Finally, here's one of my favorite bits from Volume 3 of The Reality Engineers, entitled Geeking Apocalyptic Havoc.
“Damn,” said Lorenna at last, once Monstro had finished speaking. “So basically what you’re telling me is that it was you guys who’re responsible for exposing the whole alien threat . . . because you beat it!” She turned to Monstro. “You and your friends basically saved the world, and you never told me? What, are you thick? Hell, if I’d known that, it wouldn’t have taken you three months to get my panties off, you numbskull! Idiot!” She laughed, almost a different person than before the telling of the tale. Listening to their story had, at the very least, altered her perspective a little, or so it seemed to Buffy. What had really surprised her, though, had been Lorenna’s reaction to Misto’s new body . . . the girl had been thoroughly nonplussed by the sight, which was a wonder, given how conservative she could be with regard to science. Who knew—maybe having been what she’d been through already these past few days had numbed her somewhat, desensitized her to the madness inherent in being a part of this particular social circle. Either that, or she really was as liberal-minded as she claimed to be, and didn’t mind the idea of fucking an eight-foot-tall wolf-headed gorilla-man. If she didn’t, more power to her. She herself had been aghast—and to tell the truth, terrified—of the changes in Angelus when he’d first become a vampire. She wasn’t sure she could’ve handled it if he’d wound up like Misto had, and inwardly, she shamed herself for the thought. Perhaps Lorenna was stronger than she was. Again, who knew.
No matter, she thought. Angelus had still better keep his eyes off her ass. Then again, she also had more pressing things to think about. Such as saving the world . . . again. And saving herself. That was going to be weird. Try as she might to remember certain details of her captivity, though, much of it was garbled in her memory, so much static on her mind’s video-tapes. Why, she wondered? Did it have something to do with crossing her own timeline? Maybe Dizzy would know. Or Misto. (She steadfastly refused to call him “Monstro”—there was going by your ‘nym to be funny and weird, and then there was just being flat-out ridiculous.) Perhaps Schrödinger could offer some insight. She said so now.
“Well, it’s too bad we left him back in the bomb-shelter,” said Gadget. “He could probably really help us out with building the . . . what the frell are we calling it, again?” Buffy smiled. He and Dizzy did make a cute couple. “And should I do this consciousness-download thing? I don’t know . . .” Apparently, getting a girlfriend at long last hadn’t changed his problem with chronic indecisiveness. Poor guy.
“A Transcendental Reversal-of-Ontological-Paradox Engine,” replied Dizzy, “Engineered from Yesterday’s Ret-conned Inventions and Excursions, The acronym is a pun on the title of a filk song, Hope Eyrie: TROPE-EYRIE!”
“You have far too much free time on your hands, Roentgen,” said Victor, shaking his head. “I worry about you, I do.”
“In answer to your query, Buff,” said Dizzy, “we’ll simply have to go back and get Schrödinger, because you’re right . . . after all, when dealing with alien technology, it always helps to have an actual alien around to answer those niggling questions about the ultimate fate of all baryonic matter in the universe! And so on, and so forth. Besides, we’re the Reality Engineers, the hard-rockingest rock band this side of Europe—or Europa, for that matter. And we leave no roadie—nor kitty!—behind. That’s just how we roll, Lorenna. Yeah, that’s right. I was talkin’ to you the whole time.” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down at her. Lorenna merely regarded her strangely. Dizzy turned to Gadget. “Okay. If I send you back to get Schrödinger, are you gonna do something stupid, like get yourself killed?”
Gadget appeared to think it over for a second. “I’ll try not to,” he said and planted a smooch on her lips.
Aww, thought Buffy. They really are so cute together. If we survive this, we ought to throw a Dizzy-and-Gadget-Finally-Get-Together party.
“Do it or don’t, love,” said Dizzy, smooching him back, with tongue. Gadget looked as though he could explode with giddy lovestruckness. “There ain’t no try. Quoth Yoda, if he were a redneck.”
“I’m gonna be sick in a minute,” said Angelus, giving them a thumbs-up and a terrible rictus.
“See?” said Gadget. “How d’you guys like it?”
“Five bucks says you get creamed by zombies,” said Misto, grinning, though the rest of his face said he was worried, in the extreme.
“Oh yeah?” said Gadget, trying to sound confident. “Ten bucks—and a whole lot of hope—says I don’t.”
“You’d better not,” said Dizzy. “That would really put a damper on our wedding night.”
“Wait, out what?”
“Oh yeah?” said Misto, interrupting, “Well I raise you me going with you. Between bad aim and overkill, we’re bound to be able to defend each other.”
“Right,” said Dizzy, nodding in the affirmative. “My plan is forming, finally. So. You two go get Schrödinger, and meet the rest of us up in my lab . . . but remember: We may need Schrödinger, Gadget . . . But I need you. So please . . . come back alive.” She hugged him tightly, as did Buffy. She had a terrible feeling about this. Sending him out there, so close to him having had that breakdown a few minutes ago . . . was it a recipe for him to meet his fate? For surely if it had changed, he would’ve said so. She knew what Dizzy was doing, with all the wedding-talk and kisses—distracting him from thinking about dying. It looked like it was working. But once she was out of sight, and he was alone with his thoughts . . . she shuddered. Having witnessed his death once, she didn’t think she could stand to see it again, not without losing her mind . . .
“I know you’ll be safe,” she lied, and then, almost unaware that she was saying it, added, “because I’m going with you.”
“I am too, I guess,” said Lorenna, stepping forward. “Look, I know what I said earlier, but I want to—”
“The hell you say!” cried Angelus, grabbing Buffy by the hand tightly, surprising her. “You’re staying right the fuck here. With me. No arguments. The vampire has spoken.”
“Indeed,” said Dizzy, “I’m sorry Buff, but I need you and Angelus for the next phase of the plan.”
“Well, I have a question about that, actually,” asked Angelus.
“Does this phase of the plan involve the two of us venturing outside, and thus onto the set of Zombieland?”
“Well then I hereby humbly ask for a new assignment, Master Sergeant.” He snapped off a salute.
“No can do, soldier,” said Dizzy, “for your role in the plan is crucially important. Here’s what I need you to do. “Three blocks from here, and right next to the Denny’s where we always hang out, there’s one of those storage places, the kind you can rent for, like, a hundred bucks a month. It’s called ‘Pete’s Lock and Load Self Storage.’ I’ve paid on it since his death, five hundred smackers a month, for seven hundred square feet of storage, with a fifteen-foot ceiling. It’s been a long-kept secret, of course, but as you two already know but Lorenna and Victor do not . . . that’s where the saucer parts are, as well as all the parts to the Area 51 craft that my dad sent to me over the years. Plus some other stuff. I mean, what’s the use in secrets now? Get into the office at the place, and look up locker 3141592. I’m going to need, of course, the shrunk-down saucer—you’ll need all your super-strength to lift it, Angelus—plus the three containers full of other stuff sitting right next to it. Plus, we’ll need a dolly, big enough to lift a Coke machine. Oh. And of course, we’ll need a Coke machine. The one down the hall there should do. They should have trucks that Angelus can hot-wire at the storage place. Bring it all back here, and we’ll get started. As for me and Victor, here . . . we’ll head to his lab, pick up the stuff for Gadget’s consciousness-download—just to be safe, you understand, Gadget—and take it back to my lab. Now. Is everyone ready?”
“Hell no!” cried Lorenna.
“Nope,” said Angelus.
“Not even close, Diz,” said Misto.
“Are we ever?” asked Buffy.
“I’m sure as hell not,” said Victor.
“Anything for you, Diz,” said Gadget. “Always.”
Dizzy grinned savagely. “Just like old times, then.” She looped an arm around Gadget and kissed him once more. “You—come back to me. Everyone else? Ready, on three—” She put her hand out. Gadget put his in, as well. With a sigh, Angelus put his hand in, too. Then Buffy, then Misto, then—with extremely reluctance—Victor and finally, with even greater reservations in her eyes, Lorenna. Dizzy then said, “We meet back in my lab in one hour. One, two, three, break!”