Tales From the Nursery

Spike stumbled toward the farmhouse, the wounds on his arm and leg bleeding heavily. He needed to find help, or he still might be done for, and his only hope was that there was someone home up ahead. But as ‘Little Boy Blue’ drew near, he was shocked to find that it wasn’t real, none of it. He reached his hand out in front of him to touch the large blue house with grey shutters, but all it was, was a picture. The house, the grass, the barn and fields beyond it, even the sky was nothing more than a very detailed drawing that stretched out in every direction as far as the eye could see. He glanced behind him, and again the world looked real, but there was something about the way the clouds in the distance weren’t moving that gave him the wiggins, like he was stuck in a box or something. He turned back to face the wall in front of him where the real world seemingly ended and reached out to touch it again. It felt like paper. He gave it a slight push and found that it moved slightly with the effort. Spike swung his fist into it with all his force, pulling it away again to reveal a neat hole where he had struck the surface.

He took a moment to peer through the opening, but it was too dark to make out anything. He was filleth ath a sense of dread at the thought of going in there, but he needed help, and he needed to find the others. So, with fear in his heart, Spike grabbed onto the opening and began to tear at it until he had made a hole large enough to stumble through. But no sooner did he pass through the opening than he felt a heavy blow come down on top of his head, and he fell into unconsciousness again.

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Dawn couldn’t believe her eyes when she was suddenly able to turn the next few pages. First she was horrified to see a picture of Spike as he was being attacked by the sheep monsters, then relieved when she saw that he had somehow defeated them. The next page struck her as particularly odd, because there was a tear in it, right in the middle of the farmhouse. When she turned the page again, she saw Spike, still in his blue suit, laying on the ground near the tear, almost as if he had fallen through it. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? In a half circle around him was a group of short little men with picks, axes, and shovels. At the top of the page in blood red lettering were the words, ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarves’.

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Spike felt consciousness slipping back to him once again. There was a sharp pain in his head, but the pain in his arm and leg had been reduced to a low throbbing. He couldn’t quite figure out yet how to open his eyes, but his ears seemed to still be working as he heard gruff voices talking nearby.

“He could be the prince.”

“Prince, hah! Ponce is more like it.”

“I agree. Just look at those clothes.”

“Well, I say he ain’t no prince and we should just kill him.”

“But what if he is a prince? We could finally get the goff off our hands.”

“Yeah but we’ve been waiting around for ages, and no prince ever came before.”

“Even if he is a prince, she don’t look too good no more. How we going to get him to kiss her?”

“Oh he’ll kiss her all right, or I’ll chop his head off.”

Eyes working or not, Spike decided then that it was time to get out of there. He did manage to peel one peeper open, but instantly wanted to shut it again as he looked up at the seven little faces staring down at him. They were hideous. Their skin was mottled and grey, their faces smashed looking as if someone had been smacking them with a board. They had no hair on top of their potato shaped heads, but most of them did have long and rather dirty looking beards, excepting one who seemed to be younger than the rest, with no beard at all and ears resembling satellite dishes sticking out on either side of his head.

“W-where am I?” Spike managed to get out, moving his hand up to his forehead in hopes of keeping his head from falling off altogether.

“Oh good, he’s awake. How ya feelin’?” asked one of the little men.

“Lousy,” Spike said, finally getting his other eye open and sitting up slightly to see the extremely filthy cottage he was lying in. There were dirty dishes and laundry piled everywhere. There was also a layer of dirt and grime over everything, including the floor he was lying on. One of the little men helped him sit up, flashing him a frightening smile with teeth that were brown and mossy looking. “Who are you people?”

“I’m Happy”

“Well good for you mate,” Spike said sarcastically, “But I asked for your name not how you were feelin’.”

“That is my name. I’m Happy. To your left we’ve got Doc, then Bashful, and next to him is Grumpy…”

“Wait a minute, Doc, Bashful, Grumpy? Man, your mum must have really hated you to saddle you with names like that.”

“We’re not brothers of the flesh,” Grumpy said with a scowl, “We’re comrades and co-workers. This is ridiculous, I still say we should chop his head off.”

“Well, I know why they call you Grumpy. Oi! Hang on, I think I remember reading this one whewas was a lad…hmmm…seven little blokes, one lucky bird, chokes on an apple…Snow White?” The dwarves looked around at each other excitedly. He knew the story! Maybe he was the prince they had been waiting for after all. “So we’ve got Happy, Bashful, Grumpy, and Doc, that leaves…hmmm, don’t tell me…Daffy, Tweety, and Bugs?” Spike asked hopefully.

“That’s Sneezy, Sleepy, and Dopey, mate,” Grumpy quipped.

“Oh right, sorry.”

“So, if you’re really a prince, why don’t you just get on with it and wake our girl up,” Doc said.

“Right, yeah,” Spike stalled, knowing full well he couldn’t wake the chit up, but not wanting to mention it after the head chopping comment, “Well you know, I’m feelingit pit peckish, and a bloke’s got to have his strength u he’ he’s going to be lifting a magical curse ya know.”

“He’s right,” Happy interjected, giving Spike a look resembling a leer, “The poor fella’s been through a lot. We should let him rest and build his strength up a few days before he tries. It’s not like she’s going anywhere.”

“He has until nightfall, then he either brings her back or he loses his head,” Grumpy said, looking around the room for nods of approval. Spike rubbed his neck in an unconscious gesture as he lo at at the large axe the man held. “For now Happy and Dopey tie him up and get him some food. Me, Bashful, and Doc will head off to the mines. No sense in losing a whole day’s work. The rest of you guard our prince here.”

Soon after they left, the others forgot all about their guard duty and moved on to playing cards and drinking. Spike kept hoping they would eventually get drunk enough that they would pass out and he could find a way to escape, but so far no luckppy ppy finally came back with something that looked like stew but smelled foul. He offered to feed it to the blonde man, flashing him another mossy grin, but Spike shook his head in refusal. The little man frowned looking slightly hurt, but sat next to his hostage, taking occasional bites from the bowl with a wooden spoon.

“You know they’re going to kill you if you don’t wake her,” Happy said carefully.

“Yeah, I kinda got that impression, mate.”

“You can’t wake her, no prince could. She’s been dead for years, but the others are convinced that since it was a cursed apple that’s killed her, somehow it could be reversed. Don’t know why they want her back anyway, stupid girl was always in the way. She couldn’t even cook properly.”

“Right. Well, you seem like a reasonable fellow, how’s about loosening these ropes a bit and letting me go?”

“Wish I could, but then they’d chop my head off. It’d almost be worth it for a cutie like you though,” Happy said wistfully, running his hand up Spike’s leg.

“Oi! What do you think yer doin’ ya bloody poofster!” Spike squeaked out in surprise, tr uns unsuccessfully to scoot away.

“Well, normally I’d be more subtle, but you’re the first real man to come along in ages, and since they’re going to kill you tonight anyway, I thought maybe…”

“Maybe what?! You’d bugger me while I’m bound and helpless?!”

“Oh dear, no. I’m not that kind of dwarf, I was just kind of hoping you swung my way. I mean yon’t n’t really blame a fellow, can you? After all, look at the way you’re dressed.”

“Well, yeah, I guess I can see how you’d make a mistake like that. But I’m strictly a ladies man, got it?”

“Got it,” he said regretfully, “So does that mean there’s a lucky lady out there that gets to snuggle up with all that lovely flesh at night?”

“Well, not at the moment. There was a chit that I had around for years, but she was loony that one. I finally had to give her the brush off,” he lied.

“But no new lady yet?”

“Yeah, there is this one bird, but I don’t have her yet. She’s got hair like fire and a temper to match. Usually she’s kinda quiet though, helping her mates, doing research on her computer, stuff like that. Not sure if she even knows I’m alive, or well un-dead. Although, ‘could be that I’m alive now, I mean the sun didn’t burn me up, and I did need to catch my breath before I could blow my horn and blow those sheep up…hmmm…”

“Sneezy must’ve hit you on the head harder than I thought,” Happy said with concern, checking the lump on his head.

“What’s with the names anyway, Sneezy, Grumpy, Sleazy…”

“It’s Sleepy, if anyone is sleazy, it’s Bashful. Don’t let that shy routine fool you. Anyway, they’re nicknames. Really their name is Joe.”

“All of them?” Spike asked in disbelief.

“Yep, had their own little club going but it got right confusing so they came up with these other names.”

“So I suppose your name’s actually Joe too.”

“Nope, it’s Cyril, but don’t tell them that or they’ll kick me out, and I need the work.”

The rest of the day passed quickly, with Happy telling Spike all about their diamond mine, and Spike sharing about his past adventures as a vampire and how they all came crashing to a halt after meeting Buffy. Before they knew it, the others were back, and it was time to kiss the girl and prove once and for all if he could wake her.

They led Spike out into the woods by torchlight to a small awning that was providing cover to a glass coffin propped up on a pedestal. Sleepy slid back the bolt on the side and lifted the lid to reveal the lifeless corpse of a girl that was long dead. Her skin was sunken and shriveled so that she more closely resembled a mummy than the fair maiden she once was. Happy was right, no magic kiss was ever going to wake this girl up. Spike looked over his shoulder at the little men holding picks and axes, ready to chop him to pieces if he failed. There was only one thing left to do, stall.

“Hey, fellas, how ‘bout a joke first?”

“No jokes, just kissing,” Doc said.

“Yeah, but I gotta loosen up my lips first. A joke would help.”

“Let him tell the joke, Doc, she’ll keep, and besides I know I could do with a bit of a laugh,” Happy offered helpfully, hoping the gorgeous man had some sort of plan.

“Right,” Spike began somewhat nervously, “What’s red and has seven dents in it?”

“What?” Grumpy asked with a snarl.

“Snow White’s cherry! Hah! Get it?” He glanced around and saw seven confused looks. “Wow, tough crowd. Oh well.”

And with that Spike grabbed Sleepy and hurled him into Sneezy, or maybe it was Bashful. It was hard to tell the little guys apart. Suddenly, a spray of blood washed against his back, and he turned to see Doc, axe still in hand, fall to his knees with a pick sticking out of his head. Turning further, he saw that Happy was now fighting Grumpy, and hoped the little guy could hold him off for a bit while he took care of the other four. Grabbing up Doc’s axe, Spike went after the four dwarves with a vengeance. He made quick work of them too. They may have been strong, but they were still small and slow, and frankly didn’t have the leverage that the blonde man did. A few decapitations later and all that was left was Happy and Grumpy, swinging back and forth with their weapons. Unfortunately, as Happy was dodging a swing of Grumpy’s axe, he stumbled, dropping his pick. The other dwarf gaze an evil grin, convinced that victory would be his.

“Oi, Cyril! Heads up!” Spike yelled, throwing him the axe in his hand. Happy caught it and swung it, continuing with the momentum and cleanly cut Grumpy’s head off.

“That’s for never telling me you liked my bunt cake, you bastard.”

To be continued…