TITLE: The Advantages of Being Unconscious

AUTHOR: Wicked Raygun

E-MAIL: wicked_raygun@yahoo.com

SUMMARY: Somewhere in that weird place between being overly caffeinated and coming off of a caffeine high I wrote this. I'd be proud of it, but I'm mostly just afraid. Share in the lunacy with me. Who knows, it just might be funny.

RATING:  R - Just to be safe. I make a few references to orgies. When orgies are involved, it's always best to be safe.

SPOILERS: You know what, if you're reading this, then, obviously, you have access to the internet. If don't know what happened on Buffy by now…

DISCLAIMOR: I refuse to believe this is necessary. Does anyone here actually believe I own this stuff in any way? Well… To the folks who do own a piece of the Buffster and/or her friends and enemies, I mean you no harm. I'm simply borrowing your toys to put on a little puppet show. I promise to bring them all back in near-mint condition. Even Spike. Okay, maybe not Spike. Or Xander for that matter…

FEEDBACK: Everyone needs a little love. It makes the world go round and writers post faster. Just remember that the next time you want to know what happened to Nonsense.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: For those who are interested in some of my other work, including Hero Complex, and Nonsense, it can be found here:

And here:

That's my brand spanking new website, created by the wonderful and talented Joanne W. and was the coolest Christmas gift ever! Please, go to her site, read her fine work and leave many reviews for her as well.

Now, onto the show.


For no other reason other than the author's whim… Xander fell out of the sky. Trust me, it was a very painful thing, what with that whole 'gravity' thing becoming an issue and the ground being remarkably sturdy.

He moaned, hoping in vain that nothing worse could happen. And since I just used the word 'vain', I think I've met my foreshadowing quota for this story.

Then Buffy, Dawn and Willow proceeded to fall on top of him in alphabetical order, using his beaten and broken body to break their fall. Of course, they all fell in spurts so that they each had time to move out of the way to make room for the next falling female. After all, the author fancies himself a gentleman, and would never hurt any of the women in his fics unless it served an actual 'story-like' purpose.

Xander, however, was born with a Y-chromosome, and so shall therefore be subjugated to as much pain as possible. Before any male readers start getting unjustifiably angry, the author would like to remind them that unless you too have had a nymphomaniac for a girlfriend, then he's probably gotten laid a lot more than you, and if even half the smut fics about this guy are true, then genetics were unusually kind to him in the length and girth department.

Kind of siphons all the righteous indignation right out of you, doesn't it?

Needless to say, the Scooby Gang was very confused, and in the case of Xander Harris, possibly concussed. However, if the author didn't actually take the time to say what is normally deemed 'needless' for these kinds of things, then he wouldn't be doing much now, would he?

Then Buffy, Dawn, Willow and Xander proceeded to have a very erotic and intense orgy in alphabetical order…

And now that the author has the reader's attention, he will proceed to tell what actually happened.

"Where the hell is the scenery? It's all just… not there…" said Buffy, who often tends to be the first one to spot such problems.

The author smacks his head, realizing he forgot to add scenery and instead only made vague references about 'sturdy ground.' And since he can do such things, he decided that the view the Scoobies had was of a white expanse that continued onto infinity—Or possibly the horizon. Whichever sounds more impressive, really—the site was both awesome and awe-inspiring.

The Y-chromosome in Xander Harris' body triggered a violent reaction in his inner-ear, throwing off his balance and causing him to vomit in a very unmanly way because it's funny, you see, when you make a male weaker than a female. And quite empowering the author is told.

The author decides that he's going to make the scenery input Matrix-style because Xander's vomiting is only funny for so long.

The author flips a coin, shrugs and then the High School Library from seasons one through three is input Matrix-style—with the cool whooshing effect and everything.

Xander slowly gets up, wiping away the vomit from his lips. He takes one good look at the Library and realizes with dread that he's probably not going to get laid anytime soon. And he was really hoping for the orgy.

At this time both Buffy and Dawn breathe relieved sighs, thankful that they don't have to have sex with each other in another loosely-plotted incest smut-fic. Willow, however, snapped her fingers in annoyance because she's a horny, raging lesbian, you see, and where else is she going to get Slayer/Witch/Key action?

"Okay, so what is it?" Xander finally asked. "Authors don't just drop us from the sky into all white expanses unless they plan to torture us or give us some huge, honking destiny. So what's the deal?"

"This isn't another one of those 'back-to-the-beginning' fics, is it?" Willow asked annoyed. "Because I always get screwed in those things."

"At least you actually exist," Dawn muttered bitterly.

Xander looked to Buffy. "What? No opinion?"

"As long as I'm not forced to have sex with my sister, I'm good."

Just then lightning struck Xander, sending him flying into one of the book cases. The others helped him up and Xander looked to the sky… uh, ceiling… with dread.

"Oh, god. We're self aware about fanfic and I'm being abused by the author… It's one of THOSE fics!"

Buffy sighed. "Again? Didn't we do one of these things last week?"

Willow stared at Buffy and scoffed. "As if THAT ever mattered."

Xander got to his knees and started praying. "Oh, please let the author not be Pro-Spike. Those guys hate me like a Nazi!"

Then Buffy grew very angry. "Oh, what? Is Mr. Perfect Guy suddenly worried he's not going to get the girl this time? Maybe if you wait five minutes another bimbo will fall from the sky and then get on her knees to worship you!"

Dawn smacked Buffy on the back of the head. The anger in Buffy's eyes cleared up and she smiled at her little sister.

"Thanks, Dawn. I needed that." Then she spoke to Xander apologetically, "Sorry, Xand. I still had some bitchiness left over from Rick's last chapter."

Xander shrugged. "It happens" he said offhandedly.

"Well, where is he?" Willow asked, moving the conversation along because the author didn't want to spend three weeks writing unfunny meaningless dialogue. "There's usually a guy who shows up about now to give us the rules."

"Five bucks says it's Whistler," Xander said.

"You're on, Xand," Dawn said, accepting the bet. She had a feeling about how the author was going to react.

Just to spite Xander, and because Dawn is a cutey-pie, the author had Spike fall from the sky. He fell on top of Xander, breaking his fall. Dawn took this time to take Xander's wallet, figuring that Xander wasn't going to really need it anytime soon. Spike laughed at Xander's misery, before a book case fell on top of him.

Spike also has a Y-chromosome, you see.

"Damn it," he cursed. "That really hurt like hell!"

"Uh, Spike?" Willow called.


"You're British accent is gone."

"Huh? Oh, crap. Hey! Writer Boy! Come on, buddy!" he screamed up to the ceiling sounding like somebody from Boston. "We had a deal! I explain the rules! There was nothing in there about me sounding like those two guys from Good Will Hunting!"

An anvil fell on top of his head.

"Bloody hell!" Spike noticed his accent was back. "Uh, thanks, mate," he said to the ceiling. "I think," he finished with a mutter.

"Okay, boys and girls, it's time for the rules…"

"Is this going to be one of those MST3K things where we 'read'," Buffy emphasized with air quotes, "some writer's really bad fiction about us?"

Just so the rest of the readers who really can't stand those fics don't smash their monitors in with their keyboards, the author decides to tell them that it won't be. It's not that the author has anything remotely resembling good taste. It's just that he doesn't want to be mean to someone else's work, he's far too much of a sensitive girly-man to bad mouth his own and far too lazy to write a bad one on purpose.

Relieved sighs were heard all around.

"Uh, did we just hear the narration?" Dawn pointed out in a questioning…type of…uh, thingy.

The author at this time would like to point out that he has misplaced his thesaurus: A useful book that's just chock full of needlessly complicated alternatives to more common words. From first hand experience, the author could tell you that a thesaurus can really help one impress eighth grade English teachers.

He could, but he won't.

"No, we didn't just hear the narration," Xander asserted fearfully.

"Are you sure?"



"Dawnie, do you want an anvil to fall on my head?"

Dawn considered it for a moment and figured that since she already had all of his money and that this wasn't going to be a smut fic, then there really weren't any advantages to Xander being unconscious.

"No, I guess not."

"My non-head trauma thanks you."

The author laughed at Xander's witty, self-deprecating remark…Hey, wait a second! The only one allowed to be witty around here is me! The Author! Capitol letters, pal! He-Who-Refers-To-Himself-In-The-Third-Person! Why I should…

The author takes a sip of coffee, and all of the sudden can't remember where all the negativity came from. Sweet, blessed nurturing coffee. You won't hurt me by making out with my friends behind my back like all the other women in my life, will you? Uhm…

The author apologizes for the weird, scary place he just took the readers too.

Anyways, back to the story…

"As if anyone's still reading this dreck, you ridiculous pathetic sod," Spike snapped impatiently because he redundantly lost his patience eight paragraphs ago.

An anvil fell on top of his head and he started speaking French. And since the author doesn't know a single lick of French—or how to speak it either—the readers can expect very little from Spike for the rest of this sad excuse for a fic.

"At the risk of having an anvil fall on top of my head and being forced to speak Swahili, could we get back to the story?" Buffy asked.

Oh, sure…Uh…Oh, crap.

The author realizes that he has run out of ideas and begins to seriously reconsider Willow's need for Slayer/Witch/Key action.

"Oh, now, I know I definitely heard that," Dawn muttered, annoyed.

Willow pumped her hand in the air, while Buffy and Dawn both sighed. Xander began rubbing his hands excitedly in anticipation of the orgy, and was about to do the Snoopy Dance—because, you know, that's what he does—when he was suddenly struck by lightning again and knocked unconscious. Spike was subsequently struck by lightning also, and soon followed him into unconsciousness.

It's that whole Y-chromosome thing again.

And then Buffy, Dawn and Willow started doing the type of things to each other that, if the author were to describe them, would get one kicked off fanfiction.net quicker than two shakes of an angry spuffy.

In alphabetical order, of course.