

Rob, for crying out loud? ROB? Is he even a citizen? And even if he is a good president, why isn't he running the rest of the country? Why just Prague? (I tell you, there's evil afoot here...)

[> [> [> [> [> [> Re: Where have you gone, Vaclev Havel? -- Arethusa, 12:19:22 01/06/04 Tue

Rob, for crying out loud? ROB? Is he even a citizen? And even if he is a good president, why isn't he running the rest of the country? Why just Prague? (I tell you, there's evil afoot here...)

Because he thought they said "fugue," not "Prague", and always wanted to be president of a fugue state?

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> Oh lordy!!! -- LittleBit [laughing], 15:15:58 01/06/04 Tue

My sides hurt!!

[> [> [> [> [> [> Where have you gone, Mr. President? -- Ann, 17:00:05 01/06/04 Tue

And here's to you, Mr. President
Joss loves you more than you will know (Wo, wo, wo)
MOLOJ bless you please, Mr. President
Mutant Enemy holds a place for those who annotate
(Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey)

We'd like to know a little bit about you for our files
We'd like to help you learn to help yourself
Look around you, all you see are sympathetic eyes
Cheer around the board since you are at home

And here's to you, Mr. President
Joss loves you more than you will know (Wo, wo, wo)
MOLOJ bless you please, Mr. President
Prague holds a place for those who play
(Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey)

Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes
Put it in your helicopter with your pom-poms
It's a little secret, just the Presidents' affair
Most of all, you've got to hide it from cjl.

Coo, coo, ca-choo, Mr. President
Joss loves you more than you will know (Wo, wo, wo)
MOLOJ bless you please, Mr. President
Heaven holds a place for those who play
(Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey)

Sitting around the keyboard on a Sunday afternoon
Going to the chat debate
Laugh about it, shout about it
When you've got to choose
Ev'ry way you look at it, you certainly never snooze.
Where have you gone, Masquerade
A board turns its lonely eyes to you (Woo, woo, woo)
What's that you say, Mr. President
Storytelling' Rochefort has left and gone to write.
(Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey)

Apologies to S&G. This just popped into my head,

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> Good lord. How often do you get a song written about you Rob? -- Rochefort, 17:27:02 01/06/04 Tue

I have disapeared! I hate it. I don't want to write applications and personal statements and master's essays. I want to finish this bloody story.

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> If it takes forever... -- dub ;o), 17:59:43 01/06/04 Tue

We will wait for you
For a thousand winters
We will wait for you

'Til you're here, and writing
'Til we're reading it
'Til the story's done
You'll be the one

(with apologies for the fact that probably no one but me remembers the tune...)


[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> That is soooo sweet. See? Now I have new inspiration to get my work done. -- Rochefort, 18:15:31 01/06/04 Tue

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Not true! -- Vickie, 09:18:29 01/07/04 Wed

Now I have THAT melody in my head. Good thing
it's a pleasant one. And the filk lyrics scan!

Nice job, dub!

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Thanks! -- ;o), 18:10:15 01/07/04 Wed

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> I am working on the rest of you too!! Mahawahahaha -- Ann, 18:02:00 01/06/04 Tue

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> S&G, eat your hearts out. Ann is our board songwriter supreme! -- jane, 19:33:16 01/06/04 Tue

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Re: S&G, eat your hearts out. Ann is our board songwriter supreme! -- No name, 19:50:01 01/06/04 Tue

Thanks. You can be my new best friend. And my kids are in bed so I can "write" this stuff. Boy this board is motivating. I do bow down before Rochefort and Ponygirl and cjl though. This is amazing stuff.

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> For Above -- Ann, there is no message checking, it posted anyway Beware!, 19:57:32 01/06/04 Tue

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> You can never have too many friends. Keep Writing, please! -- jane, 20:00:12 01/06/04 Tue

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> No bowing. If you bow, I will forget that I'm supposed to be writing grad school aps -- Rochefort, 23:53:15 01/06/04 Tue

[> [> [> [> This is what I do when I don't have ENOUGH time.... -- Rochefort, 11:52:52 01/06/04 Tue

My master's essay was due months ago and my applications for ph.d. programs are due in two days. So I sit down at the computer to write. To write to save my life, my career, my livilihood.... and what comes out is Buffy stories. :(


[> [> [> [> [> What?! For God's sake, Rochefort, finish your Master's essay! -- cjl, 12:01:34 01/06/04 Tue

FIRST RULE OF ATPo: RL crises trump the Board. No exceptions. (Right, Masq?) Finish the essay, apply for your PhD programs, then get back to us.

We can wait. Buffy and the others can wait. (They're literally not getting any older.)

[> [> [> [> [> [> Maybe this is his dissertation -- Pony, 13:30:34 01/06/04 Tue

Meta-narrative in the post-communist state? Group dynamics in collaborative art? Post-traumatic fan disorder: seizing the narrative or willful delusion - a psychosis reconsidered?

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> Pongirl, it is absolutely scary how close to being my dissertation those titles are. -- Rochefort, 14:12:00 01/06/04 Tue

I mean, honestly. That whole thing put together pretty much IS my dissertation. I'm a post-marxist and a writing instructor who teaches college students put together with middle school students to collaboratively write plays for their school variety show. And I teach a class for senior citizens on radio drama and we collaboratively write, produce and broadcast. All that put together is my dissertation. As for the post-trauma stuff... I don't write it... I just HAVE it.


[> [> [> [> [> [> Thankyou. I know. There is something seriously wrong with me. -- Rochefort, 14:13:29 01/06/04 Tue

[> [> [> [> [> [> agree, & a suggestion -- anom, 08:57:29 01/07/04 Wed

Just to be clear, Roche, what I agree with is "finish your essay," not that there's something seriously wrong with you. You just have a severe case of creative procrastination, something I'm all too familiar with (except my procrastination has more to do with reading other people's creative efforts here!).

What may help is using the fanfic writing as an incentive to do your essay writing. Set yourself a rule that you have to finish x pages of the essay before you write another chapter of the fanfic. If that's the requirement, you're more likely to get the essay written.

It's worked for me. For example, in an earlier freelance period, I was trying to arrange to get together with somebody while I was working on a freelance job. I only let myself call him again after I'd done another hour of work. (For the younger readers out there who are wondering why I say "again," this was in the long-ago time before answering machines, let alone cell phones, when you actually had to call someone later if you didn't reach them the 1st time...OK, feeling every one of those 50 years now!) By the time I reached him, I'd gotten a lot of work done. Maybe something like that could work for you. Besides, you gotta do something while you wait for the other writers to post their chapters!

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> It's true. But I have all these ideeeaaaas. -- Rochefort, 10:18:10 01/07/04 Wed

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> ...which will wait till you've finished that next batch of pages! now write 'em! -- anom, 22:09:22 01/07/04 Wed

And then write the next hilarious installment of "The Rescue...Revisited!" Don't worry, the ideeeeaaaas will still be there by then!

[> [> [> Still a big fan of the cjl/ponygirl 'ship! -- d'Herblay, 21:24:51 01/06/04 Tue

[> [> [> [> hmmmmmmm...... -- Rochefort, 22:29:47 01/06/04 Tue

[> [> [> [> Ours is a forbidden and largely non-existent love -- Pony, 06:54:00 01/07/04 Wed

[> [> [> [> [> "Largely" non-existent? -- cjl, 07:11:39 01/07/04 Wed

Did I miss something?

[> [> [> [> [> [> ;) -- Pony, 08:16:14 01/07/04 Wed

[> [> for those who joined us after the original "rescue" story... -- anom, 00:05:35 01/08/04 Thu

...here's the link! Enjoy!

The Rescue

And this one for the backstory.

But be careful...I got caught up rereading it, which is why I'm posting this so late!

[> [> [> Thanks for the link, anom... -- Jane, 02:15:50 01/08/04 Thu

I too got caught up in it, and am way too tired now! Nice refresher course. Now that the backstory and original rescue is firmly in my mind, I will enjoy the ride in this one. This is so much fun!! All you people are brilliant. I feel quite honoured to be included in such fine company. Come on, Midnight, your unicorn horn needs attaching. MOLOJ needs us!

[> [> [> Actually... I didn't remember the back story either. Sort of like "The Hobbit" -- Rochefort, 13:01:28 01/08/04 Thu

[> Interlude: Five Months Earlier -- cjl, 00:32:30 01/06/04 Tue

[Scene: Brooklyn, New York. Sixty days after The Rescue. Summertime, daytime. CJL is sitting on a bench overlooking the Great Lawn in Prospect Park. A few scattered groups of weekend athletes are playing volleyball or frisbee on the wide open grasslands. In the distance, CJL can see Little League teams practicing on the baseball diamond. The smell of barbecued chicken drifts over from the picnic areas. It's all very comforting, a world away from the world outside. ROCHEFORT approaches, lugging a large cloth carry-on bag, and sits down next to him.]

CJL: What took you so long?

ROCHEFORT: Couldn't lock your stupid door.

CJL: The copies don't work that well. I could lend you my keys if you want.

ROCHEFORT: Nah. That's OK. Won't be needing 'em much longer. Thanks for letting me crash for awhile.

CJL: No problem. You leaving?

ROCHEFORT: Yeah, might as well. I've seen all the sights, did all the tourist traps.

CJL: You know, I could show you parts of New York that nobody ever--

ROCHEFORT: I think it's time for me to go.

CJL (a bit confused): OK.

[CJL leans back against the bench; long silence.]

ROCHEFORT: It's nice out here.

CJL: I lucked out. Half a block away from my apartment. Every time I'm stressed out I can walk up to the park, sit down on this bench and the outside world just disappears.

ROCHEFORT: Escaping. [Pause.] We do a lot of that, don't we?

CJL: Excuse me?

ROCHEFORT: I mean, as sci-fi/fantasy geeks. Gotta find our own little worlds, our own comfortable corner of the universe.

CJL: Well...yeah. That's why we're all Buffy fans, right? The world is full of death and pain and incomprehensible forces beyond our control, and Joss gives us this beautiful metaphorical structure that actually makes sense out of the whole mess. We escape inside the Buffyverse, and Joss tells us our own stories in a way that puts things in perspective when we come out.

ROCHEFORT: I don't want to escape anymore.

CJL (the words not registering): You "don't want to escape anymore"?

ROCHEFORT: I don't want to retreat inside the fantasy anymore. It's not good enough. Every time I come back out into the real world, it's just as crappy as when I went in. I feel like I'm wasting my time.

CJL: But that's the whole point of great fantasy. You take the lessons you learn from art and you apply it to life. The writer does his part and you've gotta do the rest.

ROCHEFORT (with a dismissive wave of the hand): Yeah, yeah, Joseph Campbell, hero's journey, blah blah blah.


CJL: Rochefort--why did you come to New York?

ROCHEFORT: The usual. Visiting friends. Broadway shows. The Yankees. Was it too much of a problem putting me up?

CJL: No. It was great to see you. But... [CJL tries to find the words] I saw your notebook. [Before ROCHEFORT can react] It was an accident, I promise. But I know the people on that list. They're physics professors from NYU and Columbia University. Some of them wrote articles on quantum theory for Scientific American.

ROCHEFORT (trying to remain cool): So?

CJL: So you dropped in to have a nice, casual conversation with some of the greatest minds of the modern age about a topic you barely understand?

ROCHEFORT: Pretty much.

CJL: You wanna tell me what's going on?


[CJL is stunned by the bluntness of the response, and has to regroup before he can speak again.]

CJL: Whatever happened to "all for one, and one for all"?

ROCHEFORT: I'm not ready. It's just an idea right now, it's--you wouldn't understand.

CJL: I could try.

ROCHEFORT: You'd never go there.

CJL: "I'd never g--" What the hell are you talking about?

[ROCHEFORT gets up, and flips CJL his house keys.]

ROCHEFORT: Thanks for everything. You're a good friend. A lousy racketball player, but a good friend. I mean it.

CJL: Look--if you ever need any help, I'm here, OK?

ROCHEFORT (smiles): I appreciate it. [Starts to walk away] Don't be surprised if I take you up on that offer...

[> [> g.d. you, cjl. -- Rochefort, 01:43:23 01/06/04 Tue

You did it again. It's like I puke on paper, and you point out the Van Goh swirls and then touch them up and I'm like... yeah uh.... that's what I was trying to do. Just like I said in chapter one.

Truly, that was gorgeous in many ways. You caught most of my inspiration and impetus and gave "me" back to me so I could understand myself. (how's THAT for a compliment) That fantasy/reality frustration was exactly what I was trying to write about. But I'm still surprised that I got that across. Or I didn't get it across, but we just happened to see the same possibility. You even caught one of the tragic flaws I was trying to paint in "Rochefort" (borrowed, as you noticed, from three musketeers) individualism and isolation leading to badness in contrast to the collaboration, trust, and shared purpose that made the original "Rescue" a success. I was flailing about trying to paint that. And you anticipated things I was planning for later. Plus, I sound like me and you don't even know me. Plus, the conversation as a conversation between two male friends is real and... dare I say in this homophobic world... touching.

I tollllllllld you the story needed you. Thanks.


[> [> This is all just wonderful but ya'll are worrying me. -- Arethusa, 08:45:20 01/06/04 Tue

Rochefort, honey, think about what you're doing! The Shipper Wars have have started to dribble to a close at last; the Snarkists and Redemptionists are working their weary way home, crossing mountains and rivers to return to their impatient families, and you want to start the war all over again by resurecting the characters who have gone to their reward? Plus, you're going to have to get past Joss, who has finally caught up on his sleep and doesn't want to shoulder the burden of two shows and a movie. Think of his wife and baby! Think of the Firefly fans, who take great pride in shooting their enemies with their eyes closed while cursing in Mandarin!

[> [> [> This is my resolved face. You've seen it before....you know what it means.... -- Rochefort, 11:56:03 01/06/04 Tue

[> [> [> (Sigh of acceptance.) Godspeed. May the Farce be with you. -- Arethusa, 12:14:10 01/06/04 Tue

[> [> [> [> CJL!!!! WRITE MY PERSONAL STATEMENT! (please?) -- Rochefort, 23:55:50 01/06/04 Tue

It's 3 in the morning for the second night in a row. Just throw something together about my reason for being and my reason for getting a Ph.D. in Composition and Rhetoric. I promise never to drug you again. You'll do it so well! I will sound very inspiring, I know.

[> [> [> [> 3 in the morning, this is what I have so far: -- Rochefort, 00:10:22 01/07/04 Wed

I was born Rochefort A. Jenkins on the Fourth of July and don't think there weren't jokes about THAT my whole life mister cause there were. Who's our little patriot, they'd say.
I fight with weapons. I know studying English is evil...but darn its sinister charm. I would be a good student. I think we should be listening to the other Rochefort. He's very smart.
Thank you for your consideration,


[> [> [> [> [> Can't write it, but I could edit it. You have my e-mail address above. -- cjl, 07:32:57 01/07/04 Wed

[> [> [> [> [> [> I appreciate that. So far I still don't have anything.... tick....tick...tick... -- Rochefort, 18:11:46 01/07/04 Wed

[> [> Postinterlude: Two Months Later, or Three Months Earlier, Depending On Your Point Of View -- d'Herblay, 02:03:25 01/07/04 Wed

[Scene: an oak-panelled office. The walls are lined with bookshelves; the sun streams through the window illuminating a terrarium. ROCHEFORT lies on a couch, his fingers steepled. Across from him sits DARBY, frowning, making notes on a steno pad.]

ROCHEFORT: It's not so much that I can't tell the difference between reality and fiction, doc. I mean, I know that this is real and that all that MOLOJ stuff was just words, but there's just this feeling I have, like have you ever walked into a bathroom and reached over your head for the light cord? Only, there isn't a light cord, the light works by a switch always has, you know that. But somehow you feel there should be a cord. It's more real somehow. It's like that.

DARBY: Mmmm. So Buffy is somehow more real to you than reality?

ROCHEFORT: No, it's not Buffy, not really. This isn't what you called "Drizzt's Syndrome." It's MOLOJ itself. It's like when I'm mobilizing MOLOJ, I'm building something bigger than myself. But when I write my thesis . . .

DARBY: You write your thesis alone, right? But your fantasies depend on the participation of others.

ROCHEFORT: Yeah. When cjl -- you know cjl, right? He said that you helped him a lot when he couldn't get over Anya's death -- when cjl, and ponygirl, and HonorH join in, we're doing something more.

DARBY: So it's not really the fantasy, so much as the fantasy, the meta-fantasy if you will, of having others participate in, expand on, and validate your fantasies that really matters.

ROCHEFORT: Yeah . . .

DARBY: It's sort of a folie a quartre. But you're anxious that it's all falling apart.

ROCHEFORT: Well, I'm sure ponygirl would be game, but HonorH never liked me to begin with, and she's got a nasty streak in her. Something almost demonic just comes out when she's near me. And cjl . . . I just can't tell. I don't know if he really wants to join in. There's this part of him that's into it, and then it almost seems that part of him is just concerned. I think he thinks I'm a little crazy. Am I crazy, doc? Is this all just some mad crusade?

DARBY: (Refers to his notes.) This is not your first crusade. Tell me about Marti Noxon.

ROCHEFORT: I hated her. I thought she was out to ruin Buffy.

DARBY: And that changed. What was it that changed that?

ROCHEFORT: (Embarassed.) Ummm, it was when the CD of "Once More, With Feeling" came out.


ROCHEFORT: That line she sang, "I'm not wearing underwear" . . .

DARBY: And have you always been fascinated by women without underwear?

ROCHEFORT: Umm, yeah. I mean, no more than most guys.

DARBY: Tell me about your mother.

ROCHEFORT: My mother? What's my mother got to do with this?

DARBY: It's a simple request.

ROCHEFORT: I don't see how my mother comes into any of this!

DARBY: (Jots down something on his notepad.) I'm skeptical that you're truly committed to your therapy.

ROCHEFORT: I don't know what would give you that impression!

DARBY: Well, for one thing, I think someone in your position who really wanted to get better would seek qualified help, and I'm not a psychologist. I'm a herpetologist.

ROCHEFORT: (Befuddled.) I can assure you, Doctor, that that is not one of my problems . . .

DARBY: I'm going to recommend that you check yourself into our clinic, just for observation. (He reaches to his intercom and presses a button.)

ROCHEFORT: Is that really necessary? I've got rehearsal tonight, and Batboy just doesn't persecute himself.


DARBY: I think you'll find it very therapeutic.

(The two orderlies grab Rochefort, who starts to scream and struggle.)

ROCHEFORT: You bastard! I trusted you!

DARBY: Would you like a hamster? Most of my patients like a hamster. It makes the medicine go down smoother.

(One of the orderlies injects Rochefort with a hypodermic needle filled with a GLOWING GREEN LIQUID. Rochefort's struggles begin to lose intensity.)

DARBY: We'll make sure that you have a comfortable room, one as far away from that Boke fellow as possible.

(As Rochefort's body goes limp, the two orderlies drag him from the office. Darby picks up the telephone. He dials -- a lot of numbers, maybe an international call? After a moment, he begins to speak.)

DARBY: He's been secured. . . . You know, he believes it's all a fantasy. . . . Oh, he's really quite insane. He's just not delusional. . . . Do you know he sincerely wants to bring them back? . . . No, of course we can't let that happen, not if it's going to be more of those awful speeches. . . . Muddled characterization. . . . Yeah, yeah, too much screen time for him, too. . . . But, yes, his technology does work. . . . Yes. . . . Yes. . . . Yes, we can use it to stop Joss. . . . We can go back. . . . We can go back and prevent "Lies My Parents Told Me."

(Fade to Black.)

[> [> [> Oh my lord. -- Rochefort, 10:28:51 01/07/04 Wed

I went to bed at 5'oclock in the morning two nights in a row. My only meal today so far is a stale candy cane. Your chapter has induced in me a fit of hysterical laughing followed by paranoia and confusion....then helplesslness and rocking.

:) Best high I've had in some time.

[> [> [> ::Applauds:: Bravissimo! At last, the truth is told. -- Random, 12:30:05 01/07/04 Wed

[> [> [> [> Chapter 4 -- A Fellowship of Misfits -- Rochefort, 12:58:10 01/07/04 Wed

O.k., I had to take a break and write this. My apologies to the eaters of fashion for my ignorance and mostly to our fine ATPoBTVS minstrel, Ann. If I was capable of writing betters songs I would have.

[A very large hand is wrapped around RochefortÕs neck, and he is slammed into a wall.]

ROCHEFORT: [Gasp] [Gag]


[RochefortÕs hair is blown by a foul wind]

[Cut To: A wintery landscape of bright blue and white. Snow flakes that look as if they have been cut out of paper whirl about the screen in patterns. The camara pans to a friendly looking snow man with a beard, mustache, hat, and scarf]

SNOWMAN: Yesssss, poor Rochefort had gotten himself in quite a fix. For he had awoken .... Abominable.

[Cut To: Rochefort, suspended in the air, struggling vainly to remove the hands from his throat.]

SNOWMAN: [V.O.] Of course I havenÕt yet explained how Rochefort came upon Abominable in the first place.

[Cut To: Wintery landscape. Snowman.]

SNOWMAN: When last we heard from Rochefort, he was still intent on his quest and was trying to bring together the former team of companions who had once performed such feets of glory. His next stop, the Halls of Fashion, to find Honor H.

[Cut To: The Halls of Fashion. HonorH is hurriedly trying to alphbatize some dresses. There are crates full of fashion and a Christmas tree.]

CALVIN KLEIN: [As he passes through the room] You there. Fashion wench. Hurry with those dresses. How will we ever find the oneÕs we need if they arenÕt in alphabetical order! And get that Christmas tree down and out of here.... its cliche and passe.

HONORH: Yes, sir. IÕm ... hurrying....

[HonorH turns from the rack of dresses to open another crate of fashion and comes face to face with Rochefort.]

ROCHEFORT: Hi, darling.

HONORH: Oh, god. Rochefort, get out of my way. I have work to do.

ROCHEFORT: You arenÕt surprised to see me?

HONORH: You donÕt matter to me enough for me to be surprised, Rochefort. Get lost.

ROCHEFORT: Listen, I need your help. IÕm reassembling the MOLOJ team.

HONORH: [stopping her motion] Ponygirl? CJL? Rob? The others?

ROCHEFORT: Um.... yep.

HONORH: How are those guys!?

ROCHEFORT: Uh....goo...theyÕre good. WeÕre all gonna meet. Probably. Back at my chateau. You should come. Big mission. Very exciting.

HONORH: Rochefort, IÕd love to see Ponygirl and the rest but.... IÕve got... important fashion things to do. But if theyÕre going to be in France, tell them to stop by, o.k.? See you later, Rochefort. [She walks by him.]

ROCHEFORT: (solemnly) IÕm trying to bring Buffy back.

HONORH: I donÕt give a ratÕs ass what crazy scheme youÕve concocted, Rochefort.

ROCHEFORT: I... kind of figured youÕd feel that way. ItÕs a pity. I guess IÕll have to get someone else to help me.


ROCHEFORT: Someone more likely to hear my story with some empathy.


ROCHEFORT: Someone with an interest in schemes that might possibly maybe be a tiny bit evil.

HONORH: Great. Good luck.

ROCHEFORT: Someone with better fashion sense than you.

HONORH: Hey.... who are we talking about?

[Rochefort splashes HONORH with a red liquid.]

HONORH: What the.... you creep! That was a hand woven.... polo....blazer....gorgio aramani....thingy... [Notices the liquid is giving off a terrible smell.] Gawd....what is this stuff?

ROCHEFORT: A little compound I had whipped up for me. Works on werewolves to keep them in their wolf like state past the full moon.... I figured.....

HONORH: Oh you didnÕt. [Then shrugs] Well.... youÕre funeral.

[HonorH suddenly morphs to three times her former size (and beauty, and charm, and wit) and promptly grabs Rochefort by the throat and slams him against the wall]

[Cut To: Wintery landscape. Snowman]

SNOWMAN: Yessir, Rochefort had awoken Abominable. Good thing his assistant Dirk, the former communist, was nearby. He rushed to RochefortÕs aid.]

[Cut to: Halls of Fashion. Dirk rushes to RochefortÕs aid. Honorificus holds Rochefort with one hand, and with the other snaps off DirkÕs head, reaches over to her left, and hangs it from a bow on the Halls of Fashion Christmas Tree. Then she alphbatizes DirkÕs body with the dresses, grabs the Christmas tree, and throws it through the roof of the building letting in the wintery French air.]

ROCHEFORT: [Gasp] [Wheez]

HONORIFICUS: Hm? CanÕt hear you.

SNOWMAN: [V.O.] Rochefort was starting to lose consciousness. Night was falling inside his head, but itÕs sometimes at moments like those.... that dawn...um....right before the dark...comes. Out of his periphery vision, through the hole in the roof that Abominable had made.... he thought he saw a tiny glowing red light in the sky. And then....could it be? The sound of tiny little hoof steps on the roof.



SNOWMAN: [V.O.] Yes, just then, two small hobbit looking women on two small unicorns swooped into the room through the hole in the roof. One of them was carrying the glowing red head of Dirk.



SNOWMAN: [V.O.] And the unicornÕs alit on the ground and started prancing around in a circle on the floor of the Hall of Fashion storeroom while the two hobbit women danced on their backs.

HONORIFICUS: What the hell?



[Honorificus shrieks, or more bellows really.... and drops Rochefort to the ground where he collapses trying to breathe.]

HONORIFICUS: The lord himself has never created a creature more....sickiningly ...shiningly... disgustingly....GOOD. And yet at the same time....so terribly, maddeningly, stickily....gauche. I feel like the knick nacks in my grandmotherÕs house all got together to take revenge on me. IÕm being attacked by hummels on unicorns. Satan save me.

JANE: Hey.... shut it, lady.

[AngelÕs NibbletÕs unicorn rides forward and stabs her in the thigh with its horn.]


ANGELÕS NIBBLET: That was a um....accident....woah unicorny....wooahhhhh.....

ROCHEFORT: [Looking up from the ground] IÕll call them off if you agree to hear me out!

JANE: Did he say heÕd call us off? Who does he....

ANGELÕS NIBBLET: wooaaahhhh....

[AngelÕs Nibblet rolls backward off her unicorn and falls on her head.]

HONORIFICUS: Good, yes, fine. Just get them away from me. Even your boring prattling would better than these figurines.

ROCHEFORT: IÕm on a quest.


ROCHEFORT: ItÕs an um.... an EVIL quest.

HONORIFICUS: Oh sure it is. .... really?

ROCHEFORT: Yes. I plan to disrupt the natural order of things.


JANE: Hey. We found this head outside. WhereÕs the body?

ROCHEFORT: Not alone, no. But it is a great and magnificent evil quest that could only be truly accomplished by Honorificus herself.

SNOWMAN: Now, Abominable had very few weaknesses. And flattery was it.

ANGELÕS NIBLET: This might be the body for the head, you think?.... hanging in the dresses over this pool of blood.

ROCHEFORT: I know youÕve always hated Buffy and the Scooby gang.... but ever since theyÕve been gone, you havenÕt had anyone to write your effulgent Super Evil Review about.


ROCHEFORT: But if we brought them back, you could subject them to torture and then.... write a review on it.

HONORIFICUS: Bring them back?

ROCHEFORT: Mhm. For real.

HONORIFICUS: Giles, too?

ROCHEFORT: Giles naked.


JANE: [Dragging the body] Bring me my medical bag, would you Nib?

ANGEL'S NIBBLET: Why is he glowing like that?

JANE: [Looking in the head's mouth] He swallowed a christmas tree light.

ROCHEFORT: What else are you spending your time doing? (gestures at the crates of fashion).

HONORIFICUS: O.k., IÕm in. But are the unicorns and the hummels coming?

ANGELÕS NIBBLET: Coming where?

JANE: Hey, buddy.... I taped your friendÕs head back on.

ROCHEFORT: ThatÕs....great.

ANGELÕS NIBBLET: Jane, I think weÕre going on an adventure.

JANE: (deep sigh) I donÕt know. Could we catch a rest first? We were flying our unicorns in the sky for like an hour. The only way IÕd come is if it was a really rebellious quest.

ROCHEFORT: WeÕre going to disrupt the natural order.

JANE: O.k., IÕm in. Do you want your friend? IÕm done.

[She gestures at the limp form of Dirk. His head taped back on.]

HONORIFICUS: IÕll take him. HeÕs kind of cute. Just needs a little jujjing. [She jujjes Dirk, then folds him in half and puts him in her napsack.]

[Cut to: The street outside the Halls of Fashion. A woman sits on the curb with a hat in front of her, strumming a lute.]

ANN: (singing) Raaahhb Raaaaahb....heÕs not a snaaaahb. [Seeing Rochefort] Got a quarter for a song about the President of Prague? Praaague praaague good place to snog.

ROCHEFORT: (stops dead. looks at her.) Are you by any chance a bard?

ANN: Maybe.

ROCHEFORT: I might have need of the services of one such as yourself. Come with us. IÕll pay you.

ANN: Payyy payyyyy that sounds okaayyyy.


JANE: How come we donÕt get paid?

ROCHEFORT: YouÕre doing it out of idealism.

ANGELÕS NIBBLET: Plus, IÕm his fiance.

[Cut to: Wintery Landscape.]

SNOWMAN: And so, Rochefort, Abominable, the two unicorns (one of them fake), the two hobbit hummels, the traveling bard and the former communist with his head taped on, made their way back to RochefortÕs chateau. Yes, one problem had been defeated.... but the troubles of this band of misfits were just beginning.....

[> [> [> [> [> How did you know that only children and the deaf like my singing!! lol -- Ann, 14:34:41 01/07/04 Wed

My kids keep asking what I am laughing about. To quote one of them: "Oh cool, Mommy is in the story"

I just love a quest. I don't get many of them except to find lost toys or finding lost personal statements from my grad students!!! Yes indeed. Can we go to the Island of Misfit toys? Or to a Misfits concert? Are they still around?

[> [> [> [> [> [> A Quest?! I'm in!!! *jumps on unicorn and rides into the sunset* -- angel's nibblet, 13:10:20 01/08/04 Thu

Yay for hobbits! Hobbits of the world unite!

Any excuse for an adventure eh.

Keep up the good work Roche!

[> [> [> [> [> Hey Midnight! We're famous!... -- Jane, 18:54:16 01/07/04 Wed

OMG,Rochefort,that may be the funniest adventure I have had yet. My computer screen needs some serious cleaning - Midnight spit his hay all over it from all the laughing.
Hummels on unicorns? Now that's just...neat.

[> [> [> [> [> [> ok, lemme try my hand at this... (no, not the writing! the songs!) -- anom, 20:30:12 01/07/04 Wed

Paris it sizzles, or will tout de suite
Hummels on unicorns, that's just neat!

Um...that's all I got. Can't even remember the rest of the original. I'll just be over here trying to salvage my filksong credentials....

[> [> [> [> [> Re: Chapter 4 -- A Fellowship of Misfits -- dub ;o), 07:02:03 01/08/04 Thu

Ah, but are they humble Hummel hobbits?

[> [> [> [> [> [> LOL! -- Rochefort, 13:03:23 01/08/04 Thu

[> [> [> [> [> [> Humble? lil ol' moi? (waving to the fans), but of course! -- Jane, 17:52:17 01/08/04 Thu

[> [> [> [> [> It figures.... -- Masq, 14:48:44 01/08/04 Thu

That Rochefort would forget "Angel the Series" even exists. Of course Honorificus still has episodes to write her Super Evil Review about! It's just quarterly instead of weekly.

And I suppose I'm driving the van again?

[> [> [> [> [> [> I was getting to the part where we ASK you to drive the van....metaphorically. -- Rochefort, 17:44:59 01/08/04 Thu

of course.... we need to find a side for you. The unicorn side or the side of pom poms.


[> [> [> [> [> [> [> Rochefort, get back to work on your thesis. I'm taking over here... -- cjl, 18:23:24 01/08/04 Thu

Chapters Five and Six coming up tonight. International espionage, impromptu fashion reviews, metanarration, and unicorn folk dancing in Prague, Paris, and Vienna. More details of Rochefort's master plan revealed. A surpise guest star.

Masq, tomorrow morning, I'd like to re-post all six chapters and the interludes to a new thread, because this sucker's about to eat the board. (Once I've created the new thread, this one can go to the archives.)

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Re: Rochefort, get back to work on your thesis. I'm taking over here... -- Jane, 18:30:06 01/08/04 Thu

Oh, goody! I was thinking about going to see LOTR again tonight, but Unicorn dancing in Prague? You just have to stay home to see that! Eagerly sitting by the computer,we are - just me and my unicorn. Here,Twinkletoes, let me polish those hooves...

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Poor you :-S -- angel's nibblet, 20:57:50 01/08/04 Thu

RotK or dancing unicorn folk being ridden by kamikaze hobbits? Tough decision...

Help me think of a snappy name for my unicorn, something to match Midnight. How about Lunchtime? Hmmmm maybe not....no, definitely not!

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> You two are great characters. I'm glad I wrote you. -- Rochefort, 21:21:07 01/08/04 Thu

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Have to agree with you there :-D!!! Hobbits are great, though I should warn you... -- angel's nibblet, 00:46:40 01/09/04 Fri

...in the end I may leave you for Frodo. Sorry, gotta stick to my own species. Our relationship was doomed from the start *sniffle* Oooooo I forsee a "Casablanca"-style ending. Not that I've ever seen that movie....which is shocking if you ask me.

Oh yeah: and no, you can't have your ring back precioussss ;-)

Yeah I'm done now...

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Name that unicorn! -- Jane, 22:36:26 01/08/04 Thu

Let's see.. how about Starlight? Starbright? First star I see..oh,sorry, slipping into childhood nursery rhymes..
Obviously we must have a dignified name for your unicorn. Perhaps something like, fantastic fabulous horned one (Fanny for short). Sorry, my bad.

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Take it, cjl. Can't wait to see it. -- Rochefort, 21:25:13 01/08/04 Thu

You've MOLOJ'S trust. And I'm exhausted and don't want to go back to Darby's padded cell. I've gotten no sleep the last few days, but turned in an application to the University of Pittsburgh last night. phew. Three more to go. Anyway, I hope to rejoin the fray soon. Ponygirl, you gonna write another chapter?

[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Chapter 5 done. Will post tomorrow morning. Working on Chapter 6... -- cjl, 22:56:11 01/08/04 Thu

And Masq, your objections to Honorificus' fuzzy motivations in joining Rochefort WILL be addressed in Chapter 6...

[> Chaper V: The Synchronicity Engine -- cjl, 06:38:21 01/09/04 Fri

[Office of the President of Prague. CJL, PONYGIRL, and ROB are back from lunch.]

PONYGIRL (to ROB): Gotta hand it to you, Mr. President. That was amazing. IÕve never tasted roast duck that tender in my entire life.

CJL: Not surprised. That restaurant is one of the best in the Mala Strana.

ROB: The where?

CJL: Mala Strena--Czech for "lesser quarter"?

ROB: Oh. Right. Of course. And it's got a wonderful view of that big river.

PONYGIRL: The Vlatava.

ROB: The VlatawhateverÉ.yeah.

CJL: Can we get back to work now? I get the feeling weÕre running out of time.

ROB: What, no dessert?

PONYGIRL: IÕm full, thanks. [To CJL] From what youÕve been telling us, Rochefort was working on his master plan for two years before he decided to bring in the old team. That means one of two things: either heÕs run into a roadblock, and he needs our helpÑ

CJL: Or heÕs finished whatever heÕs working on and he wants us in on the grand opening.

PONYGIRL: I think IÕm going with the second option. RochefortÕs not the kind of guy who admits to roadblocks.

CJL: That means weÕre probably too late.

PONYGIRL: Well, if we keep standing around here waiting for him to make his next move, heÕs beaten us already.

CJL: So what do you suggest?

PONYGIRL: We have to find out exactly what kind of technology heÕs got his greedy little hands on, what it looks like, what it can do. [Looks around; to Rob] Rob, is there a computer in this place?

[Rob presses a button underneath his desk, and the faux bookcase on the right wall slides back to reveal a sixties-style IBM computer mainframe.]

CJL (nodding): Retro. Cool.

[Ponygirl stares at the computer in disbelief.]

PONYGIRL: O-kay. [Shakes it off; to Rob] If this thing is capable of searching the internet, check to see if anybody with any credentials in physics or--

CJL: Psychology?

PONYGIRL: --or psychology has proposed anything like what Rochefort was talking about.

CJL: Cross-reference "quantum physics" and "fictional characters."

PONYGIRL: Or "collective unconscious."

ROB: Will do. Lemme get my punch cardsÉ.

[Ponygirl sighs in exasperation, and slumps into the chair in front of RobÕs desk.]

CJL: DonÕt let it get to you.

PONYGIRL: I just canÕt get used to the shifts in tone. Is this fanfic a psychological study, a James Bond-type espionage drama, or a farce?

CJL: All three, actually. But donÕt worry about it; youÕre doing beautifully.

PONYGIRL (looks up at him): Look--I appreciate the support, but I donÕt think I can handle the innocent flirtation thing right now. Could we just meta-narrate this part and get it over with?

CJL: Oh. Sure. You wanna start off?

PONYGIRL: OK. I make a comment about your courage and determination that shows my admiration and respect for you despite your aging, Danny Strong-type physique.

CJL: Then I respond by complimenting your kick-ass abilities as a superspy and show that IÕm not threatened by a powerful woman.

PONYGIRL: Gracious acknowledgment with girlish lilt at the end.

CJL: Reaffirmation of long-standing friendship with slight innuendo attached.

PONYGIRL: Acceptance with hint of UST.

ROB: Excuse me, are you guys done?

[CJL and Ponygirl glance at each other.]

CJL & PONYGIRL (to Rob): WeÕre done.

PONYGIRL (to CJL): Do you think that last bit of dialogue will convince DÕHerblay to SHUT UP about "us"?

CJL: Nobody convinces dÕH to shut up.

ROB: Guys? Print-out comingÉ.

[CJL and Ponygirl walk over to the computer, where Rob is scanning results printed on a continuous roll of perforated paper.]

ROB: NoÉ.no, thatÕs just crazyÉoh, hell noÉooooh. Interesting. I think we have a winner. [Rob tears off the winning entry along the dotted line and passes it to CJL.]

CJL: "Freeing the Imagination: Quantum Applications of Jungian Theory." Karl Wohlmann, University of Vienna. September 1999. Oh my god. This is it.

PONYGIRL: Are you sure?

CJL: Absolutely. He says he wants to "liberate the dreams of man from their metaphorical prison." He talks about the collective unconscious as parallel universe, accessible by manipulation of quantum states. [Scans further down] He says hisÑgod, the translation sucks hereÑI think itÕs "engine of synchronicity" will bring about a new golden age.

PONYGIRL (almost to herself): Wohlmann. Sounds familiar.

ROB: Sounds like a nutbar.

CJL: Maybe, but Rochefort seems to be taking him very seriously. [Frantically scans the rest of the article] Dammit! He doesnÕt include a blueprint. Or specs.

ROB: Maybe we can ask him personally.

[Ponygirl has a "eureka" moment.]

PONYGIRL: No, we canÕt. I just rememberedÑInterpol was going crazy about this case eighteen months ago. Wohlmann disappeared from the University, along with his file cabinet, his office computer, his HOME computer, and any piece of paper on his desk that wasnÕt nailed down.

CJL: You gotta give Rochefort creditÑheÕs thorough.

ROB: Now what do we do?

PONYGIRL: Easy. We go to Vienna anyway. We interview WohlmannÕs secretary, his wife, his colleagues, his dog, anybody who might have access to his work, who could give us an idea of what the hell this "engine" looks like.

CJL: I think weÕve got a plan.

ROB: Let me get my coat.

CJL: Got a spare? It was freezing on the ride over.

[CJL walks over to the closet just behind RobÕs desk, and before Rob can say a word, he opens the door. CJL reviews the array of coats on the rack and pulls out two cashmere-lined belted raincoats. Then he looks down, and sees a woman, bound and gagged, sitting on an overturned metal bucket. Upon closer examination, he realizes itÕs Renee OÕConnor, Gabrielle from Xena: Warrior Princess. OÕConnor emits a muffled cry for help, and extends her tightly-bound hands, her eyes pleading for assistance. CJL slams the door, his face frozen in shock.]

PONYGIRL: Are we ready?

CJL: Uh, yeah.

PONYGIRL: IÕll warm up the Ôcopter. [Exits.]

[CJL, still in shock, hands Rob his coat.]

ROB: It never leaves this room.

[CJL nods slowly.]

[Cut to: RochefortÕs chateau, just outside of Paris. Rochefort, Honorificus, and Ann are sitting in the music room, Rochefort at his desk, Ann warming up on the harpsichord and Honorificus perchedÑincongruously and precariously--on a velvet-backed antique divan. Rochefort is absorbed in his laptop and Honorificus looks like sheÕs ready to explode into violence at a momentÕs notice. Through the window, we see angelÕs nibblet and Jane running their unicorns around the figures in the topiary garden.]

ROCHEFORT (not looking up; to Honorificus): Be careful. ThatÕs a genuine Louis Quatorze.


ROCHEFORT: Not sure it can support your weight.

HONORIFICUS (scowls): Really?

[Honorificus rises to herÉ.feet, I guessÉ.and glances down at the exquisite piece of French craftsmanship.]

HONORIFICUS: Might not support my weight, you say?

[Honorificus rams one of her fists through the center of the divan with the power of a hydraulic press, cleanly breaking the divan in two.]

HONORIFICUS (grins evilly): Guess not.

ROCHEFORT (still not looking up): Was that really necessary?

HONORIFICUS: Bored now. If you donÕt give me something to do, youÕre going to have refurnish this entire chateau.

ROCHEFORT: Patience. IÕm waiting for my contact to check in. Listen to some music.

HONORIFICUS (glares balefully at Ann): If you call that music.

[Ann finishes warming up and launches into a traditional favorite:]

ANN (singing): Alas, my love, you do me wrong
To cast me off discourteously
And I have loved you for so long
Delighting in your company
Greensleeves was all my joy
Greensleeves was my delight
Greensleeves my heart of gold
And who but my Lady Greensleeves

[To HonorificusÕ utter horror, the unicorns are drawn to the window by the sound of the harpsichord; Midnight and Morningstar move in perfect union with the refrain, prancing three steps to the left, then prancing three steps to the right, all with Jane and angelÕs nibblet balanced on their backs. Ann finishes the refrain, and Jane and angelÕs nibblet curtsy to formally close the first verse.]

HONORIFICUS: Give me strength. Demons of the pit, give me strengthÉ.

ANN (singing): I have been ready at your hand
To grant whateÕer you would crave
I have both waged life and land
You love and good will to have
Greensleeves was all my joy
Greensleeves was my delight
Greensleeves my heart of gold
And who but my Lady Greensleeves

[Rochefort sways to the music. Jane and angelÕs nibblet sway to the music. The unicorns sway to the music. Honorificus looks like sheÕs about to projectile vomit, but then, inexplicably, even SHE starts to sway to the music. She catches herself and lets out a hideous, blood-curdling scream. Ann is startled and the music stops; the unicorns wander away from the window.]

ROCHEFORT (still looking at his laptop): Bingo. (To Honorificus) In the mood for some travel?

HONORIFICUS: IÕd take Disneyworld about now.

ROCHEFORT: How about Vienna?

HONORIFICUS: AdolphÕs old stomping grounds? I am SO there. [Thinks for a minute] IÕll need a bit of camouflage. I donÕt exactly blend in.

ROCHEFORT: Let me see what I can doÉÉ

[Cut to: an office in Albany, New York. DARBY dials the same number he dialed in the post-interlude, and waits patiently for the other end to pick up.]

ENGLISH VOICE: This had better be important.

DARBY: The players are in motion. WeÕre approaching the end game.

E.V.: Excellent. Any progress on the engineÕs location?

DARBY: Not yet. But IÕm sure one side or the other will lead us to it.

[Cut to: a study in London. We see a figure, cloaked in shadow, holding the receiver of a late Victorian-era telephone.]

E.V.: I donÕt need to tell you, Darby, that the Consortium will not tolerate failure in this matter. The stakes are simply too high.

[The figure leans forward, into the light. ItÕs TCHAIKOVSKY.]

TCH: Only the best and the brightest amongst us should have the right to control mankindÕs dreams.

[> [> Just to note -- Tchaikovsky, 10:05:31 01/09/04 Fri

TCH: Only the best and the brightest amongst us should have the right to control mankindÕs dreams.

That's exactly the kind of pretentious nonsense I would say! And it's starting to sound like His Dark Materials, which has to be a good thing.


[> [> Yay! -- Pony, 10:31:30 01/09/04 Fri

Very well done!

Of course there's nothing like a note of wistful finality to fan the flames of a 'ship. Damn our smoldering chemistry!

Gabby in the closet? Is this the emergence of Dark!Scruffy!Rob?

[> [> [> Dark!Scruffy!Rob emerged at DragonCon -- LittleBit, 10:55:02 01/09/04 Fri

I shouldn't be surprised if he has Iyari in his closet at home.

[> [> I just call it as I see it -- d'Herblay, 10:40:06 01/09/04 Fri

Though I should admit that I think that cjl would probably show UST with the proverbial cinder block.

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