Interview with the Slayer
by Angie Barley, Demons' Weekly staffer
As all readers of Demons' Weekly know, Buffy Summers is not your typical human. When I contacted her about this interview, even when I assured her that I've never once harmed a human (that incident in Leningrad doesn't count), her attitude could be described more as hostile than merely uncooperative. However, I persuaded her to meet me, at a place of her designation, and she chose one appropriate to her dark nature - a graveyard.
When she arrived, I was amazed to see that this famed and fearsome Slayer looks like nothing more than a skinny teenaged female human, with an expression no more antagonistic than the average teenager's. Her differences quickly became apparent, however. I had set up in a crypt, and despite my assurances of peaceful intentions, she checked the whole thing over for traps. Then she sat out of my arms' reach and dropped a sizeable backpack on the sarcophagus. It clanked and rattled.
Demons' Weekly: What's in the pack, Miss Summers?
Buffy (baring her teeth): Weapons.
DW: I'm harmless, I assure you!
B: You may have friends.
DW: Well, I do, but... we seem to have sidetracked. I suppose those are the tools of your trade?
B: It's not a trade. It's a calling.
DW: You sound sarcastic.
B: Yeah, well, I get that way when I'm quoting Giles.
DW: That would be Rupert Giles, your Watcher.
B: Watcher, baby-sitter, whatever.
DW: Buffy, my readers are curious about what, exactly, you get out of this Slayer thing. Do you get satisfaction from murder?
B: I get a lot of satisfaction out of slaying. Yes. It feels really great to wipe out monsters. Vampires are the best, though. Poof. No body to get rid of.
DW: Uh... yes. Do you get off on the fame, as well?
B: (rolls eyes) Oh, right. I love having a reputation for burning down schools, starting bloody riots, and in general being a delinquent.
DW: So, you're misunderstood by other humans?
B: Only the ones who count. The police, the principal... my mom.
DW: So your mother isn't exactly supportive?
B: (glares) Did I say that? Leave my mother alone!
DW: Wouldn't touch her! Swear! Lets continue on a more trivial note... do you dye your hair, or is that natural?
B: (pleasantly) You really don't like the shape of your face, do you?
DW: All right, natural, it's natural. Of course. Um... As a Slayer, do you have trouble balancing your "calling" and your normal life?
B: You sound more like you're from Good Housekeeping than some demon magazine.
DW: Well, I am curious, but also, I'm afraid that if I ask you about the actual slaying part of it, you might decide you need some practice.
B: (smiles) OK. To answer your question, no, I don't have any trouble balancing my slaying and my normal life, as long as my normal life doesn't include having good grades or dating or anything actually normal.
DW: Normal to a teenaged human. You do seem very young to be so skilled.
B: What can I say? It's a knack.
DW: Now I'd like to ask - why vampires?
B: Because they're mean and nasty and kill people, maybe? But hey, I'm not picky. Vampires, demons, giant roaches, whatever. You get the picture.
DW: Yes, I do. Miss Summers, some of our readers are naturally made a little paranoid by your activities.
B: I certainly hope so.
DW: Even those of us innocent of any ill will toward humans feel some trepidation when approaching the Hellmouth.
B: That's great!
DW: I'm sure you're proud...
B: You bet.
DW: But is there any advice you can give us about how to avoid being staked, stabbed, beheaded, burned, or otherwise slain by you in the course of our perfectly ordinary lives?
B: You can stay out of Sunnydale.
DW: That's very helpful. But other than that, can you be reasoned with, when in the throes of your Slayer bloodlust?
B: (stares, then bursts into laughter) Throes? What books have you been reading lately?
DW: If you could just answer the question...
B: Sure. Fall down, play dead, squeal for mercy, promise never to do it again - whatever "it" is - bribe me with chocolate, and hope I'm in a good mood.
At that moment, a most fortuitous interruption occurred, when the doorway was darkened by a massive shape that turned out to be the vampire known as Angel. Just inside the doorway, he glanced protectively at the Slayer and suspiciously at me.
Angel: What's going on here?
B: (brightly) I'm being interviewed for a demon magazine.
A: Which one?
B: I forgot.
DW: Demons' Weekly
A: Oh, that one. It's a tabloid.
B: I figured. Does that mean my face will be at the cash registers in every demon supermarket?
A: Maybe, except demons don't have supermarkets and there's no photographer here.
B: Darn. I feel gypped.
DW: Now that you're here, Angel, I must seize this opportunity to ask you both to tell me about the difficulties of maintaining a healthy relationship despite your differences.
B and A: (at the same time) No difficulties, nope, no problem.
DW: Oh, come now. You're a vampire, you're a Slayer. How do you resist?
A: (looks extremely self-conscious)
B: (narrows eyes) Resist what?
DW: Well... following your natures. Buffy, your desire should be to drive a stake through Angel's heart, and Angel, your desire should be to eat Buffy.
B: Oh, that.
DW: What did you think I meant?
A: Can we skip this question?
DW: Surely you didn't think I meant...?
B: Well, duh.
DW: Demon's Weekly is a family magazine!
B: Oh, I see. So talking about killing is OK, but not talking about...
DW: (interrupts) Precisely. Our readers are curious how a blood-sucking demon and a homicidal human can have a friendship.
A: I'm leaving.
B: (grabs him) Aw, hang around, it's just getting fun.
A: Your idea of fun...
B: ...is kicking censored and going to the Bronze afterward.
A: (to DW) She has simple tastes.
DW: (persisting) So, how do you do it?
B: He has a lot of self-control.
A: She isn't always homicidal.
DW: Then it's not so much a relationship as a truce?
B: Right! OK, are we done now?
Since I felt I was only beginning to scratch the surface of this unique and highly improbable pair, I did my best to retain the Slayer, short of laying a talon on her. However, we were interrupted again, this time by her posse of "Scoobies", who all came into the crypt to look at me suspiciously. Since one of the males is notorious for irrational acts, I thought it best to pack up and depart. I hope to continue this interview at another date. The Slayer didn't exactly say no to that idea. She said, "Get real," which is obscure but not discouraging.