Disclaimer: Xena:Warrior Princess is the property of RenPics and Studios USA. No profit is gained from this story.

No sex, some gore, and lots of tongues in cheeks <g>

Comments as ever are gratefully received. Please write to both of us at:

archaeobard@hotmail.com

Lariel_a@hotmail.com

The following is a reconstruction of actual events. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Beware, this could happen to any of us at any time, in any place. You have been warned.

******************************************

Pally Ally: The chickens were howling again last night. I had to kill one of them to silence the others

Pally Ally: I’m eating Miranda tonight. They call me the chicken licker yknow

Enter The Dragon: will she be southern fried with a few Cajun spices?

Pally Ally: I thought I’d have some fava beans and a nice Chianti <g>

Enter The Dragon: LOL

Enter The Dragon: I wish I could join you

Enter The Dragon: I would hand feed you pieces of breast

Pally Ally: Sounds interesting. I think I would like that <g>

Enter The Dragon: Would be like fanfic LOL

Pally Ally: You could be Xena

Pally Ally: I would be Gabrielle

Enter The Dragon: I have the costume already. Do you?

Pally Ally: No but I’ve just bought sword drawing xena dolly

Enter The Dragon: I have the Callisto one

Pally Ally: Is yours fully poseable?

Enter The Dragon: No, she’s plastic all over. She’s 6 inches

Pally Ally: My Xena is only weeny. She’s a Weeny Xeny LOL!

Enter The Dragon: ROTFLMAO

Enter The Dragon: Where is she now?

Pally Ally: She’s here sitting next to me. She says hello

Enter The Dragon: Hello Weeny Xeny LOL

Pally Ally: What’s so funny?

Pally Ally: She’s coming into work tomorrow. She can sit on my computer

Pally Ally: She can play with my trading cards and my chakram keyring

Enter The Dragon: I have a really cool Xena mug at work

Pally Ally: Me too. I need all my Xena stuff. Work is awful. I need the escape

Enter The Dragon: What’s up at work?

Pally Ally: They say I spend too much time on the net

Enter The Dragon: Guess I’m lucky. I work from home

Pally Ally: They’ve told me I can’t use the net anymore

Enter The Dragon: So does that mean we can’t chat?

Pally Ally: I can’t give it up. I don’t know what I’d do without it. It’d kill me!

Enter The Dragon: You could kill them instead LOL!

Pally Ally: LOL There’s a thought!

Pally Ally: have to go - boss. Bye

[Pally Ally has left chat room _Sword_Hilt]

****

"Alison, how’s that monthly financial statement coming...what the hell is that?" Stuart’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the picture that Alison was playing with on her screen; it was a full sized image of Xena in full battle regalia, with Alison’s blond head pasted and airbrushed onto it so perfectly that you couldn’t see the join.

Alison started in shock and knocked her little Xena doll to the floor.

"Now look what you made me do!" she turned a livid - if somewhat cross eyed - glare onto her boss before diving onto the floor to retrieve the doll, who was lying on her back with her legs stuck in the air.

She picked her up, brushed her off and stroked her hair tenderly before settling her back into her customary place. Stuart looked on in horrified disbelief as Alison sighed with contentment. "There you go," she said, bending the little doll’s legs to just the right angle. "Did big nasty Stuart hurt Weeny Xeny?" she crooned in a high pitched, soothing voice.

"Alison, can I have a word with you please?"

"Say sorry to Weeny Xeny, Stuart."

"Alison, my office. Now."

"Not until you apologise to Weeny Xeny."

Stuart grabbed the doll and shook it vigorously in Alison’s face. "I’ll throw this bloody thing out the window if you don’t get in my office right now!" he fumed.

"No!! Don’t hurt her! She’s only little!! ... I’ll do anything, anything at all!"

Stuart continued to waggle the Xena around. "Have you been on that bloody internet again? I’ve been checking the cache. What’s this bloody Tom’s Xena page? And AXIP? And what the hell is the UFFD??"

Alison, frantically grabbing for the toy, wailed pitifully. "Give me back my dolly! They are the three most established sites in the entire Xenaverse!! I can’t believe you don’t know what they are!"

"I’m not some mad obsessive Xena fixated freak who spends all her time chatting to weirdoes and reading about sex!" he exploded. "Look at all these other people here - do you see any of them doing that?" He gestured wildly with the doll’s legs; bits of leather flapped against plastic as her little skirt flew up.

"How dare you expose her like that?" squeaked Alison, lunging yet again for the skirtless little toy.

"She’s not even anatomically correct!" Stuart pointed at the little plastic butt as it sailed through the air.

"She is to me!" cried the distraught office worker.

"Right. That’s it." He thrust the Xena into his trouser pockets and shouted "You. My office. Now!" over his shoulder as he stalked off to his office.

A deathly silence pervaded the room; many mouths hung open in aghast astonishment. What was wrong with Alison?

The blubbering woman stood up and glared defiantly at her co-workers before storming after her boss, screaming "Even in death, Weeny Xeny, I will never leave you!!"

****

The bedroom was dark; bars of moonlight were scattered across the pillow, highlighting the recumbent form of Weeny Xeny. Alison lay curled beside her, absently stroking her nylon hair.

"Oh, Weeny ... what am I going to do? They don’t understand. How can they do this to me?" Dull, blue eyes stared blindly back at her. "Surely they realise I work better after I’ve checked the AXIP updates? But sometimes there is too much to check quickly. And then there’s the bards. I have to write to them all ... that’s 278 a day. These things take time! But I do work better ..."

With an unfocused stare, the painted eyes of Weeny Xeny looked upon Alison as she turned restlessly beneath the covers. With a final toss, she returned her cross-eyed gaze to Weeny Xeny.

"At least I can talk to you. I know you understand. We’re very much alike, you and I, aren’t we?"

Alison struggled to focus on Weeny Xeny as she lay there, supine against the pillow. The eyes shifted suspiciously ... Alison grabbed her coke-bottle glasses from her bedside table and jammed them onto her face. It was true. The eyes had moved .. and as the astonished woman watched, they turned from her.

Alison blinked myopically a few times, not quite believing her glasses. She shook her head and pushed herself up onto one elbow.

"Weeny," she asked quietly. "Can you hear me?"

Weeny Xeny’s eyes moved to the right; a broad grin spread across Alison’s face. "I knew you were there." She said.

Weeny’s eyes moved to the left and the smallest voice said "I’ll never leave you."

****

MacKenzie Publishing

72 Old farm Road

Gravesbury

8^th April 2000

Ref: X00-14VW

Alison Hornblower,

With regards to your current performance at work, it has become clear that your conduct has been less than satisfactory and your output has severely diminished over the last few months, as we have discussed at a review on 13^th February 2000 and again on 7^th April 2000.

It is obvious that this lack of discipline is directly related to your excessive (and unauthorised) internet use. Therefore, it has become necessary to restrict your use of this facility for essential job usage only. Access to all other sites which are deemed inappropriate will be blocked as from today. You are also to stop practicing spin-kicks on your colleagues.

This letter constitutes a written record of the formal verbal warning which was issued at our review on 7^th April 2000. A copy has been passed to you, and a copy will be held on your personnel file for future reference. Any future transgressions will result in further disciplinary action and may result in the termination of your employment.

Stuart MacKenzie

CEO MacKenzie Publishing

****

Alison crumpled the letter in her hand until it was a small ball. She sighted the wastepaper basket over in the far corner and with a "ay-yay-yay-yah!" she drop kicked it to perfection, sending the white lump spinning through the air and to its death. She smirked in satisfaction. A tinny voice floated from the top of the monitor.

"What are you going to do now?" it grated in a suggestive tone.

"I don’t know." Alison cast a stricken gaze to Weeny Xeny. "I don’t know."

"I do." The voice continued.

"Tell me!" pleaded the woman.

"Sit down, Pally Ally." Alison moved to her office chair. "Good." Weeny Xeny raised a painted brow. "KILL HIM!! Kill him with me!! KILL HIM WITH ME!!!!"

****

COPY-CAT KILLER!!!!!

In a shocking development today, office cleaners were stunned to find the photocopied remains of well known Gravesbury businessman Stuart MacKenzie slumped naked across a Xerox machine with an as yet unreleased piece of Xena:Warrior Princess fanfiction clasped between his buttocks.

An autopsy is scheduled for later this afternoon, at the Coroner’s office.

The Detective Inspector in charge of the case, John Owl, made a public statement this morning:

"This is one of the worst cases of misuse of office equipment that I have ever come across in my long and distinguished career. I think it is safe to assume that Mr. MacKenzie did not photocopy himself to death, so we will be looking for a suspect. Whoever did this knows their way around reprographic machinery and is skilled in the art of deception. No fingerprints have been recovered from the scene of the crime, and forensics are still there now. But make no mistake - we will find the perpetrator of this most heinous crime!"

****

Detective Inspector Owl stared in amazement as he caught sight of Stuart MacKenzie’s plush office. The walls were papered with A3 sheets of photocopier paper and each one contained an identical small, unidentified object in the middle. He moved closer and entered the office, tearing down the nearest sheet. He squinted, turned it upside down and then turned it rightside up again. Slowly, it dawned on him what he was seeing - what appeared to be tiny little cheeks of a Barbie doll stared back at him from a thousand dots per inch. He raised his astounded eyes, and a constellation of little butts twinkled at him from the walls and ceiling.

"Damn that Barbie!" he cursed, spittle flying furiously from his lips.

"Ay, guv," a thick, unintelligible British accent interrupted the growing wrath of Owl. "You’d better get thaself over here and have a look at this then ay?"

Owl slipped the A3 sheet into an evidence bag before walking over to where the burly officer was leaning against the filing cabinet.

"Oh my god!" Owl was beside himself. "That’s a limited edition signed Renee O’Connor autographed season one trading card!!" The Detective looked like a waif who’d wandered into a deserted candystore.

"Guv ...?"

"I’ve been looking for one of these on ebay for ages!!! YOU JUST CAN’T GET THEM!!!" Owl pulled the card out of its silver frame and peered closely at it. He touched it reverently. "Do you realise what this means, Murray?"

"What, guv?"

"Renee O’Connor’s touched this! She’s TOUCHED it!!!"

"But guv ... what about the evidence? You’ve ruined it now." Murray’s thick brows beetled together as he tried desperately to get his superior officer to put his thin rubber gloves on before handling anything else on the desk.

"Evidence? What’s this got to do with the case?" Owl mumbled absently as he sniffed the trading card.

"Xena, guv. Its Xena stuff. The perp’s a Xena fan - we know that ‘cos of that piece of trash they found stuck up ‘is arse. And this is Xena stuff, guv."

"Oh. Guess we’d better bag it then." The two men peeled their skin-tight gloves on and carefully scooped up the various items into plastic bags; once done, they sealed them and carefully labelled them. Owl kept hold of the bag containing the Renee O’Connor autographed season one trading card. "Murray, put out an APB on whoever sits at this desk. I want them in for questioning."

"Ah, so you do reckon they’re our prime suspect then, eh guv?"

"I want to know where they got this card from..." And with that, the Detective wandered off to examine the photocopied butts in more detail.

****

"Do you think we’ll be safe here Weeny?" Alison whispered as she peered through the slats in the door and watched the forensics people take hundreds of photographs of Stuart’s room. She felt Weeny Xeny’s nod, and looked down to see the little dark head poking out of her breast pocket. "I’m so glad you’re here. What would I do without you?"

"Without me?" Weeny’s voice was like nails raking across a blackboard. "You’ll never be without me, Ally Pally. We were meant to be together."

Alison hugged Weeny gratefully, and then turned her attention back to the to-ing and fro-ing outside. "Where do you suppose all those strange pictures came from Weeny?"

There was a stifled sniggering from her breast. "I really have no idea, Pally Ally. But now, we have to go - the X Files is on. Let’s slip out the back way." Alison crawled out of her nest of shredded paper and wriggled her way out of the cubby hole’s back entrance, wondering where the barely audible "Bwahahahahaha...!!!" sound was coming from.

****

DIO: Miz Hornblower, thank you for coming in to see us.

AH: I hardly had a choice, did I? You had three police cars haul up to my house and drag me here in handcuffs.

DIO: Erm ... well, I have to advise you that you have the right to remain silent, but anything you do say will be taken down and may be used in evidence against you. But you understand that you’re not under arrest, and that you can leave at any time?

AH: Then why am I still handcuffed?

DIO: Murray! Get those cuffs off! For god’s sake man, what are you playing at?

MM: Sorry guv. Kinda liked the look of ‘em there. Sorry Miz Horny.

AH: Hornblower.

DIO: Now, Miz Hornblower, first things first. Where did you get that signed Ren trading card?

MM: Err .. guv. I ‘ardly think that’s the line of questioning we wanna pursue.

DIO: You’re quite right Murray. Tell us about your relationship with Mr McKenzie.

AH: He was my boss. I’ve worked there for ...

DIO: So you WERE having an affair with him??

AH: WHAT??

DIO: I see - its the old, old story ... the eternal triangle. Who was your accomplice? How did you get him onto the photocopier? Why was he naked?? Which site did you get the story from?

AH: I ... I .. The Bard’s Corner ...

WX: Bwahahahaha!!!! Stuart MacKenzie only got what he deserved!

DIO: Who said that?

MM: ‘Scuse me, luv - why’s your pocket moving?

AH: You leave my pocket out of this! And you stay away from me with those handcuffs!

DIO: Look, love. Just answer the question. Why did you kill Stuart MacKenzie?

AH: I didn’t!!

WX: Bwahahahaha!!! She wanted to though! She’s nothing without me!!

DIO: There’s that sound again ... why, I can hardly hear it. Murray, go check it out. Now, Miz Horny - I think its a simple enough question. We know you did it. The evidence is piled high ...

AH: What evidence? Where’s my signed trading card anyway?

DIO: We have the love letters you wrote him. Bet you thought you were cute, the two of you .. disguising them as memo’s about profit and loss. Profit and loss?

WX: Love? SHE DIDN’T LOVE HIM!!!! It’s ME she loves! ME!!! She can’t live without me!!

AH: Its not true Weeny! Don’t listen to him! I never loved him!

WX: You better not have done.

DIO: Weeny? Say, why’s your pocket moving? What have you got in there? ... Right, I’m having that. I’m sure it’s evidence. MURRAY!! Bag up this doll now! Right, missy. No more Mr. Nice Guy. Spill ... why did you do it?

AH: He cut me off! Give me back my doll! WEENY!!!

DIO: Ah .. I was right! I knew it! A love triangle!

AH: Noooo!!! I didn’t love him! I could NEVER love a man who looked like Salmoneus!

WX: Ally!! Help!

AH: I was at home all last night. I can prove it!!

DIO: How??

AH: Xena was on. It was the season premier - season five showing at long last. Fallen Angel!! I’D NEVER MISS XENA!! Eight o’clock on Channel ten ... I can even tell you what ads they showed during the break!!

DIO: Humff. Well ... I’m keeping this doll though. Evidence.

****

One tiny plastic hand scrabbled at the interior of the evidence bag, trying to draw the sword. The Detective Inspector blinked owlishly at the small figure encased in plastic. He could swear that the little form was moving. He picked the bag up and shook it vigorously. Weeny Xeny’s eyes shifted in glee as her sword was finally freed! It stabbed through the enclosing plastic of the evidence bag and much to her satisfaction, drew blood from the clammy, white palm of the Detective Inspector.

Owl squealed like a pig and dropped the bag, where it landed with a soft thud on the linoleum floor. A slight cackling could be heard coming from the bag. With terror in his eyes, Owl stumbled backwards from the evil before him, perspiration beading on his brow.

Lying half in and half out of the bag, Weeny Xeny wielded her bloodied blade in the direction of the petrified Detective Inspector.

"Bag me? BAG ME?? I’ll give you something to ‘owl about." The voice of Weeny Xeny scratched through Owl’s very being, like the sound of a thousand coffin lids creaking. With a pitiful whimper, Owl covered his face with his hands and shook his head violently from side to side.

"No! Nooooooooo!" he begged, "You’re not real! You’re just a piece of plastic."

Cautiously, Owl peeked through his slatted fingers towards where he had dropped the bag moments before. It was empty. Weeny Xeny had gone.

Frantically, he shot backwards against the wall, eyes wide in horror as he desperately scanned the room in search of the missing dolly. She was nowhere to be seen. His breath came in short gasps as perspiration trickled down his temples.

"Where’s she go?" he breathed shallowly. Slowly he turned. There she was, sitting on the edge of the interview table, casually swinging her sword and whistling her theme tune.

"Get it away from me!" screamed Owl, sliding along the wall towards the door. Weeny Xeny laughed maniacally as her eyes tracked the movement of the fleeing Owl. Feeling the door-frame with his outstretched hand, Owl nearly cried in relief. Taking his chances, he turned his back to the doll who was gesticulating rather rudely with her sword. He flung the door open wildly, casting a backward glance, he charged into the still figure of Alison Hornblower.

"Where’s my trading card, you bastard?" Alison said in a level voice.

Owl swiveled in terror, not knowing in which direction to turn. Did he face the cold expression of Alison, or did he take his chances with the plastic dolly from Hell?

Alison stood stunned in the doorway, watching the scene play out before her. She flicked her gaze over Ow’s shaking shoulder and spied Weeny Xeny sitting on the table. Her face split into a relieved grin.

"There you are, Weeny, have you found my trading card yet?"

"What trading card?" A little voice piped.

"You know, the signed one, with Gabrielle in her Amazon Queen outfit...Season Two...collector’s item."

Weeny Xeny’s legs shot out from under her and she twitched convulsively at the mere mention of Gabrielle’s name. Her painted mouth smiled lasciviously.

Owl straightened immediately and subconsciously patted his trouser pockets. A brief smile touched his lips. Weeny Xeny’s head rotated maliciously towards the hapless and clueless Detective Inspector.

"My bard! You’ve got my Gabby in your trousers!"

Owl’s face contorted and before he had time to move, the small figure of one irate, fully poseable sword drawing Xena launched itself, corkscrewing across the room. The Detective Inspector was thrown to the ground by the sheer force of the six inch figure.

"Nooooooo!" he screamed as she plummeted head first into his trousers and ravaged his crotch in search of Gabrielle. Owl writhed around on the floor in pleasure and in pain. Weeny Xeny’s head poked from his fly...

"I see you have been circumcised." she rasped.

"Not as far as I know." A shriek ripped from Owl’s raw throat.

"You have now." Weeny Xeny gloated, waving her prize through his open fly.

"Give me back my foreskin!" the distraught Owl screamed.

"Give me back my Gabby!" Weeny Xeny retorted.

"This is nuts!" Alison declared, striding into the room to stand over the two figures entangled on the floor.

"No! They’re next." promised Weeny Xeny, hacking through the coarse, cheap linen of his trousers.

Owl dug deep within his moving trousers and yanked the toy out. He tried desperately to keep a hold of the doll with one hand whilst gesturing to Alison for help with the other. Alison stood in a shocked silence as Weeny Xeny flew from the Detective Inspector’s grasp, and suckered herself to his face, pulsating with malevolence like an evil, black leach. She grabbed onto his dentures for leverage, and with several strong thrusts, kicked her way up his nose. Her legs disappeared from view. She raised her head, stared along the prone figure beneath her and spoke through an evil grin, "That’s gotta hurt."

****

I hereby certify that I, Cyril Slater, have performed an autopsy on the body of John Owl at the Gravesbury County Coroner’s Court morgue on the thirteenth day of April 2000, and that the said autopsy revealed:

FINDINGS

01 direct penetration of the nasal passage by a blunt object.

02 rupture of the dura mater and laceration along the left and right frontal lobes of the brain and causing subdural haematoma.

03 recent circumcision resulting in massive blood loss.

CAUSE OF DEATH

01 subdural haematoma

***

Subject, John Owl, has residual traces of brown paint of an unknown origin recovered from the upper nasal tract. In addition, traces of silver paint were removed from the pubic region.

***

The ornate door of the poshest hotel in town clanged shut behind Alison as she walked into the deathly hush that greeted her in the foyer. She staggered up to Reception, sat Weeny Xeny down on the counter and gasped,

"We need a room."

The receptionist craned her neck in search of an additional guest, "Just a single is it?"

"No...double, for me an my friend." She glanced down towards the bloodied figure of Weeny Xeny.

The receptionist looked stricken, but tapped a few keys on her computer, keeping a careful eye on the new arrivals.

"That’s a nice flag your doll’s waving." the receptionist said cautiously.

"That’s not a flag." Alison answered, hurriedly plucking the flap of skin from the tip of Weeny Xeny’s sword and shoving it in her pocket.

The receptionist gave a small smile and reached casually beneath the counter, depressing the alert button, sending an automatic call to the police station. Alison completed the registration form, signing her name, and took the proffered key. She scooped up Weeny Xeny and tucked her in her pocket again before heading to the lift and their room.

***

Once in their room, Alison grabbed the nearest chair and secured it under the door handle. She sighed in relief and wandered to the bathroom, running the bath. Afterall, Weeny Xeny was a little bit dirty.

"Oh Weeny," Alison lamented as she swished the doll around in the water, "look what you’ve done to yourself. You might have got his foreskin, but what about my limited edition trading card signed by Renee O’Connor?"

Weeny Xeny smiled wickedly, "I have many skins."

Alison rolled her eyes as she pulled the now clean Weeny from the water and toweled her dry with a face cloth.

"How are we going to get that card back?" Alison asked.

"Forget about this Renee O’Connor, whoever she is, I want my Gabrielle!" Weeny Xeny pouted.

"What do you mean? Alison asked, halting the face cloth, "Renee IS Gabrielle."

Weeny Xeny snatched the cloth from Alison’s grasp and wrapped it about her little body.

"Well," she said, "we’ll have to find this Renee Gabrielle person. We’ll get some sleep and set out in search of her tomorrow."

"Oh goody!" Alison clapped her hands together in glee, "Maybe she’ll sign another trading card for me, it won’t be limited edition, but well, you get that."

Weeny Xeny rolled her painted eyes.

Suddenly, a thundering was heard up the stairwell. Moments later, there was a demanding knocking at the door.

Murray’s muffled voice could be heard, "Open up in’t’ name o’ law!"

"Oh no! Weeny! They’ve found us! How on earth did they manage that?"

"Now, now, Miz Horny, come quietly, like, we know you’re in there." Murray’s thick British brogue filtered through the door.

"Weeny! What shall we do?" Alison shrieked in panic, running to the other side of the room, clutching Weeny Xeny to her breast.

"We have to get out of here." Weeny pointed to the window, "This way!" she ordered, squirming in Alison’s grasp/

As Alison headed towards the window, the door flew back on its hinges, smashing against the wall and Murray burst in.

"You’re under arrest, both of you!" he shouted as he grabbed for Alison.

With a desperate lunge, Alison flung Weeny Xeny towards the conveniently open window. The declothed little figure, dressed only in a hotel face cloth, flew through the window and disappeared from sight.

"Save yourself! Find Renee, get her to sign that card for me!" Alison shrieked as she wrestled with the officer.

Murray slapped the handcuffs over one of Alison’s wrists, and said, "Right, you’re nicked, luv."

***

The amazing facts were finally revealed in the case of the Gravesbury murders yesterday afternoon at the Supreme Court. This tragic tale of obsession, murder and fan fiction finally came to a close with the sentencing of Alison Hornblower for the dual murders of Stuart MacKenzie and John Owl. Seen leaving court to start her two consecutive life sentences, Hornblower was heard to scream,

"I’ll never get to Pasadena now!"

Sources say that Hornblower has embarked upon an intensive letter writing campaign to Renee O’Connor.

***

A reward of a limited edition signed Season Two Renee O’Connor trading card is offered for information regarding the whereabouts and leading to the arrest of Weeny Xeny. This individual was last seen in the vicinity of Toys ‘R’ Us in Los Angeles. Weeny Xeny is considered armed and dangerous and should not be approached by any member of the public. If this individual is sighted, please contact the nearest police station.

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