
The Library: Episode 7: FIELD TRIP!!
Subtitle: Lets go Stalking	

	Jareth, aka the Goblin King, was getting fed up with his duties as principal of the Library School for TYs.  He was getting tired of the idiocy of his staff, the rambunctiousness of his students, and the iron fisted rulership of the all powerful and all knowing it Librarian.  There HAD to be an escape from this hell!  He pounded his head on his desk for the fiftieth time, leaving small splinters in his forehead and marring his perfect make up.  As he prepared to hammer his head against the now breaking desk, his leather clad secretary poked her head in the office door, dyed black hair and all.  
	Yo, boss man!  You keep doing that and Gabriels going to have to fix you!  She walked in and sat down on his desk, her skirts pieces flying in random directions and scattering his well-ordered paperwork.  Whatsa matter, boss?  The job getting you stressed?  He glared up at her, splinters sticking out of his eyeliner.
	The job isnt getting me stressed, as you so quaintly put it, its the co-workers, my subordinates, and my boss.
	Xena shrugged.  The job.  Jareth rolled his eyes and pounded his head against the desk again.
	Head still resting on the desk he muttered, when will the torture end?  Xena leaned in, her chest nearly popping out of that nifty bustier type thingy of hers.
	Whats that, boss?  You want a reprieve?  He looked up at her again, his eyes bloodshot and a 2x4 sticking out of his left ear.
	Yes!  Dear God, YES!
	One word, boss man, Fieldtrip.  Xena got off his desk and left his office, the sword on her back nearly getting itself slammed as the door closed, before Pyla could even get a chance to snatch it.  
	Jareth sat at his desk, pulling pieces of wood out of his elaborate hair-do and musing over the possibility.  A fieldtrip...  He rang a small bell and instantly the entire staff came stumbling through the door of his office.  Spike, Home Ec teacher, Pyla and Reea, janitorial staff and nocturnal terrors of the bookshelves, Giles, the head of security, and Gabriel, Xenas little toy friend and the school nurse.  All of the faculty came through the door with one exception, Draven.  The window behind Jareths desk slid open with its now signature alarm, installed specifically for the purpose of warning Jareth of Dravens entrances, and Eric Draven, aka the Crow, was crouching in the window sill, a black feather clasped between his teeth.  Jareth turned around and gave him a questioning look.
	Whats with the feather?  And hows Shop class going?
	Oh, the feather?  I woke up this morning thinking I was a pirate, and I couldnt find any of my knives.  I improvised.  And we didnt have classes today, the TYs were too busy observing the annual retirement day ceremonies.  School holiday.  Jareth cradled his poor abused skull in his hands and decided it was best to just get down to business before he lost what few strands of sanity he had left and started dancing around with a handkerchief stuffed down the front of his pants and abducting babies in red and white striped pajamas.
	He sighed.  I need a break from you.  All of you.  And your students.  Youre going on a field trip and leaving me alone for a day or so.  Any suggestions?  Pyla raised her hand.  Jareth winced.
	Me me me!!!  She was hopping up and down and waving her hand frantically, as if it were on fire, a sensation she knew quite well from repeated misadventures involving kerosene and a blow torch.  I have an idea!!  Jareth grimaced.
	Yes, Pyla?  What is your, er... Brilliant idea?	
	We should take a trip to Earth!  Ive been studying it off and on for a while, considering that so many interesting test subjects come from there, and we should go to EARTH!  The so-called test subjects gave her a collective strange look.  
	Tests?  What tests?  Giles was the first to hazard the question.  Pyla got the innocent, cutesy little blonde girl innocent look, and almost pulled it off but for the demonic grin.
	Oh... youll find out!  The test subjects gave a collective groan.
	I was afraid of that...  Giles was once again the spokesperson.  
	Jareth, ever the one with a mind for details started calling out a checklist.  Transportation?
	Mackadelic TRUCK!!!!
	Oookay... food items?
	Cheesy poofs!
	Destination?
	uhh........  Pyla couldnt come up with an answer, so Spike spoke up.
	Sunnydale.  The bleeding town is in need of some bloody insanity.  Too bloody boring.  Giles whacked him over the head with a ruler.
	What about Seacouver?  Everyone looked up to see Ramirez and Connor stuck to the ceiling with rubber suction cups taped to their hands and heavy Doc Martens boots.  Spike looked at them.
	Nice boots.  Steel toes?  The pair of cieling hangers nodded and everyone looked back at Jareth, conveniently forgetting that the two black clothed immortals hanging precariously above their heads were there.
	Okay, now that we have all of that worked out, GO!  GET OUT! NOW!  Jareths voice nearly pushed them physically out the door, or in Erics case, the window, and Jareth leaned back in his nice big comfy chair, sighing in relief.  A day to himself, with just the floor, cieling, walls, and cafeteria lady.  Speaking of the cafeteria lady, wasnt the cafeteria closed?  So what was with the sounds of blaster fire and smell of burnt rubber?  And that light under the door?  Well, hed have a whole day to think that one through...

The next School day
	EVERYONE INTO THE BLOODY TRUCK!!!  Spike grimaced for the umpteenth time at the blindingly bright colors of what Pyla referred to as her Mackadelic Truck.  He grimaced even deeper at the sight of the TYs, followed by the Meanies.  The TYs were revoltingly wholesome but for their insane rivalry regarding their Beanie Baby collections.  The Meanies were busily pulling TY ponytails off the heads of their owners and hiding them in their water-bottles.  Somehow, the TYs failed to notice.  Spike rubbed his forehead, which started to smoke, as he had rubbed off some of his sun screen, SPF 5,000,000.  He growled and shot a glare at the twins from hell.  Or would that be heaven?  He liked hell... or at least, he enjoyed being at the root of hell on earth...
	While Spike was thus occupied, and smoking profusely, the two immortals were picking TYs off the edge of the crowd and tossing them unceremoniously into the Mackadelic.  At the rate they were going, it would take the rest of the morning to get them all in.  Of course, thats assuming nothing about the situation changed.  The twins, however, had no intentions of leaving things as they were.  
	Reea and Pyla, who had skipped their morning enchiladas, were sitting on the bumper of the truck eating.  
	Tabasco?  Reeas voice was a bit louder than shed meant it to be, and the entire crowd, not to mention the rest of the planetoid, heard her quite plainly.  The TYs swarmed, thinking that the one Beanie that was missing from their collection was finally within their grasp.  The Meanies, seeing their torture subjects disapearing into the truck, followed, carrying all their biking gear with them.  The end result were quite a few missing ponytails, and the remaining hairdos were covered in tire marks.  Spike took this golden opportunity to slam the doors and slide home the bolt... which looked suspiciously like a railroad tie.  Pyla, meanwhile, had ambushed the secretary and stolen her sword.  
	Oooo... New hood ornament!  The sword suddenly found itself in the uncomfortable position of having its hilt stuck in the grill, its point sticking straight out, threatening passing cars, trucks, mini-vans, and antelope.  And any flying melons.  Or melon heads, for that matter.  Or just heads in general. 

ALL ABOARD!!!
	First stop, SUNNYDALE!!  Pylas voice rang out, signalling that it was Giles stop.  As Giles climbed off the roof of the truck, where hed had the misfortune of riding, and picked the bugs out of his teeth, a cocoon of blue lightning surrounded him.  Next thing he knew, his clothing had changed.  He was now dressed in a bright yellow, skin tight leotard and red boxing trunks, with a red cape that only came halfway down his thighs.  On his feet were obscenely orange boots and he was wearing a yellow, orange, and red mask with a pointy nose.  Before he could do or say anything, the truck roared off in a cloud of yellow dust, leaving him to the mercies of a school carnival, already in full swing and in need of a man to sit in the dunking booth.  
	But I wanted to finish my research on Mayhem Bunnies!  He wailed as they dragged him off to the booth to splash him and soak him and generally make him a very wet head of security.

On the Road Again..
	The TYs were singing road songs.  Spike was trying desperately to shove his fists into his ears.  Hed been elected chaperone.
	Old MacDonald had a farm, ee i ee i oh!  Everytime they came to the MacDonald part of the song, the resident immortals/headhunters cried out in unison MACLEOD! and Pyla yelled MACKADELIC!  Reea, just to make life interesting and difficult, yelled MACLEODELI!  Everyone glared at her and she grinned, then stuck her head out the window.  Pyla was busy putting pretty ribbons on her already well worn and painted steering wheel.  Unfortunately, she was supposed to be steering.  She wasnt.  Decorating, in her mind, came first and required undivided attention to detail.  
	The truck, which seemed to have somewhere along the way aquired the ability to drive itself, stopped abruptly in front of a movie theatre.  The sign with all the movie titles on it seemed rather... redundant, to say the least.  It said Sleepy Hollow... repeatedly.  In all 25 theaters.  The highlanders jumped out of the back of the truck, hurriedly slamming door behind them before Spike could escape, and warily approached the ticket window.  As they came nearer, a black haired head with even blacker (if thats possible) eyebrows above incongruously aqua-colored eyes, peered over the edge of the ticket desk.  The Headless Horsemans sword (ooo.. soo pretty!! SHARP THING!  SHARP THING!) rose along with the head.
	Your hea- I mean, money, please.  Connor and Ramirez *gulped* as she almost requested they hand over their craniums.  From the looks of the blade, she could force the issue.  Ramirez dared speak.
	You wouldnt happen to have Casablanca playing, would you?
	The black haired girls head rose half an inch, the cuuuute lil button nose now resting on the desk.  Are there swords in it?  As if to accentuate the point, the sword holding chubby little fist slammed down on the counter.  Strangely, the button nosed girl reminded them of Reea.  (HINT HINT!  its one of the authors!  *cough cough sneeze choke*)
	No, but it is a charming story about love, romance and- he was interrupted by the girls face, rising another half inch, upper lip pulled back over rather SHARP teeth.
	Then NO we do NOT have it!  Its a SWORDLESS movie!  We DONT want it!  She said swordless as if it were the most fowl word ever invented.  However, we do have Sleepy Hollow in Theater One and Sleepy Hollow in Theater Two...  Glancing at the price sign, Ramirez handed over a $20 bill and a random arm and leg and walked in, Connor tailing him closely.
	Uh... Heh heh heh... Whose arm and leg were those?
	Ive no idea..  Button nose continued behind them.
	..Hollow in Theater Twelve...

Just Cant Wait to Get on the Road Again...
	Eric had zoomed by on his scooter, and as soon as it got outside the Mackedelics sphere of influence, it turned into a big ass Harley, and we dont mean the (authors) dog.  On the back of his new leather jacket was the logo of a group calling themselves a Murder of Crows.  He was soon joined by a bunch of bikers (this time the REAL guys, not spandex crew) all wearing the same logo.  The license plate on his bike read Flock You!
	The next stop was Target, where the meanies disembarked, their biking gear suddenly changing into an assortment of sharp pointy things and home-baked desserts.  They promptly ran off into the depths of the home and garden department to wreak havok.  The Mission: Impossible theme song soon started on the store sound system.  It was interrupted only by cries of Clean up on Aisle 53.7 and Code Red 23 on Aisle 3.14.  
	The spokesMeanie walked up to a frecklefaced, pizzaed employee, a large pie held casually in one hand.  Excuse me, but where could I find a Sneezeblork?
	Umm... Ill have to ask my manager.  
	WRONG ANSWER!  The minute trouble maker joyfully hurled the pie into the employees face and ran off, cackling a la Daffy Duck, followed by his team.
	The employee ran off to find his mommy.

Meanwhile, In the Library...
	The secretary had produced a rotating whet stone blade sharpening thingy from one drawer of her desk.  She glanced up from her pencil sharpening as a white Arabian with a Spanish-accented Arab riding on its back and yelling something about a dog, rode through.  He jumped out the window, cursing vehemently.  Call my horse a dog, will they!  Ill show those (*bleep!* Censored...) a dog!
	Looking back down at her work, she realized shed ground yet another pencil down to a stump and threw it at the cieling.  She was working on a scale model of the solar system.  She was already halfway there, and this was a BIG system... lots of asteroids and nice things like that.. and some big ship with Red Dwarf painted on its butt.
	Suddenly, Jareth popped through the door of his office, dressed in a smart, bright pink business suit, his hair ten inches tall and sporting several pencils of its own, and a large suitcase at his side.
	AVON CALLING!  
	Xena looked up, then looked back down at her work, pulling another unsharpened pencil and beginning to sharpen it one handed.  Jareth found himself examining the palm of the other.  Talk to the hand, cuz the face aint listening.  She went about her business, making a point of ignoring the moonlighting Principal.

Back at the Sleepy Hollow Grand Theater 25, now Showing Sleepy Hollow...
	OOoo... Johnny Depp is just toooo cuuute!  Hes sooo dreamy!  Connor cackled in a high falsetto, throwing popcorn at the screen... Thankfully it fell several feet short and landed on his head.
	Totally!  What does Christina Ricci have that I dont?  Ramirez twittered back at him.  Connor resisted the obvious answer.  
	The sword wielding ticket taker, brownish hair streaming behind her and somehow looking a bit like Pyla (HINT HINT!  Its the other author!  *cough cough sneeze choke weeze*), slinked down the aisles to the row they were sitting in and hissed from an inch away from Connors ear, You never gave me your tickets.
	Connor did a vertical leap of about 20 feet, landing with a loud crack and breaking his seat.  HUH??  He accidentally yelped in the falsetto.  Ramirez rolled over, holding his sides and laughing like hed never stop.
	You never gave me your tickets.  I need to chop up your tickets.  My sword finger is getting twitchy.  Not wanting to find out what a sword finger was, Connor poked Ramirez in the ribs and got the tickets, handing them over to the ticket taker, who promptly had an attack of the killer samurai-itis, chopping merrily at the tickets until they were reduced to tiny bits of confetti.
	Thank you.  She skipped away, swinging her sword like a favorite dolly.

	Reea had drawn the short straw.  She had to take the TYs on a field trip to the White House.  (Hey, theres gotta be an educational excuse for a field trip, you KNOW this!  Its a law of the UNIVERSE for cripes sake!)  It had started off well enough, all the little demon spawns filing neatly across the Capitols lawn.  Pyla had handed her a camera, not saying where shed gotten it, but telling Reea to capture the entire thing on film so theyd be able to show Jareth how good theyd been on their field trip.  Unfortunately, the entire excercise went downhill from there.  As soon as they reached the White House, the President chose to greet them personally.  The TYs misunderstood what he said (Make yourself at home and enjoy your time in the White House... anyone want a Big Mac?) and began a game of tag.  The rules were simple: TYs were it, Bill was not.  They chased him around the House.  See Bill.  See Bill run.  Run, Bill, run.  When the Secret Service broke it up, carrying the gasping and wheezing President to safety, the TYs revealed their quick change talents, their costumes changing from frilly little play dresses to secret service uniforms.  All but one... who got confused and ended up looking like a Buckingham Palace guard.  Their ear pieces, as they did not know where to put them, ended up stuck up their noses.  Reea had them all hold that pose while she took several photos and painted their portrait.  Jareth would be proud.

	Pyla, however, was with Spike, hunting down Angel.  Hence, we shall call her activities the Angel Stalkings.  Or Stockings, if you really want to be perverse.  Everytime she turned her back, her hair ended up a different color, thanks to her Stalking partner in crime.  She returned the favor... Spike looks good with magenta hair.. and his bleached hair makes such a GOOD canvas...

The Movie Theater
	The Theater staff had decided to join our heroes (not) for a friendly flick.  And popcorn toss.  Being easily compactible, as all theater going teenage girls are, whenever they were in danger of being spotted by their targets, they dropped down into their seats, effectively disappearing.  In the small gaps between popcorn bombings, the Highlanders were bombing another movie goer, this one with a dark ponytail and looking not the least bit feminine... he was, however, sword wielding.  
	The black haired girl, having somehow done the impossible and emptied her Super Extra Grandiose Large Humongous Big Bin of popcorn, had dug out a sheaf of score cards and was scoring the movie stunts.  The scores were consistent "10"s.  Her friend the ticket taker was fingering the hilt of her sword, another fit of "killer samurai"-itis threatening.  She was infected for life.  
	Though he would later regret it, the not the least bit feminine looking pony-tailed sword-weilder chose that moment to realize he was not alone.  Ever spoiling for a fight, he made the mistake of drawing his sword.  The flash of light on metal caught the staff's attention, and the ticket taker, let's call her Arin'a, lunged at him.
	"HA HA!  AT LONG LAST, A WORTHY OPPONENT!" she cried, drawing her sword in one fluid motion, before hacking away at his pony tail.  The black haired one, let's call her Tousai, held up a score card, the upside down "10" denoting approval, but an unwillingness to share the high score for the movie with Arin'a, despite the quality of her performance.  Duncan, finally gaining something of his bearings, drew his sword from his coat, or at least, that's what it looked like he did... In fact, a convenient member of the filming crew ran up, handed it to him, then disappeared while the scene was still frozen.  Connor found himself absently wondering how he'd managed to draw the sword twice, but at a glare from Tousai, who apparently knew exactly what he was thinking and thougt he should be ashamed of himself for it, he promptly forgot about the entire issue.  You should too.  Really.

The Angel Stalkings
	Pyla grinned at the back of Spike's electric blue head.  She knew something he didn't, and it wasn't just his latest hair color.  Angel was standing on a street corner three blocks away from them, and Spike didn't know that.  Which meant Pyla had dibs.  JOY!  
	Conveniently losing Spike by running down a convenient alley while his back was conveniently turned, she stumbled across a convenient side street leading directly to the object of her desires.  Her desires to maim, destroy, torture, and generically freak out.  A convenient club in hand, she hammered the conveniently oblivious Angel into the side walk, conveniently unnotiiced by all others on the street, and ran off with him to a conveniently abandoned werehouse until he woke up and could be subjected to her designs.  How convenient.

Back at the Sleepy Hollow Grand Theater 25, now Showing the Duel of Duncan and Arin'a while 			watching Sleepy Hollow...

	We told you to forget about the entire situation!  Oh well... you're here anyway...

	Arin'a, wowed by Duncan's skill, had spared half his pony tail.  However, she had claimed his hair tie for her own.  Tousai was still flashing score cards, high scores for her partner in crime, low ones for Duncan the mohawk.  Eventually, Arin'a conceded a draw, even if the scores didn't reflect it, and bowed.  Duncan, partially caught by surprise, narrowly missed giving her a very close shave.  The staff chased all three immortals out of the theater, locked the door, and returned to the theater to drool over the sharp pointy things on screen.
	
	We told you to forget it.

Angel Stalking
	Angel awoke to the sight of a vat of whipped cream and gummy bears, a second vat of guacamole and licorice chips, and a third full of mashed twinkies.  It quickly came to his attention that he was tied to a support beam near the cieling with three long licorice whips.  He'd been in difficult situations before, but this was simply too weird.  
