Seven Seasons of Buffy: Science Fiction and Fantasy Authors Discuss Their Favorite Television Show (Smart Pop series) (5 page)

Without Xander, Buffy Summers
¹⁸
would be just another corpse being identified from dental records. Who gave Buffy the pep talk to fight back against her enemies at the start of their fourth year of defending the world against evil? Xander. Who fetched her weapons when she was being creamed by Sunday, certainly my favorite vampire of the ’80s?
¹⁹
Again. Xander.

Granted, he
did
bring back that pesky Chumash vengeance spirit, which resulted in various disgusting diseases inhabiting his flesh. Good one, Professor. Really liked the syphilis thing; that was a nice touch.

His heroics didn’t end with just human beings, oh no. He even stepped in to decoy enemies away from the not-then-ensouled-and-still-sort-of-evil Spike. His military experience constantly benefited the Slayer as she struggled against the Initiative.

Without Xander’s untimely intervention, Buffy and her new not-very-normal boyfriend Riley might well have melted Sunnydale into a delightful soup, thanks to a nicely conceived scheme on the part of our succubus demons (props to them, that whole “poltergasm” thing was really inspired). But naturally, when the Slayer’s at her most vulnerable, who shows up to spoil everything?

Xander.

Let’s not forget that when the Slayer needed extra power to beat the crap out of poor Frankenstein—er, Adam—Xander became the “heart” of the gestalt. Yep, pretty sure it was a gestalt. The only thing that saved us from having our Evil Butts totally kicked? They didn’t make him the “brains.”

Frankly, the year sucked for us . . . again. However, on the side of up, his preoccupation with sex worked for us. Fess up, Professor: was that Anya thing entirely accidental? Or were you planning to distract the M.P.I.F.F.G. with former-vengeance-demon nookie? If so, I worship at your cloven hooves.
²⁰

Luckily, the whole Anya thing continued to work for us with Xander . . . plus, once the Hellgod Glory sashayed into the picture in her Fredrick’s of Beverly Hills outfits and really cute shoes, well, his usefulness as an ally was strictly limited by his breakability.
²¹

He did manage to throw himself in front of a couple of things that might—or might not—have done damage to the Slayer. He also attempted some crisis counseling work with Buffy on her breakup with the virile and tastily depressed Riley Finn. Didn’t work out so well, so it’s a wash, evil-wise.

However, most notably, he stood up to the formidable Olaf the Troll on behalf of Willow and Anya. It takes a real set of big brass ones to say to a troll, “You are not touching these women.” Well, okay, occasionally a human will say that sort of thing, but generally they run screaming once the bone-breaking begins. Xander, however, stood his ground. Points for that.

His only notable contribution to the fight with Glory was, of course, the smackdown he put on her with the wrecking ball, shortly before her inglorious demise at the hands of the enemy. And I ask you, how embarrassing is it for a Hellgod to be dispatched not even by the Slayer, but by her WATCHER? Her DISGRACED, RELIEVED OF HIS DUTIES WATCHER? Yikes. I might want to let a few millennia go by after her re-incorporation before submitting my resume, let her get that out of her system.

It is ominously significant that the Slayer said to the Watcher’s Council, “The boy has clocked more field time than all of you combined. He’s part of the unit.” Clearly, we should have spent more time offering Xander incentives to commit evil acts (or possibly even pyramid investment opportunities) rather than focusing on the redheaded stepwitch. (Not that
she didn’t look beautiful as a villain. Just . . . well. A sudden emergence of fashion sense doesn’t substitute for the grit to maim and slay with abandon, now, does it?)

Just as an aside, sir, have you noticed that as people go bad, they tend to pick up some bitchin’ fashion sense? Angel: leather pants. Willow: evil ‘do and black eyes (black, as we know, accessorizes with EVERYTHING). Perhaps we should open a makeover clinic in Sunnydale. As everyone becomes more fashion-conscious, we may get a corresponding reduction in heroics. Plus, only the Slayer has demonstrated a supernatural ability to fight in high heels.

And here’s where you show your true genius, Lord Vardath. When the going gets tough . . . when vampires, demons, Angelus, military-issue Frankensteins and even Hellgods don’t do the trick . . . you bring in the really big guns.

Relationship issues.

I mean, it was a great plan to distract the Most Powerful Force For Good with the whole constantly-having-sex-with-a-former-vengeance-demon thing, but this year you destroyed the moral fiber of every White Hat in Sunnydale.

Sure, Xander patrolled while Buffy’s corpse molded quietly in its grave. However, after participating in reviving the Slayer, he saved the redheaded stepwitch
²²
. . . an ambiguous act, at best, given said witch’s slide to the
Evil Side late in the year. And, seeking to pleasure his lover, he summoned a dancing, singing Showstopper of Evil. (I heard a rumor that guy is teaching a Dance to the Death class next semester. If I survive, I’m definitely enrolling.)

The scars left from the musical numbers will never fade from their memory. Or ours. BWA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!
²³

And—BIG points for us—he leaves his demon-girlfriend at the altar, forcing her to suit up again in the jersey of Team Evil! Wow! Good one.

However . . . and I mention this only in passing . . . he did participate in some saving of lives. When Buffy went nuts with that whole “Am I in an institution?” thing (again, sir, inspired, really) who fought off the slicey-dicey demon, even with his hands tied? Once again, he proves himself the true hero of the piece, while Buffy cowers in her corner drooling. Blah. Slayers. Overrated, I say.

And—of course—there’s the most powerful argument of all for Xander being the Most Important Force For Good in Sunnydale.

He stopped black-eyed, killing-frenzy Willow.

No weapons. No fancy backspin kicks. No magic.

Just simple human love.

I mean, we hate him, and all. But clearly. He’s, well . . . formidable.

IN SUMMATION

So long as Xander Harris resides in Sunnydale, we’re screwed. Evil will never triumph. Slayers come and go, but this Harris character, he looks likely to tough it out. Marry some good woman. Raise a bunch of kids and train them to be good-hearted, power-tool-wielding, salt-of-the-earth heroes.

I suggest an aggressive, go-for-broke campaign to relocate Xander Harris out of Sunnydale to someplace less damaging to our plans. Hollywood, perhaps. He can do no harm there, and our Evil Minions, especially in the Programming Departments at the major networks, are bound to break his spirit in short order.

Respectfully yours, your groveling unworthy student,

Korelva Norn

DO NOT WRITE BELOW THIS LINE! INSTRUCTOR NOTES ONLY!

TA:
Bugger. The little bastard’s figured it out. Xander is, indeed, the Most Powerful Force For Good in Sunnydale. This is very distressing. Aren’t we required to fail 100% of the class, or risk losing limbs?

VARDATH:
Not to worry. Xander has laid the seeds of his own destruction. After all, he once said, “Well, how about this? We whip out the ouija board, light a few candles, summon some ancient, unstoppable evil. Mayhem, mayhem, mayhem. We show up and kick its ass.” And lo and behold, is that the First Evil I hear rumbling and slouching toward Sunnydale? I call that a draw. He’s no longer the Most Powerful Force for whatever—in fact, I seriously doubt that there IS a Most Powerful Force For Good anywhere in the Sunnydale city limits, a big win for us.

TA:
So, about the test . . .

VARDATH:
Fail the little loser. He didn’t grovel nearly enough, anyway.

DO NOT WRITE BELOW THIS LINE UNDER ABSOLUTE PAIN OF DISMEMBERMENT AND DISEMBOWELMENT!

FIRST EVILS ONLY!

Well, this blows. I go away to Sunnydale for a little game of kill-the-slayer-and-rule-the-world, and minions with not enough to do stuff my inbox with crap. People and others, I am THE FIRST EVIL, not the Forty-Third Annoyance from Pacoima. You cannot seriously expect me to read every undergraduate essay that comes along, no matter how amusing . . .

Oh. I see. It’s very humorous. XANDER HARRIS? The most powerful force for good in . . .

. . . crap. It occurs to me now that if I’d been a little more on the ball, I’d have worked with Propecia or Prozac or whatever the hell her name is, that fashion-victim she-demon who was giving the red-head an evil makeover last year. I’d have killed that he-brat once and for good, thereby giving Tree (Willow? Whatever.) free rein to . . . destroy . . .

Well. Obviously, that wouldn’t have worked. If I’d allowed Xander to be given the fatality he so richly deserves, my game would have been over. The world would have been sucked up into a dark evil death-spell thing, which while indisputably evil is not the crazy fun it sounds (been there, so despised that). And while there are lots of brand-name evils out there, do you really want to have Proserpexa at the top of the food chain? Ugh. Can’t pronounce her, can’t spell her, and she dresses like Cher, which with those hips is NOT pretty.

I digress. Obviously, I must have meant for Xander Harris to thwart the Big Bad and become Hero Boy, so that I could smack him down with ringing authority during my Great Ascension of 2003.

The next snicker I hear will be punishable by the death of a thousand grandmothers with knitting needles. I swear.

Hey, it was a good plan, and it almost worked, if not for those darn . . . kids . . . why does that sound so familiar? Must assign a few research victims to the problem, make them watch multiple reruns of that awful movie with the cartoon dog until their eyes bleed and they become Harbingers.