ANGEL
"Leftovers"
By Zaen

TEASER

FADE IN:

INT. LOS ANGELES APARTMENT – LATE AFTERNOON

A sparsely adorned kitchen and dining room of a cozy apartment. Pots bubble on the stove. A cornucopia centerpiece and 5 place settings adorn the dining room table. Two blue hands carry a platter with a grotesque Jack O Lantern pictured on it. The platter is dropped with a clang onto the table and we PAN UP to see ILLYRIA.

ILLYRIA
The sacrificial domesticated fowl will rest upon this.

ANGEL, wearing a full apron over his black on black dour outfit, comes into the dining room, drying off a plate.

ANGEL
That's for Halloween, Illyria. A Thanksgiving platter should have a turkey on it, remember?

ILLYRIA
I find that utterly redundant. I refuse to render my cremated gallinacean redundant.

ANGEL
Just cover it up or something. I don't want to scare Connor's new girlfriend to death the first night I meet her.

ILLYRIA
It matters not. She's more likely to die at the hands of the salmonella and other pathogenic microorganisms infesting the food, not this cheap circular dish.

ANGEL
True. I'll go turn up the oven.

SPIKE emerges from the kitchen holding his oversized oven-mitted hands up in a defensive gesture.

SPIKE
You'll do no such thing. I got the oven just where I want it for me pies. They're at a very fragile stage right now, and any change in the temperature, no matter how minute, could be their undoing.

The other two exchange glances.

SPIKE
Hey, I take my baking very seriously.

ANGEL
When in your 150 some odd years have you ever baked?

SPIKE
I'll have you know that before my mum was struck by the consumption, she taught the old man here the finer end of a mince pie.

ILLYRIA
And this is the reason that you killed her?

ANGEL
No, he killed her because she tried to have sex with him.

SPIKE
Hey, she was raving mad at the time, you know!

ILLYRIA
She would have to be.

SPIKE
(pointing at both angrily before returning to the kitchen)
No pie for either of you!

ANGEL
Thank God.

ILLYRIA
I do not know why I agreed to take part in this farce for the benefit of your offspring. It is only my ennui that prevents me from plotting to destroy the entire human race. I tire of your holidays, your brightly colored disposable decorations, and these ritualized binges. If I were so inclined, I'd decimate this entire country—hey! Spike is pouring vodka into the mashed potatoes!

Illyria and Angel rush off camera into the kitchen. A loud scuffle is heard but not seen.

SPIKE (O.C.)
Ow! Get off me! What do you care, we're not eating this sh—

BLACKOUT

END OF TEASER

ACT I

SCENE 1

INT. DINING ROOM – LATER

The final fork is laid in place on the table, and the trio stands back to admire their handiwork.

SPIKE
It doesn't look kinda skimpy? Shouldn't every inch of the table be covered in some sort of food or side dish or gravy or something? Ain't that how it goes?

ANGEL
What do you know about Thanksgiving anyway?

SPIKE
I've had a few holiday meals in my time. I once ate a whole family who were nearly bursting at the seams from turkey. I never slept so good.

ANGEL
There's plenty. We're not feeding an army here. And since we're low on cash—

ILLYRIA
(exasperated)
If money is so important in this wretched plane of existence, why do we not just make some? You say it is made from paper? There are trees right outside this domicile.

She picks up a large butcher knife and points toward the front door.

ILLYRIA (CONT.)
Let us kill one of these trees and create money. Tomorrow is Black Friday, and Target opens at 5 AM.

Angel grabs the knife and places it down next to the turkey.

ANGEL
There will be no killing of trees. We've just got to figure out what our next move should be. I doubt Wolfram & Hart will hire me back after we took out the Circle of the Black Thorn.

SPIKE
You think? After we exterminated their emissaries on earth and just barely survived the aftermath—do you really think they're gonna give us our offices back?

ANGEL
(wistfully)
I miss that office. It had an elevator.

ILLYRIA
And the second floor vending machines always had copious amounts of Fanta Grape.

ANGEL
Well, that's over now, guys. The only reason we aren't dead too is because the Powers That Be intervened and somehow convinced the Senior Partners not to destroy us.

SPIKE
They could have just killed us. At least you got a severance package.

ANGEL
Yeah. Shanshu or not, I guess the Senior Partners and/or the Powers still have plans for me.

SPIKE
You mean "us."

ANGEL
How can I forget?

SPIKE
Why don't we just become professional demon-stomping, crime fighting do-gooding superheroes? Or movie stars, whichever pays more.

ILLYRIA
Yes. I require more amenities than your unemployment check allows.

ANGEL
Well maybe some people in this apartment should get a job. It's been 6 months, and we've been on this little "vacation" ever since. Rent's due next week, and this little feast has tapped us out. It ain't easy getting unemployment when you don't have a social security number. Or a pulse.

Spike and Illyria look at each other.

ANGEL
What?

SPIKE
We were thinking that, uh, maybe you could borrow some cash. From Connor.

ANGEL
What?

SPIKE
(pointing at Illyria)
It was her idea!

ILLYRIA
It was not. He is only saying that to spare your wrath. The blonde one fears you and dotes on you at the same time. It is disgusting.

SPIKE
You backstabbin' blue bitch!

ILLYRIA
You peroxided sycophant!

ANGEL
Ladies! Quit your yammering. Connor's gonna be here any minute, and I don't need your bickering spoiling the already fragile vampire-son relationship we have.

SPIKE
She started it!

Illyria stretches her hand out to give Spike the finger—her ring finger. Spike snickers.

ANGEL
We really need to find work. If we stay cooped up together any longer, we're gonna rip each other's throats out.

ILLYRIA
I would have done so to both of you already…but since Wesley was taken from me, I have no other guides in this me-forsaken dimension but you two. That is the only reason I continue to allow you two to live. That and…Spike's homemade guacamole is somewhat palatable.

SPIKE
(touched)
See? She likes my cooking.

Suddenly the doorbell starts ringing. Angel, Spike and Illyria look around to make sure everything looks ok.

ANGEL
Ok, guys. Be nice.

SPIKE
For sure we will.

ANGEL
I mean it. Let's just pretend to be a normal, happy, healthy fam—look, just don't say anything!

ILLYRIA
(miming zipping her mouth)
My mouth shall remain closed, like my legs.

SPIKE
Right. We should buy stock in Duracell for all the loot they make off you, babe.

ILLYRIA
Am I to blame for the base carnal desires of this human body? I disgust myself!

ANGEL
Would you two cut it out? If you can't play nice for one evening, then I don't know what!

SPIKE
Unbunch your panties and open the door.

Angel smoothes his hair—straight up—and reaches for the doorknob.

ANGEL
Um, Illyria, maybe you should, well, not be so, uh, you know. Blue.

ILLYRIA
Very well.

Illyria instantly morphs into FRED, the young human woman whose body she took over and destroyed 8 months earlier.

FRED
Hi, ya'll! I'm sweet and kind and everyone loves me!

SPIKE
Show off.

ANGEL
Ok, here goes.

Angel opens the door to reveal CONNOR, his 20 year old son, and PATRICIA, a very attractive blonde woman who looks to be a few years his senior.

SPIKE AND ILLYRIA
Nice.

CONNOR
(quickly closing the front door, shutting out the fading sunlight)
Hey, Ang—um, I mean Da…uh, Happy Thanksgiving.

ANGEL
C'mere, you!

Connor rolls his eyes as he's pulled into a warm hug.

SPIKE
Touchy feely. It's so 70s.

ANGEL
Have you grown? You look taller! Doesn't he look taller?

CONNOR
(presenting the girlfriend)
So, um, this is Angel, and that's Spike and that's Illyrrrrrr…Fred. Everyone, this is Patricia.

ANGEL
Please, come in! Can I take your coat? How warm is it out there? Did you drive? Do you need anything? Did I offer to take your coat?

SPIKE
Ain't that cute? He's nervous.

PATRICIA
(offering her hand)
It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Angel!

ANGEL
Please, just call me Angel.

PATRICIA
If you insist.

They shake hands, and Angel picks up something slightly off about this woman. He shrugs it off and takes her coat to hang up.

ANGEL
I'm pretty sure you've grown about three quarters of a centimeter, Connor.

CONNOR
I think I'm exactly the same height since you last saw me.

ANGEL
No, I'm sure you're taller. And you look smarter, too. Doesn't he look smarter?

SPIKE
(sarcastically)
And his teeth are brighter and his hair is shinier, too!

CONNOR
(tapping down hair bashfully)
Stop it, you guys.

SPIKE
Hey, devil spawn.

The two engage in mock play boxing.

SPIKE
Ooh, the boy's been practicing!

Spike tousles Connor's hair, then grabs him and gives him a noogie.

CONNOR
(laughing)
Quit it, Uncle Spike!

ANGEL
(quickly separating the two)
Stop it! And stop calling him that! He is sooooo not your uncle!

PATRICIA
Um, if he's not your uncle, then why do you call him that, honey?

Angel and Spike exchange quick nervous glances. Fred rolls her eyes and steps forward.

FRED
Hi! I'm Fred! That sure is a pretty dress!

PATRICIA
Why thank you! And yours is…

Patricia looks Fred up and down and clears her throat.

PATRICIA
What a nice apartment!

Patricia leaves Fred dumbfounded and strolls around the living room.

PATRICIA
Your apartment is lovely. But my, it's so dark! Here, I'll just open this curtain—

ANGEL/SPIKE/CONNOR/FRED
No!

Patricia pulls on the curtain, sending Angel and Spike nose diving behind the couch as late sunlight comes like a blast through the window. Connor races over to quickly close the curtains.

PATRICIA
What's the matter?

CONNOR
Uh…um…oh! They've been up all night—cooking and stuff. So, you know…hangovers…sunlight hurts the eyes, that kind of thing.

SPIKE
(from behind the couch)
Bloody hell! Wench did that on purpose!

ANGEL
(also from behind the couch)
It was an honest mistake! We're fine! Everything's fine and completely normal! Patricia, would you like some iced tea?

CONNOR
Don't worry, honey, we just have to, you know, keep the curtains closed until dark. Ok?

PATRICIA
(suspiciously)
If you say so.

Fred pops up next to Patricia, startling her with a plate or hors d'oeuvres.

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
Your speech pattern annoys me. Plug your mouth with food.

PATRICIA
Excuse me?

FRED
(with Fred's voice)
Uh…I mean…finger sandwich?

SPIKE
(head popping up)
Finger—those are the best canapés the price club had, love!

ANGEL
(head popping up, grabbling Spike by the collar)
I told you no using the credit card until we know if this girl is more than just a flavor of the mo—

Everyone looks at Patricia, who shifts nervously.

ANGEL
Those puff pastries?

BLACKOUT
SCENE 2

INT. LIVING ROOM – LATER

Connor and Patricia are sitting on the couch talking when Angel brings them both beverages. He sits on a chair across from them.

ANGEL
So! Patricia. How long have you two been dating?

PATRICIA
It's been a couple of months now, right?

CONNOR
Yeah.

ANGEL
You two seem very happy together.

PATRICIA
Well, your son is a great guy.

ANGEL
I agree.

Connor smiles embarrassedly.

PATRICIA
And I can see where he gets his rugged good looks from!

ANGEL
Oh, I like her already!

PATRICIA
So I'm curious—why did you abandon him and put him up for adoption?

Angel gives a fake smile and clutches his glass.

CUT TO:

INT. THE KITCHEN – CONTINUOUS

Spike removes his second precious pie from the oven and smiles proudly at it.

SPIKE
Still got the touch.

Illyria appears right next to him, startling him so that he fumbles the pie and nearly drops it.

SPIKE
Oi! Stop doing that! You're worse than Angel!

ILLYRIA
How long must this ritualistic food orgy last? I tire of wearing the Burkle body.

SPIKE
(gingerly setting down pie on cooling rack)
If Connor's bird sees you looking like that, she'll freak, and then we'll never hear the end of it.

ILLYRIA
Yes. If I must be tormented by another of Angel's soporific lectures, I shall eviscerate him. Now, step aside so I can remove the green bean casserole.

CUT TO:
SCENE 3

INT. THE LIVING ROOM – MOMENTS LATER

Angel sits visibly uncomfortable in a chair, smiling affectedly and nodding at Patricia. We pan over to see the source of Angel's discomfort—Patricia has removed her sweater to reveal a large cleavage, which buttresses an even larger crucifix.

PATRICIA
(in mid sentence)
Contrary to what the liberal media would have us believe, it's obvious that the country is fully in favor of the president's foreign policy. I'm sure we all agree that we must stay the course, no matter how long it takes until the…well…until those people come in line. As far as I'm concerned, we should just bomb that whole part of the world and be done with them!

She smiles triumphantly and sips her iced tea. Angel tries to push back as far into the chair as possible.

ANGEL
Well, uh, politics is such a, uh, divisive topic—

PATRICIA
Oh, what an interesting piece!

Patricia stands up to look at an objet d'art sitting on the mantelpiece directly above Angel's head. As she leans over Angel, her cleavage and the oversized crucifix dangle inches from his face. Angel squirms, but bites his tongue when he sees his son marveling at his first real girlfriend's figure.

ANGEL
(under his breath)
I'm a good father…I'm a good father…

Spike enters from the kitchen with another platter.

PATRICIA
What exactly is this…thing?

SPIKE
That is a shrunken head of a Bovat demon I fought when I—

Spike sees Angel desperately trying to squirm away from Patricia and can barely stifle a giggle.

SPIKE (CONT.)
I mean, it's just some sculpture Angel made in pottery class. Good old Angel. He's comfortable enough in his masculinity to take a pottery class, he is. Sometimes late at night, I can hear him crying.

PATRICIA
Really?

SPIKE
Yes! Baby carrot?

Patricia takes a baby carrot while Spike further enjoys Angel's discomfort.

ANGEL
(mumbling)
I'll…kill…you.

Patricia moves away to look at some photographs on the mantle. Angel shudders and kicks Spike in the shin. Spike swallows a yelp and the two of them start to lunge at each other to fight, but then Connor clears his throat and the two vampires recoil.

Patricia picks up a photograph of Angel and Charles Gunn.

PATRICIA
Who's this?

CONNOR
That's Gunn. He used work with Angel.

ANGEL
(sadly)
He's no longer with us.

PATRICIA
Oh, I see. Did you have to fire him? Affirmative Action hire gone bad?

ANGEL AND SPIKE
WHAT?

PATRICIA
It's ok, it's just us. What did he do, steal? Get violent? Was he in a gang?

ANGEL
(fuming)
He died helping to save the world you imbecilic—

Spike grabs Angel by the neck and starts pulling him back toward the kitchen.

SPIKE
Did you forget to take your pills again? I'll just get the old man's meds down his gullet, and we'll be ready to poke that turkey! Right!

CUT TO:
SCENE 4

INT. KITCHEN – CONTINUOUS

Spike shoves Angel into the kitchen where they start to pace frustratingly in the tight space. Illyria drops the heavy turkey roaster on top of the oven with finality.

SPIKE
Soul or no soul, I think I may have to eat her!

ANGEL
Can you believe this woman? Can you believe my son likes her?

SPIKE
What's the world coming to?

ANGEL
Even when I was evil I never said things like that!

ILLYRIA
Is Connor's new romantic interest evil?

ANGEL
No. Just extremely right wing and apparently racist.

ILLYRIA
Racist. I saw such racists on television. They drove automobiles very fast in a circle. Humans applauded them and consumed alcoholic beverages. Explain.

SPIKE
(sighing)
I can see it's time to bust out Mr. Dictionary again.

Connor comes into the kitchen.

CONNOR
Hey, guys. So…what do you think?

ANGEL
What—why—I mean—is this some sort of teen rebellion thing? Is that why you're dating her?

CONNOR
No. I like her. She's different. She can be very sweet.

ANGEL
When she's not spreading reactionary propaganda.

CONNOR
Well…sometimes…she kinda makes…sense. Sometimes.

SPIKE
Uh oh, Angel. Your boy's been sniffing the glue again.

ANGEL
You really like her?

CONNOR
Yeah. Maybe. I don't know. I know she can be a handful, but…she's my girlfriend. Can you just give her a chance, ok? Please?

CLOSE UP on Connor's big, pleading puppy dog eyes and the smirk that says he knows he'll get his way.

ANGEL
If she means that much to you, then I'll try. We'll try. Right, guys?

Spike and Illyria roll their eyes.

CONNOR
Thanks! Oh, the turkey looks great, by the way!

Connor happily leaves, but not before ripping a small piece off the pristine turkey and popping it in his mouth. Illyria's eyes turn black.

ILLYRIA
The son of the vampire has desecrated my main course! Bring me the contents of his stomach now!

Angel pours himself a tall drink and pushes on the swinging kitchen door.

ANGEL
This is going to be a long, long night.

Spike watches Angel leave and then looks down at the turkey.

SPIKE
Just stick a bit of fresh parsley on it with some gravy and it'll look fine.

Illyria smirks at the so-called badass vampire incredulously.

SPIKE
What?

CUT TO:
SCENE 5

INT. DINING ROOM – LATER
Angel, Spike, Connor, and Patricia sit at the dining room table. Angel and Spike are both on their second drinks.

PATRICIA
If you ask me, we should ship them all back to where they came from! They're not real Americans, am I right? Too many foreigners here already!

CONNOR
Uh, honey?

PATRICIA
(slightly embarrassed)
Uh…I, uh, I didn't mean all…um…not like you, Spike. Not, um, Euro—well…you know what I mean.

SPIKE
I'm the good kind of illegal alien!

PATRICIA
Exactly! English people are fine. Their cooking is horrendous—

SPIKE
(calling toward kitchen)
Isn't it time for the turkey yet!

PATRICIA
And all those ridiculous music trends. That whole 70s punk thing was just ridiculous—

Spike slams a hand down on the table. Head cocked, he smiles at Patricia's long neck.

SPIKE
You know, I'm so hungry I could eat a…lot of things.

Angel smiles, enjoying how irritable Spike is becoming.

ANGEL
She has a point.

Illyria, now morphed back into Fred, emerges from the kitchen with the turkey on a large metal platter.

FRED
(proudly)
Ok, everybody! It's time for tur—

PATRICIA
And don't even get me started on the Irish—

Angel, still laughing, grabs the metal platter, pulls it out from under the turkey and throws it like a Frisbee so it slices it through Patricia's neck, decapitating her in mid-sentence, before catching it as it returns like a boomerang and replacing it under the turkey before it can even fall.

FRED
—key.

CONNOR
(annoyed but not surprised)
Dad! What happened to keeping an open mind?

SPIKE
(watching Patricia's head roll to the floor)
Nice aim, Liam!

CONNOR
Dad!?

Angel starts, waking suddenly from his fantasy, to find them all staring at him and his hand firmly clutching a large carving knife.

ANGEL
You know what, Patricia, I think you'd better…

Connor's eyes narrow into the, "Holtz/Quor-Toth/Jasmine/I remember everything" stare. Patricia looks around at all of them, and for the first time feels very uncomfortable…perhaps even a little frightened.

ANGEL
(calming himself)
You'd better excuse me.

Angel jumps up and heads back toward the bedrooms, passing Fred as she places the large turkey on the table.

FRED
Angel? Aren't you going to carve the turkey?

Spike jumps up and grabs the knife from her.

SPIKE
Better let me handle that, love. I don't think leprechaun boy can be trusted with sharp objects right now.

Patricia looks curiously at Connor.

CONNOR
Angel was born in Ireland.

PATRICIA
Ohhhhh! I should have guessed. I noticed he was drinking a lot.

A crashing boom is heard from the back of the apartment.

ANGEL (O.C.)
Son of a bitch!

SPIKE
(to Patricia, butcher knife and fork in hand)
I guess you'll be wanting white meat?

BLACKOUT

ACT II

SCENE 6

INT. ANGEL'S BEDROOM – LATER

Fred knocks on Angel's door and walks in smiling. Angel sits in a chair in a dark corner, brooding.

FRED
It's time for Thanksgiving dinner. You said you wanted to carve the turkey, remember? If you don't come now, I think Spike might end up carving Connor's girlfriend instead!

Angel crosses his arms stubbornly.

FRED
Oh, come on. Connor is in college now, and he's trying to expose himself to all sorts of people. He's experimenting. He's probably into lots of new things: illicit drugs, non-Western philosophies, alternative sexuality—

ANGEL
Ew! Don't tell me that!

FRED
But it's true! He's just trying to figure out who he is, Angel. This girl is probably just a fling. He'll go with her to a few Young Republican meetings on campus and get it out of his system in no time.

ANGEL
Maybe.

FRED
Besides, he's probably only dating her because she's a hellcat in the sack!

ANGEL
Are you trying to make me throw up? Because I really will! I'll do it; I'll throw up right now—

Fred morphs into Illyria.

ILLYRIA
I tire of assuaging your paternal insecurities! Get out there now and carve the turkey, you pathetic miscreant!

ANGEL
(sighing)
Ok.

CUT TO:
SCENE 7

INT. DINING ROOM – CONTINUOUS

Angel and Fred return to the dining room to find Spike slicing the turkey in a way that would make Julia Child proud.

CONNOR
Wow. You do that well, Uncle Spike.

SPIKE
Just takes a really sharp knife, is all. Once back in my evil days, I filleted an entire family in less than—

Angel nudges Spike hard in the ribs and grabs the knife and fork from him.

ANGEL
Always a kidder, this one. And he's not your uncle! Now…who wants a wing?

Connor nudges Patricia, who rolls her eyes as she gets Angel's attention.

PATRICIA
Angel…I'm sorry if I offended you earlier. I had no idea…you don't have an accent or anything. But now that I know, you do sort of look like that bleeding heart Boo-Noo from U2!

ANGEL
Um…thanks?

PATRICIA
Sometimes I speak before I think, but I'm really a nice person. I'm not a bigot at all. My family's housekeeper is Guatemalan, for God's sake!

Angel chops down hard into the turkey, splitting it completely in half.

FRED
Uh, you know, maybe you should let Spike do that.

ANGEL
I'm the head of this fam—household, so I'll carve the turkey.

PATRICIA
Really? So I guess you're king of the castle!

SPIKE
No, he's the queen.

Connor and Fred giggle.

ANGEL
(sotto voce)
I'll show you who's queen later…

SPIKE
Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's just get this show on the road, mate. Give us some of that turkey!

PATRICIA
Wait! We haven't said grace yet.

ANGEL
Um…

SPIKE
Yes, Head of the Household. Say grace. You're so used to it.

FRED
We used to say grace all the time back in Texas. It's state law!

ANGEL
Well…um…ok.

Angel sits down at the head of the table and struggles to remember his long-forgotten Catholic upbringing. He attempts the sign of the cross, but stops when he catches a whiff of smoke. Patricia smiles expectantly.

ANGEL
Dear…Lord. Thanks for, um…food…and…the universe and…this apartment. And, you know, stuff. Being alive and stuff.

SPIKE
Yeah, right.

Angel not so playfully kicks Spike under the table.

ANGEL
Shut up!

FRED
A-men!

They start to pass around the food.

PATRICIA
In my home, we always go around the table to express what we're thankful for. I'll go first! I'm thankful for my health and my family and my friends, and for living in a God-fearing country where the current administration is insidiously forcing the state to recognize the rights of the unborn.

SPIKE
(to Connor)
You gotta be kidding.

ANGEL
Um…I'm thankful that my son is here on a major holiday, and he's healthy and happy…
(sotto voce)
…even if I don't get it.

SPIKE
Easy. The bird's probably got trick hips.

ANGEL
Probably.

PATRICIA
Excuse me? What bird?

CONNOR
Next!

SPIKE
(scooping some stuffing onto his plate)
I'm thankful that I don't have to eat Angel's poor excuse for food in order to live. Where's the blood?

ANGEL
Ix-nay on the ood-blay!

PATRICIA
(confused but shrugging it off)
What are you thankful for, baby?

CONNOR
I'm thankful that my parents finally got to take that ski trip to Colorado that they've been wanting for years this Thanksgiving. And that they took my bratty sisters with them!

ANGEL
Well. That's awfully, um, nice.

CONNOR
Because that way, I got to spend Thanksgiving with my real dad.

Angel smiles.

CONNOR
And my girlfriend…and Aunt Fred and Uncle Spike.

ANGEL
Stop calling him that!

PATRICIA
Ooh! So Spike and Fred are—

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
Remove your tongue!

PATRICIA
You mean "bite" my tongue, right?

FRED
(still with Illyria's voice)
Did I stutter?

PATRICIA
But, Connor, if Spike isn't dating your Aunt Fred, then why do you call him—

SPIKE AND ANGEL
It's Fred's turn!

FRED
(still with Illyria's voice)
Very well. I am thankful to no one, as unlike you mere mortals, I am like a god unto myself, and would rather be forced to swallow thick, chunky, steaming, fetid putridness for a thousand millennia before I'd submit to a lower creature.

Everyone looks down at their plates and pushes them away a little.

ANGEL
Uh…uh…Fred's an agnostic. Aren't you…sis?

Fred notices Patricia's discomfort and Connor's "Please don't C-block me" face.

FRED
(with Fred's voice)
Oh. Yeah. Don't listen to me!

ANGEL
You know those scientific types. They don't believe in anything.

FRED
Oh, don't exaggerate. The likelihood of intelligent design as related to quantum physics and wave theory is deductible through perturbation theory and the—

PATRICIA
That won't last. You're a woman, after all. You'll start to believe when you give birth for the first time.

FRED
Oh, I don't really ever want to have any children.

Gasping loudly, Patricia drops her fork and wipes her mouth with her napkin as she stands on shaking legs.

PATRICIA
Will you all excuse me?

CONNOR
(pointing to the bathroom)
Oh…it's through…there, honey.

Patricia, visibly shaken and disturbed, walks to the bathroom. When the others hear the door shut, they all break out into giggles.

CUT TO:
SCENE 8

INT. DINING ROOM – CONTINUOUS

Angel, Spike, Fred and Connor take their first bites.

CONNOR
You made the stuffing, Dad?

ANGEL
Yeah. You like it?

CONNOR
Yeah!

SPIKE
It's all right.

FRED
(looking at her fork)
What are these things in it?

SPIKE
(looking closely at his fork)
Are these chestnuts in the stuffing?

ANGEL
Yeah, so?

SPIKE
So I'm bleedin' allergic to chestnuts, you stupid git! Don't you remember, 1883?

FLASHBACK TO:

EXT. ENGLISH COUNTRYSIDE,1883 – NIGHT

Surrounded by dead bodies strewn all around the ground, Angelus and William the Bloody are feasting on two farmers. William suddenly looks around and realizes that they are on a chestnut orchard. He drops his meal and wraps his hands around his neck in the international choking sign.

SPIKE
(choking)
You...brought me to a…chestnut orchard! I told you I'm allergic to chestnuts, you bastard!

ANGELUS
(dropping his dead farmer with a thud)
Oh, who gives a flying f—

END FLASBACK, BACK TO:

INT. DINING ROOM – CONTINUOUS

Spike drops his fork defiantly while Angel rolls his eyes.

SPIKE
You could have bloody killed me!

ANGEL
You're already dead! You can't choke if you don't breathe, genius.

SPIKE
It's the principle of the thing!

Connor clears his throat, and Angel and Spike quickly stop their argument as Patricia emerges from the bathroom looking settled, like she's just had to talk herself down from something. She sits back down and forces a smile. Connor gives Angel a look, and Angel offers Patricia the bowl of stuffing.

ANGEL
I, uh, made it myself. You're not allergic to chestnuts, are you?

Patricia smiles and adds some to her plate. They all continue to eat in awkward silence.

ANGEL
So, um, uh…how did you two meet?

CONNOR
At Stanford.

PATRICIA
Connor came to my rescue when I was under attack.

SPIKE
What was attacking you? Demons?

ANGEL
Ghosts?

FRED
Festering boils?

PATRICIA
(weirded out)
No. Feminists!

SPIKE
Bloody hell.

PATRICIA
Yes. A nasty cadre of them attacked me in Figure Drawing class, just because I suggested a woman's womb belongs to her future children, God, and the military.

SPIKE
Can't trust them hairy legged Sapphos, can ya?

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
You mean to suggest that female suffragists favor the act of congress exclusively with their own sex? And that they also are prone to hirsuteness?

PATRICIA
Well, any woman that thinks she's as strong as a man must surely be one of those lesbos!

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
Interesting. I am entombed in this female form. I could crush your medulla with my eyelash. And yet I do not wish to fornicate with you. Explain.

Patricia's eyes go wide with fear.

SPIKE
(to Connor)
Better watch her, mate. Lady doth protest too much and all. She'll be busting out the Birkenstocks in no time.

Patricia looks slightly offended, but mostly confused. Connor quickly comes to his girlfriend's defense.

CONNOR
So, Dad, how's Nina doing?

ANGEL
She's fine, son. Thanks for asking.

CONNOR
Nina is Dad's girlfriend. Right, Spike?

Spike clears his throat, then Angel gives Spike a warning look, Connor smiles triumphantly, and Fred stifles a laugh.

SPIKE
Speaking of hirsute—

ANGEL
Spike? Could you please pass the turkey?

SPIKE
Why of course. Manly man like you needs his protein to build big sexy muscles for his girlfriend.

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
How do you all find the turkey? Is it to your liking?

Spike, Connor and Angel make small noises of assent.

PATRICIA
(nervously)
Mmm, it's good. What's your secret?

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
In my former glory, I would have been able to prepare this filthy human's vermin with little more than a blink of my eye. Just a hint of a glimpse of a thought and I would have wiped out entire legions of herds of foul beasts in milliseconds. The carcasses of tens of millions of soulless creatures would lay in my wake. Now…in this wretched state that I am condemned…I preheated the oven to 425 degrees, and let it brown before covering it and lowering the temperature to 325 for the remainder of the 4 hour preparation.

SPIKE
Oh. Yummy!

CONNOR
Uh, yeah. It's really good, Fred.

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
I basted it. With the coagulated secretion of a bovine.

PATRICIA/CONNOR/ANGEL/SPIKE
What?

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
Butter.

ANGEL
(noticing Patricia's growing concern)
Illyr, I mean, Fred is, uh, special.

PATRICIA
Oh, I thought so. I have a cousin like that. He's not as high-functioning as Fred here, though.

FRED
Excuse me?

PATRICIA
We never let our cousin near the oven.

FRED
Do you think I'm—

PATRICIA
Retarded? Oh, heavens, no!

CONNOR
Uh, honey? Don't you mean "developmentally challenged?"

ANGEL
I think it's "mentally challenged."

SPIKE
No, I believe the PC term is "developmentally disabled."

Fred jumps up from her seat.

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
How dare you! I fathomed the entire universe while your kind was still primordial ooze!

PATRICIA
(condescendingly)
Calm down. I understand, Fred. I saw Rain Man!

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
You insignificant bag of bones—

Fred lunges at Patricia, but Angel and Spike grab her and take her away just as her hair starts to revert to blue. She fumes, but Angel and Spike are somewhat amused as they take her back towards the kitchen.

ANGEL
C'mon, Fred, I think I smell something burning in the kitchen!

SPIKE
Yeah, and if you're good, we'll spill toothpicks on the floor and let you count 'em!

The three disappear behind the kitchen door. Connor sighs and turns to his girlfriend.

CONNOR
I think you upset Fred, honey.

PATRICIA
Oh, I hope not. I really didn't mean to hurt her feelings. She's really sweet.

Connor pats his girlfriend's hand, smiling at her sincerity.

PATRICIA
Oh well, it's not like she understands anyway! D'uh!

Connor hangs his head.

CUT TO:
SCENE 9

INT. KITCHEN – CONTINUOUS

Fred, now morphed back into Illyria, looks around for the largest knife she can find and points it in the direction of the dining room.

ILLYRIA
The tart must be sacrificed for insulting me! I will not stand for it to live one more moment!

ANGEL
Will you keep your voice down?

SPIKE
Yeah, don't have a cow. Not when there's
(imitating Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man)
10 minutes to Wapner! 10 minutes to Wapner!

Illyria hurls the knife at Spike's head. It plunges into the wall, missing his eye by a few millimeters.

SPIKE
Bloody hell!

Spike takes a heavy cast iron skillet and lunges at Illyria, but Angel pulls them both back by the scruff of their necks.

ANGEL
Will you two quit it? Can't you see what's going on here?

ILLYRIA
I shall mutilate the blonde vampire, guacamole or not!

SPIKE
Try it, Smurfette!

ANGEL
(pushing them away)
Shut up and listen to me! I know what's going on here. I figured it out.

SPIKE
What?

CLOSE UP ON ANGEL

ANGEL
Patricia is a demon and has Connor under a love spell.

BLACKOUT

ACT III

SCENE 10

INT. KITCHEN – CONTINUOUS

Angel looks at Spike and Illyria, waiting for them to catch up.

ANGEL
Think about it, guys. Connor's too smart to fall for someone like her otherwise. There's no way he'd be interested in Patricia unless she forced him into it. He's practically a genius. I mean, he got a—

SPIKE AND ILLYRIA
(droning)
1490 on his SAT's; 790 math, 700 verbal.

ANGEL
Gee, have I mentioned that before?

ILLYRIA
Your offspring's academic ability does not preclude him from falling prey to a defiler. We should kill her now before he gives her his heart…and his body.

SPIKE
I think it's a bit late for that. You see the way he dotes on the bird. He's completely whipped.

ANGEL
No. You think?

The trio quietly pokes their heads out the kitchen door to peer at Connor holding Patricia's purse as she rummages around inside it. Disgusted, they withdraw back into the confines of the kitchen.

ANGEL
What did I tell you? No way does my son hold a woman's pocketbook unless there's an evil mystical force behind it! She's either a witch or a demon.

SPIKE
A demon with a nice rack.

ANGEL
Yeah, well…

ILLYRIA
It matters not. She insulted me. I say we kill her…and take her dress!

ANGEL
We can't kill her if she's human. And even if she's not, Connor's still under her spell. I don't want to upset him on Thanksgiving.

SPIKE
Yeah, no telling what the kid'll do if you break his Barbie doll. What was it he did the last time you C-blocked him? Weren't there hostages involved?

ANGEL
There may have been a hostage. Or 12. What's your point?

ILLYRIA
If we are able to ascertain the true form of this wretched imposter, and we find that it is, indeed, a demon…then can we kill her? And take her dress?

ANGEL
(thinking for a second)
I don't see why not.

CUT TO:
SCENE 11

INT. BATHROOM – LATER

Patricia goes to wash her hands and look in the vanity mirror, only to find the glass broken out and replaced by an autographed glossy of Joan Crawford. She hears hushed voices arguing and becomes somewhat less comfortable than she already was. Deciding to snoop a little, she opens the vanity and marvels at the overabundance of hair gels, tooth whitener, and KY jelly. And there are a few bottles of scary-looking deep red liquid.

PATRICIA
That's the weirdest looking cough syrup I've ever seen.

CUT TO:
SCENE 12

INT. DEN – CONTINUOUS

Connor stumbles into the den, turns suddenly, and is taken aback by Spike and Illyria.

CONNOR
You guys scared me. And aren't you supposed to be Fred now?

ILLYRIA
We've come to question you, impudent one.

SPIKE
Make us understand, kid. Patricia…she's got a nice rack and all, but…we just don't get it.

CONNOR
What's to get? She's…opinionated. Sometimes she just says stuff without thinking. I think maybe she's just nervous about meeting you guys, but…I don't know.

SPIKE
Did she ever sprinkle fairy dust on you? Do you find chicken bones in her car?

CONNOR
What are you talking about? She's just…I don't know why she says things like that, but—

ILLYRIA
Are you satisfying her sexually?

CONNOR
Lyri!

ILLYRIA
Perhaps it is her unfulfilled carnal desire that is causing her mental instability. Angel has probably not made you aware of the proper sexual technique required to generate the often elusive female Homo sapien orgasm.

CONNOR
(blushing)
Um…

ILLYRIA
I should not be surprised. Angel is a lowly vampire; I should have expected his incompetence at such matters.

Illyria places her hand on Connor's shoulder and looks him deep in the eyes.

ILLYRIA
Connor. When a male is sexually attracted to another being, he may wake up to find a tumescence—

CONNOR
(covering his ears)
Stop it!

SPIKE
Take it like a man!

CUT TO:
SCENE 13

INT. HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS

Angel stealthily opens the closet to inspect Patricia's coat for evidence. He accidentally knocks it off the hanger, and when he hangs it back up he catches a whiff of a perfume that Buffy used to wear. Feeling nostalgic, he presses his nose into the collar and breathes deeply.

PATRICIA
Angel?

ANGEL
(startled)
Whoa…there...hey…I was, um, I just was, you know, checking to see if…I thought I was…um…I thought I might take the trash out and I was looking for my coat.

They both look down to see the arm of Patricia's coat in Angel's tight fist. Patricia smiles and places her hand flirtatiously on his bicep.

PATRICIA
It's alright. I know you're just trying to get to know me. And you're worried that I'm older than Connor.

ANGEL
Um, how much older are you?

PATRICIA
Don't worry. I really care for your son, and I'd never do anything to hurt him.

Angel watches, stunned, as Patricia's hand slides down his arm and onto his leg.

PATRICIA
Connor's a great guy…but sometimes…it takes a man to get the job done.

ANGEL
(exhaustedly)
So I keep hearing.

Connor walks into the foyer.

CONNOR
What do you keep hearing, Dad?

Angel jumps out of Patricia's grasp.

ANGEL
(babbling nervously)
That pumpkin pie is so great but I'm more partial to sweet potato pie but I think they're actually made from yams not sweet potatoes and I think we should get back and finish dinner and did I mention that Spike made mincemeat pies yeah he did and whatever they taste like just tell them they're great or I'll never hear the end of it…seeyabackinthere!

Angel quickly exits the foyer and Connor looks at his girlfriend with restrained suspicion.

CONNOR
What got into him, baby?

PATRICIA
Oh, nothing…

CLOSE UP on Patricia hugging Connor, hooking her chin over his shoulder.

PATRICIA
(sotto voce)
yet.

CUT TO:
SCENE 14

INT. KITCHEN – CONTINUOUS

Spike and Illyria are both having a drink.

SPIKE
Well. That was…explicit. Either the boy will finally give his bird the little deaths…or he'll be able to perform minor surgery on her.

ILLYRIA
Human anatomy is so simplistic. So many useless, atrophied organs. So few and weak extremities.

Angel rushes in.

ILLYRIA
So many small, clawing, ravenous orifices.

Angel, hearing that without context, gives Spike a questioning look.

SPIKE
I told you these walls were too thin!

ANGEL
You—nevermind! Look, Patricia just made a pass at me, and Connor almost saw it. We've gotta figure out what kind of whammy she put on him before he gets hurt.

SPIKE
Wait. She put the moves. On you?

ANGEL
Yeah!

ILLYRIA
She's even less intelligent than I thought.

ANGEL
Excuse me? I have a girlfriend!

Spike and Illyria share a knowing smirk, though on Illyria it's hard to tell.

ANGEL (CONT.)
Look, can't we just look this up in a book or something? I'm tired of this, I need to feed, and crazy bigot chick is starting to look really good right about now. To eat! I mean, to drink…ugh! Just tell me what we're dealing with! I need answers now!

Illyria and Spike look at each other and shrug shoulders.

SPIKE
What do we look like, encyclopedias? You didn't pilfer any reference books from Wolfram & Hart?

ANGEL
(sighing)
No. Damn it. I miss Wesley.

A sadness passes over Illyria's face.

ILLYRIA
His absence makes my existence on this plane unbearable. Only my memory of him and my never-ending desire to destroy things keep me company in my misery. And shopping.

ANGEL
I know it's been hard, losing Wes and Gunn. And Cordy. And Lorne. But we've got to get back on our feet, and we have got to rescue Connor from this evil wench before she turns him into Rush Limbaugh!

The three nod determinedly, and Angel pushes open the door to the dining room.

PATRICIA (O.S.)
Oh, Connor, I need you to Tivo the O'Reilly Factor for me tomorrow night!

Angel, Spike, and Illyria shiver.

CUT TO:
SCENE 15

INT. DINING ROOM – LATER

An uncomfortable quiet has settled in the apartment. They push their food around their plates, not quite finished but not hungry anymore. Angel suspiciously eyes Patricia, who suspiciously eyes Spike, who suspiciously eyes Connor, who suspiciously eyes Angel. Fred suspiciously eyes them all. Finally Angel clears his throat.

ANGEL
This reminds me of something…a dream I had a few years ago. All of us sitting around the table, getting along, no one trying to kill anyone.

Patricia's eyes go wide.

ANGEL
Figuratively, speaking. You were there, son. And Fred. And Wesley, Gunn…Cordy.

PATRICIA
Who's Cordy?

ANGEL AND CONNOR
She was my girlfriend.

Spike nearly chokes on his beer, and Patricia calmly clears her throat and puts down her utensils.

SPIKE
Don't tell me you two father-son doubleteamed that cheerleader! That's disgusting!

ANGEL
It wasn't like that, it really wasn't!

CONNOR
It sounds much worse than it really was.

ANGEL
I mean, technically she never really was my girlfriend—

CONNOR
She was really more of a stepmother figure—

FRED
Golly!

PATRICIA
Connor? You never told me that you and your father dated the same woman!

CONNOR
We didn't really date. I mean, well, sort of? I mean—

SPIKE
Kinda makes you want to put a hex on the kid, don't it?

PATRICIA
What? No, there are just so many things we have yet to discover about one another. And I guess it's understandable that a father and son would have the same taste in women.
(making eyes at Angel)
Isn't that right?

SPIKE
Angel. You horny bastard.

Angel scoots away from Patricia's toe rubbing against his foot.

ANGEL
(to Patricia)
So, you said your family was from Wyoming?

PATRICIA
(laughing)
It's alright, everyone. We don't have to change the subject. I know Connor had a life before we met. We're both adults. He knows he's not my first lover.

ANGEL AND CONNOR
What?

PATRICIA
My freshman year I went a bit wild. Very wild. Some might say I have a, uh, checkered past.

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
I once conquered and enslaved a Thujngsze demigod. It, too, was a complete whore.

PATRICIA
(condescendingly)
I'm sure you don't even know what that means, but I forgive you. Bless the beasts and the children.

Fred fumes, her hair in the back of her hair starts to go blue until Connor clears his throat.

CONNOR
Patty's not a—she was…experimenting. Right, honey?

PATRICIA
Oh, absolutely. Alex the soccer player…Shaun the resident assistant…Troy…Dave…Dave number 2…Brenda.

SPIKE
All right, now it gets interesting!

ANGEL
Spike! When are we gonna have some of that pie you've been going on about?

SPIKE
It's warming up right now. Prepare yourselves, people. It's me mum's recipe.

ANGEL/CONNOR/FRED
Great.

SPIKE
Hey!

PATRICIA
(to Connor)
Why do you never speak of your birth mother?

CONNOR
Well, she, um, she died when I was born. I never knew her.

SPIKE
I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the idea of Darla being pregnant. She never was exactly the maternal type.

PATRICIA
You knew Connor's mother?

CONNOR
That's right. I forget that you knew my mother, too, Uncle Spike.

SPIKE
Well, she was my great-grandsire, wasn't she?

Angel kicks Spike under the table.

SPIKE
Uh…I mean…we go way back. Way, way, waaaaaaay back.

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
These human appellations are meaningless. Grandparent and great-grandparent. Child and cousin. According to Western kinship patterns, Connor is your uncle, Spike, not the other way around.

Angel, Spike, and Connor look at one another until realization sets in. Spike counts his fingers.

SPIKE
Bloody hell. Uncle Connor?

ANGEL
No, no, no no no…

CONNOR
I guess I am your uncle!

PATRICIA
Excuse me?

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
Your incestuous pseudo-lineage disgusts and bores me.

PATRICIA
What? Incest? What is she talking about?

CONNOR
Nothing! She's kidding, Patty! It's nothing like that.

SPIKE
Well, what about that threesome with Cordelia? You two are like a bleedin' soap opera!

Connor jumps to his feet.

CONNOR
Shut up, nephew!

SPIKE
I'd like to see you try and make me, uncle!

PATRICIA
What is going on?

CONNOR
It's alright, baby. My "nephew" Spike just has to learn some manners.

SPIKE
Me? Who ruined our holiday fest by brining Miss Moral Majority?

PATRICIA
Well, I never!

Angel jumps to his feet.

ANGEL
Everyone calm down…and he is soooo not your nephew!

SPIKE
Miracle child here better shake this mojo off quick before I take him over my knee and give him a right good spanking!

ANGEL
Hey! There will be no spanking in this house!

FRED
That's not what I heard you say last night!

PATRICIA
You people are all crazy!

SPIKE
Look who's talking.

PATRICIA
How dare you!

CONNOR
Shut up, Spike!

ANGEL
You tell him, son.

SPIKE
There you go again, always taking the kid's side!

ANGEL
That's because I like him!

SPIKE
Yeah? How's this for like?

Spike nudges the bowl of chestnut-rich stuffing, and it goes crashing to the floor, spilling the little-eaten contents on the floor.

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
Imbecile! Where's the Roomba?

Patricia stands up and grabs her purse.

PATRICIA
I've heard enough! I don't know what game you people are playing, but I'm not standing for this one minute longer. Connor, let's go!

Connor jumps to her side like a lapdog.

SPIKE
See? The boy can't even think for himself. She's got you by the dark and curlies, mate. Why don't you grow a pair?

Spike tosses a chunk of stuffing at Connor's head. Angel instinctively pulls a turkey leg off the platter and points at Spike.

ANGEL
Lay off, Spike, I mean it!

CONNOR
Kick his ass, Dad!

PATRICIA
Yeah!

ANGEL
(pointing the turkey leg at Connor and Patricia)
You two, be quiet!

CONNOR
Now you're on Spike's side? Typical!

SPIKE
At least your mum didn't try to shag you!

PATRICIA
You people are even more demented than Fred!

FRED
At least I'm not a slut!

PATRICIA
At least I know how to cook!

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
What?

Patricia crosses her arms and smirks.

PATRICIA
Your…turkey…was…dry.

Angel, Spike, and Connor go quiet. Fred stands up and stares at Patricia with calm eyes.

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
You said you liked my turkey.

PATRICIA
I lied.

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
So you are a liar, a bigot, and a harlot. What else are you?

Patricia, smirking, picks up her purse and reaches into it.

PATRICIA
You're all about to find out…

ANGEL
She's going for a weapon! Get her!

Angel grabs Patricia from behind, and Spike goes for her arm that's still in her purse. Connor grabs Spike's shoulder.

CONNOR
Let her go!

SPIKE
It's for your own good, mate!

Connor pulls Spike off Patricia and punches him in the face, sending Spike across the table, knocking over the centerpiece and sending food flying everywhere.

PATRICIA
Let…me…go!

Patricia slams her stiletto-heeled shoe down into Angel's foot. He doubles over in pain, and she happily knees him in the groin. Fred rushes over and crouches down, laying a hand on Angel's shoulder as he goes fetal, squeezing his legs tightly together.

FRED
(with Illyria's voice)
Did she damage your overused sexual organs?

ANGEL
(squeaking)
Kill…her!

PATRICIA
You'll try, Corky!

Fred stands up tall and stares daggers at Patricia.

FRED
I'll have you know that I was once a rocket scientist.

PATRICIA
When, before your lobotomy?

FRED
No. Before I became—

CONNOR
No!

As she pulls her arm back to strike, Fred morphs instantly into Illyria, just like when she destroyed Cyvus Vail.

ILLYRIA
…a god!

SLOW MOTION SHOT of Illyria striking at Patricia, Connor protectively stepping in the way, and taking the sucker punch right on the jaw.

Patricia screams as Connor goes flying back and slams into the wall.

ILLYRIA
Punk ass.

CUT TO:

ACT IV

SCENE 16

INT. DINING ROOM – CONTINUOUS

With Patricia and Illyria standing, Angel, Spike and Connor all jump up at the same time and shake off their bruises. Patricia stares with horror at Illyria's true blueness.

SPIKE
So, Angel! Still think that 200 quid we spent on groceries was worth it?

PATRICIA
I don't know what's going on here.

She motions toward the front door, like she's afraid any sudden movement may instigate an attack.

PATRICIA (CONT.)
But I'm going to go now.

CONNOR
Honey, wait!

ANGEL
(wincing, legs squeezed together)
Stop her!

As Patricia rushes into the living room to try to escape, Illyria lifts the heavy wooden dining room table and tosses it like it weighs nothing. It crashes, the boom scaring and confusing Patricia into motionlessness. She cowers as Illyria stomps toward her.

ILLYRIA
Impudent slut! I shall relieve you of your internal organs…and your plastic mammaries!

Patricia rushes behind a large plush easy chair, which Illyria lifts up and breaks over her knee.

PATRICIA
She's possessed by a demon! A blue demon. How'd she get so strong?

SPIKE
Well, she was fooling around in the lab and then the gamma rays—

CONNOR
Don't touch her!

Illyria grabs Patricia by the throat and lifts her off the ground.

PATRICIA
Calm down, Fred. You don't know your own strength.

ILLYRIA
I know endless strength! I am strength! I invented strength! I have more power in the dull edge of my long neglected, under-manicured small toe than you have in all your—

Illyria falls over when Connor hits her over the head with the heavy roaster that the turkey was cooked in.

CONNOR
That's enough!

ANGEL
(grabbing Connor's shoulder)
Son, wait—

Connor, knee-jerk reaction, swings around and hits Angel in the face.

SPIKE
Oh, nice one!

ANGEL
Ow! Son, listen. We're trying to rescue you from this evil witch!

CONNOR
What are you talking ab—

Illyria shakes off the head bump and jumps on Connor's back. He spins, trying to shake her off, but she holds fast and hits him over the head with the gravy ladle.

CONNOR
Get off me, Illyria!

ILLYRIA
You dare to strike at me after I informed you of the birds and bees…and bought you beer!

ANGEL
You bought my underage son beer?

Patricia kicks Angel's legs out from under him.

PATRICIA
You're all freaks!

She gets in a few good kicks and blows, getting the best of a surprised Angel. Spike laughs and jumps over the still struggling Connor and Illyria and lands directly in front of Patricia.

SPIKE
Haven't you had enough of spanking little boys for one day? Why don't you tangle with a real man?

PATRICIA
(smiling wickedly)
I would…if there were any real men around!

SPIKE
Hey!

Patricia delivers a sound blow to the middle of Spike's chest, sending him head over heels over Angel's back. Angel jumps up.

ANGEL
That's it!

Angel vamps out. Patricia turns white with fear.

ANGEL (CONT.)
I'm sending you home…without leftovers.

Angel lunges at Patricia, but is pulled back by his son.

CONNOR
Keep your hands off my woman!

ANGEL
She's no woman! She's a who—

Connor throws Angel, who goes flying across the room. He crashes into a china cabinet, spreading glass, wood and rarely used plates everywhere.

CLOSE UP ON CONNOR

CONNOR
You just can't handle it when hot chicks like me better than you.

Angel, snarling and laughing at the same time, jumps out of the rubble and he and his son engage in a semi-serious fight, throwing punches and kicks that would hurt a normal human, but just seem to rough up their clothes.

ANGEL
C'mon, son! She's turning you into something you're not!

CONNOR
How do you know? You didn't raise me!

PATRICIA
You tell him, baby!

ILLYRIA
You vile creatures! Look at this mess! Roomba cannot ingest broken glass!

Illyria looks for something to hit Patricia with.

SPIKE
Here ya go!

Illyria takes the object and starts to smash it over Patricia's head. When she realizes that it is a turkey leg, she points it in Spike's face.

ILLYRIA
How dare you lowly bloodsuckers desecrate my main course!

SPIKE
Well, it was the only way it was gonna leave that plate, love. Your bird was a bit on the dry side.

ILLYRIA
It was not!

Connor, who has Angel in a chokehold, chimes in.

CONNOR
It was…a little…dry!

ILLYRIA
Insufferable! I stupidly allowed you to talk me into abiding by your antiquated gender roles, debased myself at a common grocery store by fighting haggard housefraus for this large-breasted dead carcass, chipped my nails doing all this cooking…all so we could impress this harlot!

CONNOR
Shut up!

ANGEL
You…respect your…elders!

Angel grabs for the first thing he can reach. He tosses it, but Connor ducks, and the thermal gravy boat goes splattering all over Spike, spilling still hot gravy all over his face. Illyria smiles at Spike bellyaching about the second degree burns sizzling his pale flesh before quickly disappearing. Angel looks a bit sheepish, but Connor watches with a devilish grin on his face.

ANGEL
Um…

CONNOR
There's probably some great joke I could make here, full of symbolism and similes—

ANGEL
Metaphors.

CONNOR
Oh, yeah—

Spike, vamped out and pissed off, springs forward and knocks both father and son over. The three trade blows, sometimes using fists, sometimes using stoneware and utensils, sometimes using food. Patricia watches them and then looks at Illyria, who's so mad her hair is flying about all by itself. She points the large drumstick back at Patricia, who sneers and makes with a Karate Kid-esque pose.

ILLYRIA
Insult my cooking skills again and you shall sample this turkey from the bottom up.

PATRICIA
Your cooking was dry. And…it needed salt.

ILLYRIA
You, sub-demon, shall not live to see another day.

Illyria lunges for Patricia, who ducks out of the way in an expert evasive move. She grabs Illyria's hair and pulls.

ILLYRIA
Ah! Your combat skills are likened to that of a school yard pre-pubescent! I shall wear your eyeballs as earrings!

Patricia lets go and rushes away, only stopping when Spike, at the bottom of a pile of Angel and Connor limbs, grabs her ankle.

SPIKE
Not so fast, Ann Coulter.

Patricia, seeing Spike's vamp face, squeals and looks for something to throw—Spike's special pie.

PATRICIA
(wielding pie menacingly)
Let go of me!

SPIKE
Hold on! Don't make any rash decisions!

The men stop fighting and stand up, Spike holding back Illyria when she charges at Patricia.

ILLYRIA
Release me! I will not rest until the wench's head is on our door!

PATRICIA
Stay back or Spike's precious pie is history!

ANGEL
Go on, do it! What do I care?

SPIKE
I care! I spent a lot of time on those pies, man! You think those crusts came from a freezer? Perfection like that takes hours of planning…preparing…kneading…caressing…until the pie finally succumbs to your will!

CONNOR
What did you do, make love to it?

SPIKE
Um. Define…"love."

CONNOR
Oh…my…

PATRICIA
(aiming pie at the wall)
Move aside, you fiends! Let me out of here, or I'll make you all pay!

CONNOR
You tell them, honey!

ANGEL
You see? I knew it! She's got you under some sick love spell, Connor! I won't let her do this to you.

CONNOR
How can you say that?

ANGEL
It's obvious, son. Why else would you be infatuated with someone like her? And she was hitting on me!

CONNOR
What?

Illyria tries to reach for Patricia's throat, but Spike holds her back.

ILLYRIA
Let me at this wench! She deserves death for being so stupid as to try her considerable feminine wiles on the likes of Angel!

ANGEL
Must I, again, mention my girlfriend?

ILLYRIA
I was not speaking of Spike!

Angel and Spike freeze. Patricia goes white as a sheet.

PATRICIA
You…you mean…that…

CONNOR
Is it true?

Connor comes toward his girlfriend, hurt and confusion in his eye.

CONNOR (CONT.)
Is it?

SPIKE
(nervously)
Bollocks! I won't even dignify that…

ANGEL
(evasively)
I'm all about the chicks…

SPIKE
…wouldn't touch him with a 10 inch pole…

ANGEL
…of course, when you know someone a long time, and you're stuck inside a crypt for 3 nights…

SPIKE
…angry mobs chasing you will make a man do things he would otherwise never do…

ANGEL
…sometimes someone's girlfriend doesn't like to do…certain things…

SPIKE
…A guy's gotta eat, even during the full moon—

CONNOR
Hey! I was asking Patricia! Did you really make a pass at my father?

Angel and Spike shrink backwards. Illyria shakes her head at them and their pathetic display. Connor crosses his arms and stares his girlfriend in the eye.

CONNOR (CONT.)
Well?

PATRICIA
(bravely)
I don't know what you're talking about. I would never—I mean, yes, I found Angel quite the attractive man. That is until I discovered that he is a…a…

ANGEL
Vampire?

SPIKE
Poof?

ILLYRIA
Tightwad?

Patricia, still holding the pie, grabs behind her for her purse and haphazardly rummages around in it until she pulls out an oversized crucifix. The vampires recoil slightly.

ANGEL
Look, she knew about us all along. Connor, didn't I explain about the Inner Circle of Trust?

PATRICIA
It's unbelievable! You hear stories about people in California…sexual deviants…disease carriers…libertines…monsters—

SPIKE
Pretty much got you pegged, Angel!

PATRICIA
But never in my life did I suspect that there were real life satanic vampires living in my own city! Unclean…evil!

Illyria lunges for her again, but Patricia lifts the pie and points the crucifix at her.

PATRICIA (CONT.)
And you! Some sort of demon from hell? I knew I should have gone to Patrick Henry College!

ILLYRIA
Yes, you should tremble at my sight. I am as a god! And…

Illyria points to a picture of on a side table of Fred and Gunn.

ILLYRIA (CONT.)
I had sex with a Black man!

PATRICIA
Aaaghgh!!

Patricia takes something else out of her purse and holds it out defensively. It's a cell phone, but she brandishes it like it's holy water.

ANGEL
I'm warning you, Patricia.

PATRICIA
No! You let me go, or I'll make you all wish you'd never been spawned from Hell!

ANGEL
How, with that phone? Is it charmed? Is that how you're mind-controlling my son?

PATRICIA
I'll tell you how! My father is the Chairman of the American Telemarketer's Association. One phone call, and I can have every telemarketer, charity, and Internet scammer calling your phone every hour, every day, for the rest of your unnatural lives. You'll be inundated with nonstop emails from fake Viagra peddlers and Nigerian princes that your spam blocker will never be able to catch. And your cell phones—

SPIKE
Yeah, right. Angel won't let us have cell phones.

ILLYRIA
Cheap bastard.

ANGEL
Hey, Illyria, when you've proven that you can be responsible, then we'll talk about—shut up! Break your spell on Connor right now, Patricia!

PATRICIA
What are you talking about? I don't have a spell on him! Get out of my way or I'll make you sorry!

She flips open the cell phone and dials a number, her finger hovering over the send button.

PATRICIA (CONT.)
Stay back, I mean it!

ANGEL
(to Connor)
She has to be a demon or something. How else do you explain her hold on you, son? How can she fight so well?

Connor eyes his girlfriend suspiciously.

CONNOR
I…I don't know.

Patricia rolls her eyes at her boyfriend's gullibility.

PATRICIA
Baby? You don't actually think…

CONNOR
I saw you. Normal humans don't fight like that. How else could you hold your own against them?

PATRICIA
(nervously)
What? You guys aren't so tough! Maybe I have a black belt in jujitsu!

ILLYRIA
Speaking of Black…

PATRICIA
I'm telling the truth! Don't listen to them, baby! I'm human! I'm not a monster like they are. I'm not an evil, blood-sucking fiend! I'm not some dirty, filthy, rotten, God-forsaken creature of darkness!

CONNOR
Hey! That's my dad you're talking about.

ANGEL
Thanks. I mean, hey! I do have a soul, you know!

ILLYRIA
I tire of this. Kill the witch-demon-slut. Well, first make it clean this mess up, then kill it!

PATRICIA
No!

Looking for escape, Patricia turns to her left, only to find Angel there, alternating human and vamp face, doing a little jig.

ANGEL
(with Irish brogue)
Top o' the morning! I want me Lucky Charms!

Patricia tries to go right, but Illyria is there, holding up a large picture of Gunn and fake tongue-kissing him.

ILLYRIA
Mmmmmm! You know what they say! Once you go Black…

PATRICIA
Oh, God!

She turns another way, only to be met by her boyfriend's sad, disappointed face.

CONNOR
If my dead vampire mother was here, would you hit on her, too?

Screaming, Patricia turns around again, only to be met by Spike, who grabs his pie from her and holds it like a baby.

SPIKE
A census taker once tried to mess with my baked goods. I ate his liver with an onion blossom and a nice Chianti. No, strike that, it was his blood!

PATRICIA
Stay away from me, all of you!

She tries in vain to get away, but everywhere she turns, she sees the faces of her tormentors spinning round her faster and faster.

ANGEL
Let me son go, or I shall Riverdance on ye head!

FRED
(cheerfully)
I can't cook because I'm too busy buying RU-486 and practicing miscegenation!

CONNOR
You can take the whore out of the whorehouse, but…

SPIKE
Angel's here, he's queer, get used to it!

ANGEL
(singing)
We can sail, we can sail, with the Orinoco flow!

ILLYRIA
The next president of this country shall be a Black…or a woman. Perhaps Oprah…

CONNOR
That's what I get for dating old women.

SPIKE
Did Angel mention he was a flaming closet case?

ANGEL
Immigrants.

ILLYRIA
Feminists.

CONNOR
Whores.

SPIKE
Size queens.

ANGEL
Illegal aliens.

ILLYRIA
People of sub-Saharan African descent.

CONNOR
Democrats.

SPIKE
Legalized…same sex…marriage!

PATRICIA
Aarrgh!

Screaming like a banshee, Patricia bursts through the circle her tormenters created around and rushes for the door with nothing but her oversized crucifix. The others watch the swinging front door for a second, and then look down at the purse she left behind.

CONNOR
Maybe I should go get—

In a flash Illyria and Spike dive for the pocketbook and start rifling through it like starving animals on a carcass. Connor shakes his head, rights an overturned sofa and sinks down into it.

ANGEL
Guys, that's private property.

Spike and Illyria fight over the wallet like spoiled children.

ILLYRIA
The American Express Platinum Charge Plate belongs to me, vampire! You may have the Discover!

SPIKE
No fair! Angel!

More contents of the purse go flying up into Spike's face. Car keys, make up, a pair of lacy panties, a pair of handcuffs. Spike swirls them around his finger and raises an eyebrow at Angel.

ANGEL
(lowly, embarrassed)
Keep those. What am I saying? Stop it, you two!

SPIKE
Oh, Connor doesn't mind. He's done messing with the crazy, right, little man?

Connor looks at the contents of his former girlfriend's purse that Illyria has thrown on the already messed up floor. He looks at the lacy unmentionables with regret, and then shrugs it off.

CONNOR
I guess. I really should get a girlfriend my own age.

ANGEL
Thank God!

ILLYRIA
Is there anything left? Has she left any indication of the where she procures her clothing? I will purchase tall, slut shoes like hers and wear them at my leisure.

Illyria throws the wallet, now empty of anything valuable, up to Spike, who starts to flip through her pictures and I.D.

SPIKE
License…photo…photo…membership card to video store…membership card to the Los Angeles…Jujitsu Dojo.

Illyria, Angel, and Spike all trade guilty looks. Connor stands up, blood starting to boil.

CONNOR
Wait a minute! Are you saying she was tell the tr—

SPIKE
She's probably canceling these credit cards right now.

ILLYRIA
The harlot can not have gotten far. It can not call the authorities if it no longer has fingers.

SPIKE
Ok, we break it's—her fingers, then we shop. That's not evil, is it?

ILLYRIA
Do we care?

ANGEL
Guys! A, this is wrong, and secondly…what's open on Thanksgiving night?

Beat.

SPIKE
Wal-mart?

ILLYRIA
It will do.

Wallet and credit cards tightly fisted, Illyria and Spike happily race out the door. Angel shakes his head at them, the destroyed dinner, everything. He sits down next to his son and pats him on the leg.

ANGEL
So. How are classes going?

CONNOR
That's all you have to say? No apology for accusing my girlfriend of being a demon, scaring the crap out of her, and chasing her away?

ANGEL
Um…sorry? Hey, I thought she had you under a love spell, son. I was just trying to protect you.

CONNOR
Give me a little credit. I wasn't in love with her. She was a handful, but we had some good times. She, um, does this thing…with her pinky finger—

Angel jumps up, puts his hands over his ears and rushes to the door.

ANGEL
(yelling)
Wow, I think I'm just gonna head down to Wal-Mart and find your uncle Spike! Bye!

Connor starts picking up Patricia's make up and belongings and places them lovingly back in her purse. Outside he can hear Angel yelling after Spike and Illyria to wait up for him.

CONNOR
(laughing)
Wow. He's totally whipped.

DISSOLVE TO:
SCENE 17

INT. ANGEL/SPIKE/ILLYRIA APARTMENT – LATER

Angel, Spike, Illyria, and Connor sit on the floor of the living room surrounded by destroyed furniture, mangled turkey parts, broken dishes, and the remnants of several frozen pizzas from Wal-mart. They pat their full stomachs contentedly and inspect their many shopping bags.

ANGEL
Guys, don't you think we owe Connor an apology for almost killing his girlfriend?

Spike and Illyria look at each other and then at Connor.

SPIKE AND ILLYRIA
Not really.

CONNOR
(shrugging)
It's ok, guys. I was kind of looking for an excuse to break up with her anyway. We didn't really agree on anything, but…well…there was this thing she did…with her pinky finger—

ILLYRIA
Who purchased Herbal Essences True Bleach for Men?

Illyria holds up a box of hair color, then tosses it into Spike's outstretched hand.

ANGEL
We were only looking out for you, son. I'm sure with your dashing good looks and genius-level intelligence, you'll have a new, wonderful, sane girlfriend in no time.

ILLYRIA
This plastic satchel is bursting with nothing but hair styling product.

ANGEL
(grabbing the bag possessively)
As I was saying, you're way too good for someone as narrow minded as she was.

Spike tosses Connor a candy bar and a bottle of lotion.

SPIKE
To help you get through those lonely nights, mate.

CONNOR
Gee. Thanks.

SPIKE
You know, I've been thinking. Here we are, on this big American holiday, sitting in the middle of this mess of food and broken furniture, surrounded by bags and bags of discount shopping from a store that nearly single handedly has run the mom and pop shop out of existence, procured by nearly scaring some young stupid girl to death and stealing her money. And you know what I can't help thinking?

ILLYRIA
That we want more money?

SPIKE
Yes!

ANGEL
Yeah, looks like we lost the security deposit for sure. But you're right. It's time to get out there in the world again.

CONNOR
Why don't you just start up Angel Investigations again? Or just, you know, get a job. You guys are champions. I'm sure you can easily figure out a way to make money.

SPIKE
Actually—

CONNOR
No, you can not borrow money from me! But, I don't know, maybe you could open a demon-friendly club or something.

SPIKE
Maybe the kid's on to something. Serve overpriced drinks, play loser techno music…maybe even have a back room for a little…exotic dancing.

ILLYRIA
Yes. Perhaps we can install a floor to ceiling metallic cylinder like the one in Angel's bedroom.

Angel's jaw drops. Connor winces. Spike smiles like a happy little girl.

ANGEL
It's for working out and nothing more. Andwe'llneverspeakofitagain.

CONNOR
(disgusted, rolling eyes)
Speak about what?

SPIKE
That's our boy.

ILLYRIA
Where are the AA batteries? I distinctly remember placing a large multipack of AA batteries in the orange wheeled cart next to the Banana Twinkies! Which one of you degenerates pilfered the batteries?

CONNOR
Don't have a cow, Lyri. Oh, they're in this bag…next to the Twinkies…and an extra strength pulsating showerhead. And a package of Batman and Robin underwear. And a bottle of…KY warming personal massage gel.

Angel looks at Spike, who looks at Illyria, who looks at Angel.

ANGEL
(mortified, to Spike)
You could have gotten the store brand.

ILLYRIA
Angel. You desire to spend very little on products for your external genitalia, yet you happily spend copious amounts on products for your hair. Explain.

CONNOR
(disgusted)
I want out of this family.

Despite his obvious mortification, Angel smiles at the word. Spike notices.

SPIKE
What are you grinning about?

ANGEL
Nothing. Just…happy Thanksgiving, everybody.

The foursome shares an awkward moment.

SPIKE
Yeah, whatever. Who's ready for pie?

No one says anything.

SPIKE
(growling menacingly)
I said…who's…ready…for…pie?

ANGEL/ILLYRIA/CONNOR
(reluctantly)
Me…?

The camera PANS BACK to show Angel watching his son, his former adversary, and his current…whatever…stumbling through the mess of their apartment into the kitchen. They tease one another, argue playfully, and laugh at each other and the normal abnormality of their lives. Illyria even smiles. A little.

ANGEL
(proudly, to himself)
Happy Thanksgiving to me.

FADE TO BLACK

SPIKE (O.C.)
Hey! Who put bleedin' chestnuts in my pie?!

CLOSING CREDITS ROLL

Copyright © October 2007 by KTA