Once upon a time there was a beautiful, baby-faced prince with hair the color(s) of strawberry, and vanilla. His name, simply Oz (or Strawberry Vanilla if you're cruel). His hair was so beautiful, in fact, that his wicked stepfather, Angelus felt somewhat threatened by him...afraid that his status as Hair God of all the kingdom (and the world) would diminish.
So, he put Oz to work in his courtyard, painting the hundreds of windows black, and repainting them when they chipped. Angelus made sure that he had a messy job to keep Oz's hair dirty, and he made sure to have the various servants throw buckets of water, flour, animal droppings, and tar out the window whenever Oz was under one, hoping to catch Oz on the head.
One day Angelus was standing in front of his grand, lavish, oval-shaped mirror, running his fingers through his carefully seperarted hair.
Angelus began to rehearse his everyday speech, "Magic mirror, which casts no reflection at all, who has the greatest hair of all?" Angelus smiled cockily.
The reflection of Angelus' mirror began to materialize, Angel had named it 'Snyder' because of it's snide voice, "There will be much sadness and revenge on this date, and for the prince you will feel much hate. For alas, my vampiric master, it is true, from this day Oz has better hair than you."
Angelus' eyes go wide as he begins to digest (not literally, of course) what 'Snyder' had said. "This can't be! I have the greatest hair! My skilled hand with the gel...my perfectly formed spikes...my subtle golden highlights!!! How?"
"He dodges your attacks on his tresses, and his hair shines golden-red as your nerves are in messes. No squooshy build-up and natural spikes is a flavor that virtually every man likes." 'Snyder' began to fog over.
"This is unacceptable!" Angelus stormed out of his room.
Oz was in the back courtyard, painting one of the windows over with zebra stripes. He heard someone approach from behind, and turned around quickly. He was faced with a tall, handsome man with long, curvaceous eyelashes.
"Oh sweet one with the stunted growth, and the spiky tendrils. I have heard the sweet sound of your guitar in the early morning, and I just had to know what sweet pair of hands was behind that grungy melody." Prince Xander held his hands, with his right foot parted slightly in front of his first foot, in a serenading fashion.
Oz furrowed his brow, "What well have you been drinking out of?"
Xander stood up straight, "Well, I only drink the finest bottled water imported from an island of the coat of Wales called Libraria. It's so pure."
Oz nodded, "I hear they make good stuff. Did you come here for a reason? Did you come to admire the King's lovely hair?" Oz asked blandly.
"No...I told you silly, I came for you. I believe I am in love, and I've come to steal a kiss."
"Uhhh, well, for a man of your gentlemanliness...if that's a word...it wouldn't need to be stolen."
Xander looked at Oz funnily, "Wha?"
"What I'm trying to say is...go ahead." Xander reached out and pulled Oz forward in to a sweeping embrace. He kissed him passionately.
Oz returned the kiss, but broke it off quickly and rushed away up to the balcony like the lady he was.
Angelus was back in his parlor, sitting in his overly elaborate and expensive throne. (Why's he got one of them? 'Cause he's rich!) He had summoned in his faithful hunter William. All the kills William had made in the forest had earned him the title of 'William the Bloody'. Whenever they called him that William would threaten to impale them with a railroad spike, but he never carried through on that threat. (Tcha! Not like he ever would, either).
"I've called you here today, William, to discuss the matter of Oz. He's been much of a trouble to me lately."
"Well, he has been better at dodging our attacks on his hair lately. Do you want us to start throwing more stuff?" William fingered the blunt end of his dagger.
"No. I want you to take him in to the forest to pick strawberries, or something, and kill him!" Angelus' eyes went darker as he got a cheesily devilish look on his face.
"K-kill him? But...look at his smooth face and his adorable smile? The little prince!"
"Oh Puh-lease! Just cut off his hair and bring it back to me in this to prove the deed is done," Angelus ordered, handing William a small oak box.
"A-all right your majesty." William walked out of the room with his head hung low.
William stole glances back at the midgeted man with the golden-red hair happily frolicking behind him in the moonlit (Not quite full, of course) forest.
William was trying to build up his killer's mentality, but each time Oz smiled at him he'd melt. He just wanted to strip Oz, pull the red feather out of his own hat, and play tickle games with him.
Oz bent down quietly and began to stare at the dew collecting on the shining green blades of grass. William had his chance, and he crept towards Oz slowly, withdrawing his dagger from his belt. Seconds before bringing it down in Oz's back, though, he pulled back, "I...I can't do it." Oz turned around, falling back on to a large log as he back away from William.
"Woah...uh, wha's going on?" Oz stared at the sharp silver blade that was lowering back down in to William's belt with a look of genuine horror.
"He wants you dead...you must run, and hide...somewhere!" William warned.
"Who? Who wants me dead?"
"The King! He will stop at nothing, child."
Oz took the advice of the gorgeous (had to throw that in) hunter, and began to run through the woods.
Oz ran and ran, until the trees and stuff moved, and began to take on the shapes of various monsters. It was fairly reminiscent of how it's like after taking some bad acid.
Oz ran, until he finally collapsed at the edge of a small cabin in a secluded spot in the middle of the woods. His vision had cleared up, and he was seeing things as they were again.
Oz caught his breath, and tentatively knocked on the cabin. No answer. He opened it up when he was sure no one was there.
He surveyed the front room. It appeared fairly normal, until he noticed the decor. There was seven sections of the room, and it was all decorated differently.
One section was fairly normal, except for the layout of hideous clothing.
The next section over had a computer, and a bed covered with stuffed animals. Dawww.
One over was a dark couch covered with poetry books, needlework of bees, and stuffed bees.
Next to that there was a place with an oak desk covered with old tomes, scattered papers and a tea set. There was also a tweed couch.
Just next to that there was a section of wall plastered with posters of Morrisey, George Michael, and Stephen Jenkins. Also, a large collection of Buster Keaton movies.
Next to that the wall wasn't any bearer. But, the poster's it bore were all of the Spice Girls, the Backstreet Boys, and 'N Sync.
The last part of the wall contained only Sci-fi images. Dragons, Wizards, Unicorns. Also, a large collection of D&D card games.
Oz's first impression was simple enough, "Yikes...what a whole bunch of dorks...seven of them."
Oz wandered around the domain of the 'seven dorks', trying to think of ways to de-dork it for them. He decided not to invade, but mostly 'cause he was a slacker and didn't wanna do any work. He crashed on the book guy's tweed couch.
The inhabitants of the cabin Oz was crashing in all stopped outside the door when they heard the sound of peculiar music emanating from their home. It had the oddest beat. None of them realized it, but what Oz was listening to was what was referred to as 'good' music.
Oz sang along as he sat cross-legged on the tweed couch, "Ocean Man, take me by the hand, lead me to the land...that you understand. Ocean Man, the voyage to the corner of the globe is a real trip..."
The dorks busted in the cabin, and Oz stopped singing, and turned off the music.
"Whoa! Who are you?" A short girl with awful clothes, and equally as bad hair asked.
"Uhh...I'm sorry I intruded...I had to hide. I would have died."
"What? Did the wizard lord send you?"
"Shut up Jonathan, you dopey bitch."
Jonathan stuck his tongue out at a blonde girle, "Leave me alone, Harmony. Don't be so grumpy."
Oz blinked a few times quite blandly, "Okay, enough with the adjective game...who are all of you?"
"I'm Buffy, and I'll make this easy, so we can find out who you are," the girl with the awful clothes said. "This," she gestured to a girl in a fuzzy sweater and overalls, "is Willow. She likes computers and Winnie the Pooh."
Buffy turned to a tall blonde man who was silently brooding, "That's Owen. He likes adventure, but he doesn't know how to make it himself...so he reads poetry, and makes bees." She pointed to the tweed-clad man next to him, "That's Giles. He'd old, so pay him no mind." Giles glared at her.
"Those two," Buffy wove her fingers at a blonde with a pony-tail and sporty gear, and a short brown-haired kid...with the traditional dork look to him, "That's Harmony and Jonathan."
Harmony smiled at Oz, "Do you like Sporty? My favorite is Sporty, but Posh is second runner-up."
Oz looked at her confusedly, and shrugged.
"That's Scott," he smiled at Oz, and sat down on his bed, looking at his George Michael poster admiringly.
"Well, I'm Oz...and, as much as it pains me to be in these living conditions, can I stay with you guys?"
"Uhh...well...where will you sleep?"
Oz smiled at the tall, mild-mannered librarian. "Got room for two on that couch?"
So Oz stayed in that tiny kinda scary house, in the woods (in the woods, in the woods, in the woooods) with the seven dorks.
The King thought himself successful in killing Oz, when William had brought him his hair. He stood in front of the mirror and began to recite the usual verse.
"Magic mirror, which casts no reflection at all, who has the greatest hair of all?" Angelus smiled cockily as 'Snyder' began to materialize.
"Alas, my bovine master, it is true. Oz still has better hair than you."
Angelus held up the oak box proudly, "Oz lays dead in the woods. I have his hair, along with his scalp, to prove it."
"It's sad I know, 'cause you'll scream like a girl, but what's in your box is the pelt of a squirrel. (You dumbass). He really lives in the woods, with the dorks, today, and I'm sure you find some way to make him pay."
Angelus screamed like a girl.
'Snyder' spoke again, "Oh yeah, and besides the matter of what's on you're head, the boy's paler than you without being dead! To shame." 'Snyder' began to fog over.
"I'm going to have to take this matter in to my own hands."
Angelus stormed in to his 'Boogedy-boogedy' room. He began to conjure up a spell.
He rifled through his ingredients, "A bottle of Clairol to golden my hair, and a tube of shrink wrap to reduce what's 'down there'. A drop of coffee to reduce my height, so as I'll become an innocent sight. To top it all off a school-girl's snicker, the look of a Girl Scout, what could be sicker?"
Angelus quickly mixed up the hair death, which would make Oz's hair fall out, and his scalp melt (ow), and laced it in the only thing, besides maybe a sugarcube, he thought he'd be able to get Oz to consume; a cookie.
He left with that, and a few more boxes of Girl Scout cookies for effect, and skipped to the woods.
Oz was busying himself as the seven dorks were off working in...well, wherever they worked to spread their dorkdom. He was busying himself with writing a new song, he had the chords down, but was still thinking up lyrics. "Jemmie does that jelly dance with those funky pants with the emerald seams. Jemmie does that groovy dance with the dowdy pants and the sapphire seams..."
Oz's creative flow was interrupted by a timid knock at the door. He put his guitar down, and walked over. He looked down at a golden-haired moppet of a girl in one of those Girl Scout uniforms. Dawww.
"Hey kiddo, selling any thin mints? Those are ubernummy."
"Yeah...um, may I come in for a second. I've been selling these durned things all night and I need something to drink." Oz nodded and let the seemingly harmless shell of Angelus in.
"You need to try our new kind of cookie." Angelus' shell held out a burgundy and green glowing cookie in the shape of a monkey with pants. Oz was hypnotized by it, and reached out to take it from Angelus.
Angelus looked at Oz, his soft face, his glowing and utterly gorgeous hair. He had a sudden image of him, and Oz...sweaty masculine limbs entangled together as they ran their fingers through each other's hair. A sort of gorgeous and holy union of wondrously beautiful men with wondrously beautiful hair. He couldn't do it. He couldn't get rid the humble, artistic, witty and lovely man before him. He withheld the cookie right before Oz touched it, and tossed it to the back of him. Oz raised his brow in confusion.
Angel reached in to his pocket, and took out the 'girl scout' anecdote cookie. He chomped on it quickly, and turned from the Girl Scout in to his lovely form of gorgeous hair and black leather.
"WOAH!" Oz jumped back, holding his hands up in defense. Angelus smiled slyly, and pulled Oz in to a sweeping embrace (he's so sweepingly embrace-able), kissing him fervently, and passionately.
Oz's knees melted, and he fell against Angelus' hold, "Huh."
Just kidding, later Prince Xander shows up at Angelus' castle, along with the seven dorks, looking for Oz. When Xander and the tweedy dork, Giles, realize that Oz is lost to them they form a bond, and live together happily ever after.
The rest of the dorks return to the cabin, and Buffy finds the magic hair death cookie. She eats it and her hair falls out, and her scalp melts.