Waiting for … Oedipus?
Rating: G
Word Count: ~850
Prompt: 49: The Great Plays
Characters: Core Four
Genre: Humor
Disclaimer: Not mine; no money.
AN: A missing scene from “The Puppet Show.” Buffy’d read the Beckett by “Enemies” in season 3, so I’m taking the liberty of placing it in the sophomore year English curriculum. I’ve also taken lots of liberty with how to interpret the play.
Written for still_grrr and posted there.
Award winner - details here.
“We’ve got to stick together.” Buffy chops the air in determination. “Share in the humiliation.”
Xander’s books thump onto the library table as he spreads his hands wide. “And hey, I’m good at humiliation! I’ve been doing it on a daily basis since Kindergarten.” His goofy grin fades as he looks back and forth between his friends, and he sits.
“Xander.” Willow throws him a frown and slides into a chair. “But what could we all do together?”
“I don’t know.” Perched on the edge of the table with one leg swinging, Buffy asks, “Can either of you dance?”
Xander’s loud “No!” overwhelms Willow’s.
“Okay, how about singing?”
This time Willow’s shout rings out, Xander’s “No” a bass-note echo.
After a few moments of silence, Willow sits up a bit straighter and says, “We could do a play.”
“A play?” Xander looks at Willow. “Do I know any plays?”
Buffy slides off the table and turns to face them fully, smile large and eyes wide. “I know. I know. We could do Waiting for Godot.”
“Umm, Buffy.” Willow bites at her lip before offering a weak smile. “It’s a good idea and all, but that’s pretty much a two-person play.”
“We could adapt it. It’s adaptable, right?” She starts pacing, gesturing towards her friends with alternating hands. “Ooo - like, Xander could be the one who always says, ‘What are we doing?’ and Willow could be the one who always answers, ‘We’re waiting for Godot.’”
“And what about you?” Xander says.
“Silly! I’d be the one who goes, ‘Ahhhhhh.’”
“Ahhhhhh?”
“Yes, ahhhhhh. There’s lots of prolonged ahing in this thing - it’s not a fluff job.”
“But how can you ahhhhhh?” His brow creases. “Don’t you need to play Godot?”
Buffy’s eyes narrow as she comes to a halt and looks at him. “You have Ms. Critcher for English fifth period, right? I thought she made every class read Beckett’s God-crisis wig-out two weeks ago.”
“Is that the one she played the black and white video of?”
“Yes.”
“I … ah … I got a little bored.”
“A little bored.” Buffy’s voice is flat.
Willow smiles. “That’s Xander-speak for he fell asleep.”
“That’s not fair! You two have English before lunch.” He pokes a finger towards them. “Try having the lights off and a full stomach and see how far you make it through the Gad … God … Gad-thing.”
“Godot,” Willow says.
“Right. And again, why don’t we need a Godot?”
Buffy throws her hands up in the air. “Because the whole point is that Godot never shows up. That’s why they’re waiting.” She puts the last word in air quotes.
“That …” Xander’s brow creases. “That sounds kinda pointless.”
Buffy slumps into a chair and sighs. “Willow, help.”
“Ms. Critcher explained that one can read the play as Beckett grappling with existential angst after World War Two - the idea that humanity needs to come to terms with the fact that there may be no God and it’s a waste of time to do nothing but sitting around waiting for something that doesn’t exist.”
Xander lays his head down on the table. “My brain hurts.”
“The thing is, see, you wait and wait and wait while watching the play, and nothing happens.” Buffy gestures towards Xander, hand palm up. “You realize that waiting sucks, so you go and do stuff - stuff without any waiting.”
Xander raises his head. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. That day we watched it? I staked three vamps.” She relaxes back into her seat, grinning triumphantly. “It’s like that carpet demon thing Willow told me the name of.”
Puzzlement creases Xander’s brow to be joined by pursed lips set to emit some form of “wh-” sound.
Before he can do so, Willow cuts in. “Not carpet demon - carpe diem. Seizing the day.” She frowns. “Though maybe there’s something between waiting and seizing, ‘cause the seizing thing isn’t always that great either, and -”
Giles bursts through the library doors, sending them swinging. “You lot are going to do a play.”
Buffy sits forward. “I know! We were just talking about -”
Giles drops a clipboard on the table and continues as if he hasn’t heard her, speaking quickly. “You’re going to do Oedipus Rex.”
“Oedipus what?” Buffy says.
“Rex,” Xander says, then turns to Giles. “Is that about a dog?”
“No, it’s the one by Sophocles.” Willow smiles, hands making arcs of excitement. “It’s supposed to be the most important Greek tragedy ever written.”
Buffy looks at Giles. “Okay, so it’s the Schindler’s List of its day, but why do we have to do it?”
Taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose, Giles says, “Because that tin-pot dictator said so.”
“Principal Snyder?” Xander’s voice rises as he pokes the air for each major point. “First he made us do the talent show, and now he’s telling us exactly how we’re supposed to be talentless? Is this some new kind of torture? Is this Oedipus play extra bad or what?”
“No.” Giles puts his glasses on and grins wolfishly. “Snyder actually told me that you have to perform it because it’s his mother’s favorite.”
Word Count: ~850
Prompt: 49: The Great Plays
Characters: Core Four
Genre: Humor
Disclaimer: Not mine; no money.
AN: A missing scene from “The Puppet Show.” Buffy’d read the Beckett by “Enemies” in season 3, so I’m taking the liberty of placing it in the sophomore year English curriculum. I’ve also taken lots of liberty with how to interpret the play.
Written for still_grrr and posted there.
Award winner - details here.
“We’ve got to stick together.” Buffy chops the air in determination. “Share in the humiliation.”
Xander’s books thump onto the library table as he spreads his hands wide. “And hey, I’m good at humiliation! I’ve been doing it on a daily basis since Kindergarten.” His goofy grin fades as he looks back and forth between his friends, and he sits.
“Xander.” Willow throws him a frown and slides into a chair. “But what could we all do together?”
“I don’t know.” Perched on the edge of the table with one leg swinging, Buffy asks, “Can either of you dance?”
Xander’s loud “No!” overwhelms Willow’s.
“Okay, how about singing?”
This time Willow’s shout rings out, Xander’s “No” a bass-note echo.
After a few moments of silence, Willow sits up a bit straighter and says, “We could do a play.”
“A play?” Xander looks at Willow. “Do I know any plays?”
Buffy slides off the table and turns to face them fully, smile large and eyes wide. “I know. I know. We could do Waiting for Godot.”
“Umm, Buffy.” Willow bites at her lip before offering a weak smile. “It’s a good idea and all, but that’s pretty much a two-person play.”
“We could adapt it. It’s adaptable, right?” She starts pacing, gesturing towards her friends with alternating hands. “Ooo - like, Xander could be the one who always says, ‘What are we doing?’ and Willow could be the one who always answers, ‘We’re waiting for Godot.’”
“And what about you?” Xander says.
“Silly! I’d be the one who goes, ‘Ahhhhhh.’”
“Ahhhhhh?”
“Yes, ahhhhhh. There’s lots of prolonged ahing in this thing - it’s not a fluff job.”
“But how can you ahhhhhh?” His brow creases. “Don’t you need to play Godot?”
Buffy’s eyes narrow as she comes to a halt and looks at him. “You have Ms. Critcher for English fifth period, right? I thought she made every class read Beckett’s God-crisis wig-out two weeks ago.”
“Is that the one she played the black and white video of?”
“Yes.”
“I … ah … I got a little bored.”
“A little bored.” Buffy’s voice is flat.
Willow smiles. “That’s Xander-speak for he fell asleep.”
“That’s not fair! You two have English before lunch.” He pokes a finger towards them. “Try having the lights off and a full stomach and see how far you make it through the Gad … God … Gad-thing.”
“Godot,” Willow says.
“Right. And again, why don’t we need a Godot?”
Buffy throws her hands up in the air. “Because the whole point is that Godot never shows up. That’s why they’re waiting.” She puts the last word in air quotes.
“That …” Xander’s brow creases. “That sounds kinda pointless.”
Buffy slumps into a chair and sighs. “Willow, help.”
“Ms. Critcher explained that one can read the play as Beckett grappling with existential angst after World War Two - the idea that humanity needs to come to terms with the fact that there may be no God and it’s a waste of time to do nothing but sitting around waiting for something that doesn’t exist.”
Xander lays his head down on the table. “My brain hurts.”
“The thing is, see, you wait and wait and wait while watching the play, and nothing happens.” Buffy gestures towards Xander, hand palm up. “You realize that waiting sucks, so you go and do stuff - stuff without any waiting.”
Xander raises his head. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. That day we watched it? I staked three vamps.” She relaxes back into her seat, grinning triumphantly. “It’s like that carpet demon thing Willow told me the name of.”
Puzzlement creases Xander’s brow to be joined by pursed lips set to emit some form of “wh-” sound.
Before he can do so, Willow cuts in. “Not carpet demon - carpe diem. Seizing the day.” She frowns. “Though maybe there’s something between waiting and seizing, ‘cause the seizing thing isn’t always that great either, and -”
Giles bursts through the library doors, sending them swinging. “You lot are going to do a play.”
Buffy sits forward. “I know! We were just talking about -”
Giles drops a clipboard on the table and continues as if he hasn’t heard her, speaking quickly. “You’re going to do Oedipus Rex.”
“Oedipus what?” Buffy says.
“Rex,” Xander says, then turns to Giles. “Is that about a dog?”
“No, it’s the one by Sophocles.” Willow smiles, hands making arcs of excitement. “It’s supposed to be the most important Greek tragedy ever written.”
Buffy looks at Giles. “Okay, so it’s the Schindler’s List of its day, but why do we have to do it?”
Taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose, Giles says, “Because that tin-pot dictator said so.”
“Principal Snyder?” Xander’s voice rises as he pokes the air for each major point. “First he made us do the talent show, and now he’s telling us exactly how we’re supposed to be talentless? Is this some new kind of torture? Is this Oedipus play extra bad or what?”
“No.” Giles puts his glasses on and grins wolfishly. “Snyder actually told me that you have to perform it because it’s his mother’s favorite.”