Friday, December 05, 2003

In one hour I plan on watching the Fellowship of the Rings on the Big Screen in the intended Extended edition. I know it's doomed, because it's a fucking chain called Lowes. I miss my old movie house. The Warren East. God what a beautiful theatre.

Here's some junk i found on my hard drive. It's crap mostly but it show's I've been trying to write lately.

Willow’s New Car
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Transformers Crossover


Willow Rosenberg – The Witch
Bumblebee – The Autobot

Guest appearances by Xander – The Zeppo and Oz – The Boyfriend Werewolf.

By Evil Brendan

This is somewhere during the middle of the 3rd season.

“It’s my thing,” Xander said. “The thing that makes me unique. I’m Car Guy!”
“But I want to be car guy, or girl. Witchy car girl. I’m old enough. I passed the class, Oz and Xander have cars I should too. Shouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know, Will.” Willow’s best friend in the world next to Xander who she was shunning and Oz who she was groveling for walked beside her in the cool breeze of the 8th or 9th graveyard in Sunnydale. “Remember what happened when I drove?”
“Tried to drive, you mean? I know, Buffy, but I can handle it. I’m prepared. I’m, well, what’s a word for more prepared than others, I dunno but that’s me.” Willow continued her walk and missed the sound of something hiss and explode into dust. “I’m uber-prepared girl.”
“Just try to be careful, ok. You’re my friend,” said a winded Buffy. “I would hate for you to be hurt or something.”

“So then, with nothing but a two-by-four Spike coulda wielded, he tries to knock Rumble off the pipe.” Sunstreaker’s story was growing every time he told the tale of the last Autobot mission. Bumblebee, hiding in the shadows again, sighed as he heard Jazz and Cliffjumper laugh. “He brandishes it like a samurai sword and proceeds to bring it across Rumble’s head, right? The stupid bot just looks at him. Stands there in the middle of a freakin firefight mid-rumble and looks at the little bug and says `yer kidding, right?’” This brought fresh laughter and anger welled up in the smallest robot’s heart.
“I can’t stand it.” Bumblebee muttered to himself. “They want to make fun of me? They want to ridicule me? I’m outta here.” He turned and walked out of the hall into the control room of the Ark. Lost in his thoughts, he slammed right into the leg of the police car, Prowl.
“Hey, little guy, missed you there. You ok?”
“Fine, like any of you people care.” Bumblebee tried to push away and walk to a terminal, but Prowl’s hand held him firm.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Go ask Sunstreaker or Jazz, or Cliffumper. Hell, just go ask anybody what’s making me mad. I bet you they would be happy to tell you a real funny story.” He wiggled out of the larger robot’s grip. “I’m sick of it, Prowl. I try and try and they still treat me like a weak little robot.”
“Oh, that, again.” Prowl looked at the tiny robot and sighed. “Look, Bumblebee, you are tiny. I suppose that could be a problem in the war if you were a warrior like Jazz and me. But you’re a spy. A damn good one, and the guys know they can count on you. Why don’t you go cool off? Take an oil bath. Get a tune up, that always help me put things into perspective.”
“Fine. I’ll go. Prowl, thanks for listening.” With that the yellow robot transformed and sped off into the Oregon wilderness. Prowl shook his head and logged it into the shift report



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