[ it is late friday morning and buffy summers is attempting some
tricky meditation techniques in an unoccupied corner of the barracks. a
small (carefully arranged) pile of crystals sits a few feet away from her. without her ex-watcher's help, buffy is trying to sort out a little mystical inner peace and, without his help, it isn't going very well.
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[Oh, yes, he knows you. But you don't know him. Blame a certain pirate for that.]
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[ ...it's possible, she figures. she's been here a while. ]
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Ah, you won't recognize me! I was a pork meatbun then, it was in January, I think? Remember, the talking pork meatbun? That was me, Son Goku!
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But we met! You're Buffy Summers and I asked you how many summers you had and you told me I shouldn't talk because I was putting people off of all food ever, because meatbuns shouldn't talk never ever.
[He's not lying!]
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What else did I tell you, huh?
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[Thinking, thinking.]
Ah! You asked me when we first met what in Satan's left buttock was I... I still don't know who's Satan, you know.
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[ she sounds slightly aggravated -- but anyone who knows buffy more than casually can also hear the edge of acceptance. ]
That wasn't me. I mean -- it was me, but not me looking like me.
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[But who's Jack?]
Eh... It was you but not you looking like you? I don't get it.
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It was someone who looked like me.
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[But why didn't that person say so?]
Then we have never met... Oh well, my name's Goku! Son Goku! Nice to meet you!
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You're funny! But it's a pity you didn't see me, I was an awesome flying pork meatbun, I even rescued someone! Like the real pork meatbun!
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