Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all associated characters were created by Joss Whedon and are owned by Mutant Enemy. The Discworld and all associated characters were created and are owned by Terry Pratchett OBE.

Note: the title is deliberately spelt incorrectly, but that's part of the crossover.

Spoilers: any of the Discworld books that contain Rincewind.

The Great Wizzard

"No." Xander shook his head, "No way in hell. Forget about it. End of story."

"Come on Xander, you know you want to." Buffy stood behind her friend, resting her chin on his shoulder, "I know you've been reading Giles' collection."

"Yeah, come on." Willow appeared over his other shoulder, "It'll be fun."

"I am not wearing a dress!" Xander shook his head forcibly, "No way in hell!"

"It's not a dress, it's a robe." Buffy reassured him, "And it comes with a really cool hat..."

"Can't afford it." Xander shook his head with a smile, "No way. Can't be done, Impossible. Just not going to happen."

"How about..." Buffy had a wicked smile, "we lend you the extra money. I've still got a little left, and I'm sure Willow has."

"Yeah, I've got some." Willow looked at he friend with puppy dog eyes, "Please?"


"I look like an idiot." Xander muttered as he made his way down the street, his charge of small children in tow. "How did I let Buffy and Willow talk me into this?"

"Why are you wearing a dress?" One of the kids asked for the tenth time.

"For the last time; it's not a dress!" Xander snapped, adjusting the fake beard and pointy hat, "It's a wizard's robe: I'm a Wizard."

"If it's a wizard's robe, why do you have 'WIZZARD' written on your hat?"

"Because I'm not a very good wizard..."


Ethan Rayne knelt before the statue of Janus and completed the spell that would unleash chaos on Sunnydale, unable to surpress a small grin: the last costume to go out had been a very spechil one indeed.

He'd been caiful not to stock any costumes that could give the wearer powers that could be a danger to either himself or his plans, but he couldn't resist adding just one Wizards costume, especially that particualr one. He almost felt tempted to go out and see what became of the poor young man who'd purchased it, but he needed to stay and keep an eye on the spell.

A sound in the distance cought his attention, and he cocked his head to the side, trying to listen. It sounded almost like hundreds of little feet headed his way...


Rincewind screamed; it seemed like the thing to do.

He then screamed again, just incase the first one hadn't been enough.

Then, closing his eyes, he took a deep breath: it HAD to be a dream. There was no other explanation. There was no way that his cosy little room at Unseen University had just been replaced by a nightmarish street. Had experience many things in his life, often at high speed while being chanced by angry, heavily armed men, but this was definitely a new one in his book.

Slowly opening his eyes again, Rincewind looked round to see a provocatively dressed woman walking towards him, a hopeful look in his eye. Could he have wondered into the Shades without knowing it? That had to be the answer: anything else was too terrible to think about.

Not that finding ones self in the Shades, alone, at night and unarmed was a good thing.

"I haven't got any money!" He called out, back-pedalling, "I'm a wizard: come any closer and I'll turn you into a frog!"

"Xander?" The woman looked at him, and his face dell, "Not you too?"

"Me too what?" Rincewind asked.

"Something has turned everyone into something else. Probably a spell or a demon..."

"It's magic, defiantly magic: you're practically glowing octarine."


"Octarine, the eig... colour that is numbered seven plus one; the colour of magic."

"Never heard of it." The woman shook her head, "Look, my name is Willow and I need your help..."

"Impending doom?"


"Imposable odds?"


"Devious and diabolical monsters?"

"Well, it's Dru and Spike, but yes..."

"Almost certain death?"



Suddenly there was a Rincewind shaped hole in the air. He accelerated as fast as he could, trying his damnedest to put as much distance between himself and what ever it was the strange woman who called herself Willow wanted to do. This was not how his life was supposed to go.

Unfortunately, he ran straight into a tall, brooding looking man in a long coat. So he screamed again.

"What the hell is going on here?" Angel asked, "Willow, what's happened to Xander?"

"People are turning into their Halloween costumes: he's turned into an inept wizard named Rincewind." The young redhead explained, talking almost too fast to follow, "Buffy's turned into a damsel-in-distress, and I'm a ghost." She waved her arm through a nearby lamp post to emphasise her point.

"What the hell is going on here?" Angel asked again, confused by what he'd just been told, "Only, this time talk slower and as we look for Buffy."


Spike was enjoying himself immensely: the Slayer, constant thorn in his side since he had arrived in town, was somehow reduced to a cowering little girl at his feet. Nothing, not even his two Slayer kills, or the time he'd talked Drew and Darla into a ménage à trois one night in Paris after Angel had gotten his soul...

No, despite all of that, THIS was, without a doubt, the best night of his afterlife.

"Buffy!" Willow's yelp of surprise and concern stopped him short when he was just about to sink his teeth into the terrified Slayer.

"Bloody hell..." He moaned, "Look, Casper, bugger off!"

"Step away from Buffy!" Angel snarled, his face changing to its demonic form.

"Well if it isn't the last boy scout!" Spike tilted his head to one side, catching a glimpse of the man cowering behind his former companion, "Well, at least you're gracious enough bring enough for everyone."

Rincewind emitted a quite, squeak like sound, and promptly fainted.

"So, what's it going to be, Angelus old chap?" Spike asked, "Surf or Turf?"

There was a scurrying sound, followed by a loud crack and a scream as something approached from the other end of the dark alleyway, chancing one of Spike's minions.

"What the..." Spike changed back to his human form as what looked like a large sea trunk on legs stepped out of the shadows, propelled on hundreds of tiny feet. It looked at him, something that can be hard to do when you have no eyes, but it definitely looking at him. It didn't smell like a demon; in fact it smelt like fresh laundry, but it radiated malice and murderous intent.

Spike stood his ground, intent in staring the new arrival down. The trunks lit opened a crack, and then slowly close again. All other sounds seemed to stop as the stand off between vampire and trunk continued, neither side showing any signs of letting up. Angel slowly edged forward enough to pull Buffy to the relative cover of some old oil drums, but never took his eyes off the strange sight before him.

Time dragged; eons seemed to pass as the two opponents continued to glare at each other with unbridled homicidal intent.

Then Spike made a mistake: he blinked.

The trunk moved too fast for anyone to follow, but suddenly the blond vampire was gone, and his opponent seemed to radiate an aura of smugness. The trunks lid opened and a small circle of dust rose up into the air. A tongue as large as a palm leaf and red as mahogany licked teeth like bleached driftwood. The lid remained slightly open as the trunk turned to look at the other vampires, seemingly daring them to attack.

Dru, who had been away in her own private world, suddenly returned and saw what had happened to Spike. With a banshee like scream, she leapt at the trunk, her face changing to demonic form mid flight. The trunk stayed motionless until the last moment, then snapped its lid, seemingly swallowing the deranged vampire whole. A puff of smoke-like dust was blown from its keyhole as it looked at the remaining vampires, waiting for them to respond.

The remaining minions all came to the conclusion that discretion was the better part of valour, and ran as fast as they could away from the mysteries trunk.

"What?" Rincewind came too, looking round, "Oh there you are!"

The trunk walked over to him, kicked him, and continued over to the slowly recovering Buffy. It stopped beside her and started to rub itself against her leg, like an oversized wooden cat.

"I think he likes you." Rincewind pulled himself to his feet, "He has a soft spot for blonds."

"What is it?" Angel asked, more than a little afraid.

"It's my Luggage." Rincewind explained as he opened it up and pulled out a clean robe, "It's sort of a combination travel accessory and homicidal maniac."

Willow and Angel looked at each other and nodded, "We have to find Giles."


Ethan upended the bottle, downing the last of the sctotch in one go. His hands had finaly stopped shaking after his encounter with the Luggage.

It was his own fault, and deep down, he knew it: he should have remembered the properties of Sapient Pearwood. The Luggage was made almost entirely of the magical wood, and would follow its owner anywhere. By turning the annoying schoolboy into its master, he had indivertibly created something that even gods had a reason to fear.

The fact that it was also a walking personification of unbridled rage had not been lost of the chaos mage.

The shops front door exploded inwards, sending a shower of glass and wood towards Ethan. He bearly had time to duck down behind the counter without being pepperd with shards before the Luggage landed in the middle of the shop, its lid slowly opening.

"Hello?" A voice called out, "I know you're in there Ethan."

"Ripper!" The somewhat startled Ethan stood to greet his former friend, "Long time no see."

"What have you been upto, Ethan?"

"Nothing; I'm just trying to run a buisnes. You know, I think there's something strange about this town..."

"Don't play games with me, Ethan, I'll only have to hurt you." Giles looked round as the Luggage snapped its lid shut, "Ok, he'll have to hurt you."

"Statue of Janus." Ethan almost shouted, "Back room."

"Destroy it." Giles pointed at the half open doorway, and the Luggage leapt into action.


"So, everything's back to normal?" Buffy asked as she entered the library, "No after effects?"

"No, everything seems fine." Giles nodded, "Well, apart from that..." He pointed at the Luggage, who was sat in the caged off area that was normally reserved for the weapons and more dangerous books, "It stays here while Xander is in class, but follows him around the rest of the time."

"And people don't notice a large wooden chest on legs walking around town?"

"Do they notice what else happens around here? Humans have the ability to filter out what they don't want to see of believe is impossible. It seems to be some kind of physiological defence mechanism."

"So with now got us an impenetrable wooden box that likes to eat vampires." Buffy sighed, "Well, how much trouble could it really be?"

The End

Sorry boys and girls, but this is a stand-alone story.
You can all decide where it goes from here, and as ever, if you come up with an idea, feel free to write it and post it.
Just let everyone no where the idea came from.