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Disclaimer: Buffy belongs to Joss. Real Ghostbusters belongs to DIC. Godzilla: The Series belongs to Touhou. I will stubbornly continue to romanize Touhou this way because I can’t do special characters and “Toho” is a completely different word, damn it. This short is rated PG by the Motion Picture Association of America for language and mentions of violence. It follows “Another Vine Mess.”
Cinema Sins
It was raining when I came out of the theater, but I was okay with that. It was warm enough, being April, even for a transplanted Cali girl. I was in a pretty good mood, too; it had been a good day, and the horror movie I’d just gotten out had been a laugh a minute. Of course, my perspective might be a tiny bit skewed these days…
Most people wouldn’t have been laughing at how ridiculous the eldritch horror beyond the gates of time looked. Most people hadn’t seen an actual eldritch horror that used to be their town mayor go on a rampage at graduation. Most people hadn’t used a laser gun to shoot said horror in the head. That had been extremely therapeutic.
Of course, it hadn’t made up for the whole mess with all my family’s money being taken by the IRS, but that might have turned out for the best. I’d always planned to hit LA and try to make a go of things as an actress and model, but… mostly because I didn’t know what else to do with myself. Trying to make it in LA as a broke teenager was pretty much out of the question… and that’s when Sunnydale’s own loser brigade had come to my rescue. Again.
Ms. Calendar apparently had connections, and just like that, I had a receptionist job in New York City of all places, with flexible hours enough to let me try to break into modeling if I wanted. All of a sudden, I wasn’t that sure. And yeah, my new bosses were very possibly weirder than the group I’d spent the past few years half-adopted by, but… I didn’t care so much. Maybe I was starting to grow up.
The group behind me didn’t sound too thrilled with their own movie experience, and I’ll admit, I eavesdropped shamelessly as we were all headed toward the bus stop down the street. Hey, in Sunnydale, knowing the local gossip was sometimes the key to not waking up in a shallow grave. So to speak.
“He didn’t even look like me!” the chubby blond was complaining. Cute if you like that type, I guess. Not really my type, myself.
“Maybe not, doc, but they got your personality down pat,” was the gleeful reply from the Black kid with the dreadlocks. That tone was pure Xander, and for a second, I almost felt homesick.
A snort. “I know what you mean, Mendel. I mean seriously, Matthew Broderick?” That voice was lower, just rough enough to be sexy. I shot a look over my shoulder to see if the visual matched the audio. Red-brown hair, slicked back from his face since he wasn’t bothering with an umbrella or raincoat, and cheekbones you could cut yourself on, hellooo, salty goodness.
And then the penny dropped and I had to stifle giggles as I realized the situation. HEAT, New York’s own team of mutation specialists, had apparently gone to see the movie Hollywood had made out of the whole mess with the first Godzilla, a little over two years ago. Looked like they weren’t particularly impressed.
“At least you were in it, Nicky, I think I had all of five lines?” That would be Elsie Chapman, who I’d once heard described as a “vicious man-eating bitch” by a certain EPA agent who will remain nameless. And dickless. Peter and I had agreed that considering the source, that was a high compliment.
“I’m thinking you might have gotten the better end of the deal,” Nick Tatopoulos said dryly. “I’m pretty sure Audrey’s got grounds to sue. Not that I enjoyed finding out she’d recorded our entire conversation and put it on the news, but there’s a gap between that and stealing classified information out of a military encampment.”
“What did you think?” Whatshisname, Hernandez, directed that one at the fifth member of the group.
“I think that I do not know why I allowed you to talk me into this. The movie was atrocious, the volume was far too loud, and the popcorn was overpriced.” The dark-haired woman smirked. “However, I am amused that they appear to have gotten Philippe’s coffee addiction down.”
Dr. Craven folded his arms, his slicker making squeaky noises as he did so. “Is that going to be a problem for you guys? Covert and all?”
She snorted. “It is a Hollywood movie, ‘based on’ a true story. No one will believe that part of it was accurate.”
“Speaking of inaccurate, I about died when they used a dollar-store pregnancy test on the Godzilla sample,” Dr. Chapman threw in.
Dr. Tatopoulos rubbed his forehead. “Easier for the viewer to understand than a gel electrophoresis, but… yeah, that was pretty bad.”
The bus arrived then, cutting off conversation. I noticed the driver giving the five of them dubious looks, but she didn’t say anything, and we pulled out right on schedule.
Looking out the window, I had to snicker to myself. I had a job, an apartment, and now even some celebrity spotting-- what did I need LA for? Cordelia Chase was going to take New York by storm.
Owari
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A/N- Yeah, there are so many contradictions between Godzilla the movie and the cartoon, despite the cartoon’s first episode starting during the end of the movie, that I decided to just go the Real Ghostbusters route and state that the movie was a movie in-universe as well, based loosely on true events.
In this universe, the first Godzilla’s attack on New York occurred January of 1998, the night the Judge was introduced to the wonders of modern artillery, in fact. This may have had some derailing effects on Buffy canon...