The scene: A busy airport at the height of summer. The attendant looks over the departures desk at a fat woman.

“Mrs. Balloon.” Says the woman. The attendant can’t even be bothered to laugh at the comedy name.

“For America, is that correct?” The woman nods. The attendant hands her the tickets. “have a nice flight. Next?”

“Peter Bonk, for America.”

“Have a nice day. Next” The attendant glares at the unmoving man in the queue. “Next!”

“I’m down here, idiot!” came a voice from below the counter. The attendant peered over the desk to see a small child with an attitude problem, uncombed hair in pigtails, a floppy disk, and what would appear to be a machine gun.

“You’re on the flight, miss?”

“Rhubarb and err… Yikkai” [why the fake names? It's not as if they have identities worth concealing] the girl pointed at a slightly older boy sitting a long way off on a deserted bench. The attendant squinted and sniffed. The boy seemed to be covered in a tomato red rash and was dressed in a suit that appeared to be made of salad.

“Is that yak I can smell?” The attendant sneered.

“Do I get my tickets or what?” demanded the rude little girl. The attendant sighed and handed her a boarding pass.

“Miss. You can’t take that err... Toy gun onto the plane.” [ah, the days of carefree security pre 9-11]

“ But it doesn’t even work!” said the girl and then amazingly carried on speaking in a high tinny voice without even opening her mouth.

“Its makes people happy actually.”.

The little girl grinned and slapped her pocket. “It’s a toy miss. Where would a five year old get a machine gun?”[she’d be in jail by now in real life]

She walked away, poking her pocket and saying “Never- do- that- again – you – stupid…”

The attendant watched her go and shrugged. The man in the queue stepped forward.

“Ivor Biggdick. For America.”

* * * * * *

Approximately 112.2530126 miles away, in a small dusty boring house in a small dusty boring village, a man walked into a kitchen where a woman sat at the kitchen table typing on a laptop.

“Hey Red, I’m home. Where’s Beansprout?”

“Hey Barry,” Red replied, not looking up. “Actually I’m not sure. She was here a second ago.”

“Yeah?” Barry picked up an unmarked envelope on the table and began to open it.

“Mmhmm. She took some food out of the cupboards and put it in her suitcase. Then she asked me if she could have some money. Then she gave me a hug and said that She had to leave because Buffy was trying to kill her, but not to worry because Flibbage the faery would look after her because she has donkey magic.” Red continued typing for a few seconds, then stood up so fast she fell over backwards. “OH MY GOD!!! SHE RAN AWAY!!!”

“Well Duh!” Said Barry and paced up and down a little. ”What shall we do?”

“I’ll kill that Buffy! No, wait…” Red sat down at her laptop with a smile.

“What?”

“Beansprout got her magic sword and prophecy I guess. So let’s just give her a little nudge in the right direction.” She said, typing away. The screen faded to a pale purple as a butterfly flew across the screen tailing words behind it. ‘Acessing REALM mainframe… Welcome to FaeryNet’.

“Excellent,” said Red clicking on a folder titled ‘Cabbage Magic’

* * *

[The Lil’ stars are here! We need the lil’ stars! They’re cute! Do you know, the first time you ever drew the Lil’ stars, you actually wrote ‘AW! Cute Lil’ Stars!’ Talk about cult item.[...this is a awful lot of fuss to be making over a standard piece of narrative punctuation...]

This is what you get with the directors commentary, useless information that you don’t really care about.]

Silicon Valley USA. It’s hot. Very. Very. Hot.

My suit is frying!” Grumbled Yakky.

“At least you’re not living in a five year old’s pocket!” Said Flibbage’s voice. “It’s hotter in here. And there are things! When can I come out?”

“ When we get to a place where they believe in faeries, “ Beansprout replied, stopping in front of a pair of extremely large gates that led to an extremely large driveway that rolled up to an extremely large house.

“Can we go shopping after this?” Yakky whined. “If any more of my suits shrivels up and falls off, I’ll get arrested!”

“Shh!” Beansprout hissed glancing at the gate house. They ducked behind a bush and Beansprout tapped her pocket. “All clear Flib!”

Flibbage flew out of the pocket, and conjured up a little green leafy mirror. She looked into it and screamed “MY HAIR!!! DEAR GOD MY HAIR!!!”

“What’s wrong with your hair?”

“IT’S FRIZZY!!!” Flibbage threw the little mirror onto the expensive gravel path in a fit of fairy rage. “SEE THE FRIZZ??! SEE IT??”

“Shut up Flibbage” said Beansprout handing her a Sylvanian families hairbrush “Go and see what the guards are doing.”

Flibbage flew up above the bush and peered over at the guards, “Drinkin’ a Bud, watching the game…”

“True, True.” Said Yakky as the right sleeve of his jacket fell off.

“You really need a shower and some new clothes. But first,” Beansprout stood up and struck a dramatic and fearless leader pose, “We are going to visit a certain Mr. Bill Gates!”

* * * * * *

Bill Gates sat in his endangered pygmy African Wallaby chair wearing his authentic Stetson that was guaranteed to have belonged to Wild Bill Hickock, clutching a glass of the first champagne ever produced and watching his wall to wall digital surround sound TV.

“Hey Jeeves! Git up here, ya stinkin’ son of a gun!” A Butler appeared.

“More ridiculously expensive champagne, sir?”

“Ah’ll tell you when ah want more ridiculously expensive champagne, tansarn it! Am ah still the richest person in the world?” [Looking back on it, why on earth did I make Bill Gates a cowboy and not a nerd? I’ve really confused myself. Maybe because you have secret xenophobic feelings towards America. Although why anybody would dislike America I can’t imagine…]

“Good. Git me some Ice cream.”

“I’ll have someone fly directly to Italy for it sir.”

“And Ah feel like a vacation. Buy me Britain!”

“You already own Britain sir.”

“Well the rest of Europe then!”

“As you wish sir. Oh, and sir? Two young children were caught climbing the fence. Shall I feed them to the dogs?”

“Naw, they probably just want to thank me for making computer games cheap and addictive. Send them up!”[Bah. This is pre X-Box. The only games Microsoft had anything to do with were Age of Empires and Flight Simulators. And cheap? Gits.]

“Certainly sir.”

Jeeves disappeared and Bill gates went back to watching the film. It was Titanic, but Computer altered to star him and have Kate Winslet die instead.

“I’ll never let go Rose…”

Suddenly someone knocked at the door. Bill gates directed a stream of abuse in its direction, but it opened anyway.

“Tsk Tsk,” Beansprout said, herding Jeeves before her with the gun. “You’re warping my fragile little mind. Can I have a laptop?”

“Take it! Take them all!” Bill Gates screamed like a girl, “I’m too rich to die!”

“Thank you!” said Beansprout cutely, “Let’s go guys!”

A small faery flew out of the girl’s pocket. “We’ll have to use the Trans-dimensional Faery Fat Heif Theory of Transportation spell.”

“Which is?”

“Your weight in donkey replacing you in the world.”

“Okayyy.”

Bill Gates screamed like a girl as the children disappeared in a puff of smoke and were replaced by a three legged donkey appeared on his nice, clean and very expensive carpet.[why not a normal donkey that was slightly thinner?]

“So where are we?” Said Beansprout looking at a giant toadstool.

“Faerieland!”[perhaps faeries make ludicrous names for everything else in an attempt to make up for a lack of imagination in the early stages]

“Oh well of course. How did I not guess that one!?” Said Beansprout sarcastically as she started up the laptop and inserted the disk.

WHAT WILL THE PROPHECY BE?

JUST HOW MUCH HELP WILL RED BE?

WHERE IS BUFFY IN THE MEAN TIME?

FIND OUT- NEXT EPISODE!