TITLE: "Ginger 5: Pop, Snapple & Crack"

SERIES: Spam & Umad #17


PAIRING/RATING: Sam/Dawn, Willow/Nicole, "R" (language/implied sexual transgressions/the odd bestiality joke...)

DATE: May-June 2005

SUMMARY: Dawn and Cynical Sam cavort in Bailey Downs; a little Scooby Doo, & S4 Buffy for good measure...

A/N: This just blew any hope I had of Canadian emigration...


The Mounties know hornswoop
me bungo pony; Dogsled on ice.
Make a dash for freedom baby,
Don't skate on polar ice.

--"The Red and The Black" (excerpts)
Blue Oyster Cult (Tyranny & Mutation 1973)


Previously in "Spam & Umad"--

A pristine Canadian wilderness is disrupted by the yelps of Our Dynamic Duo, as Sam and Dawn materialize in mid-roll down a snowy embankment.

"Arrrgh!" Sam groaned, shivering, and brushing snow from her goose-bumpy torso. "How come we're the only ones who have to portal-jump naked?"

Dawn and this author share a conspiratorial wink..."I think the foremost question should be--Where the Hell are we?"

They are startled, and subsequently mesmerized, by a wary brunette girl in a dark, hooded cape. She circles them cautiously, dragging her left leg which still has a massive metal bear-trap attached. She seems transfixed by Dawn's shiny henna locks; Sam's trademark raven rat's nest (as opposed to their fine, fleshy frames?!?)

"O.M.G! The Red and the Black! YOU are the ones The Seer foretold of!" pointing a shaky, accusatory finger at them. "Not us!" Then frantically scanning the surrounding woods--"Gin-ger!!!" From the distance; a howl.

Now, on with the show, this is it...


Dawn and Sam stared horrified at the barbaric antiquity gnawing into the brunette's left leg. Noting the blood-stains, but not questioning the fashion faux-paux of period stockings and petticoats meeting present-day Doc Martens...

"We've got to get her to a hospital Sam!"

"I-I-I know--" Sam stammered, then doing a 360 degree visual sweep, "--But we're in the middle of nowhere!"

A closer, more threatening howl occurs and Our Girls' gazes follow the wounded waif's glance to the edge of the tree-line; to huge clumps of snow falling from the boughs of violently thrashing Douglas Firs...

"OMG! Sam--Quick! Back thru the portal!" Each girl shouldering an arm of the reluctant brunette and dragging her haltingly back up the slope.

"I-I c-can't leave her--she's ovulating! Gin-ger!"

Sam and Dawn roll their eyes at the girl's obviously incoherent delirium, then shift to over-drive as they catch a glimpse of a large, snarling mass of gray fur and white teeth bounding headlong out of the woods...

"C'mon Mary Ann!" Sam smartassed, "Forget Ginger! It's not safe out here with Mr. Howl!" (Dawn groaning even louder than YOU!...While it wasn't as far out there as say--"That'll put marzipan in your pie-plate Bingo!"-- Dawn had give her sister Buffy her props for the ability to pun under pressure...)

Willow's "Trans-Dimensional Portal Thingie" never ceased to surprise Our Dynamic Duo, and it wasn't about to start (stopping...) now. (Argh! My AU for a beta!) Three scrawny brunettes (2 naked, 1 attired in "Victorian Drab") tumbled down the exact same embankment they'd just vacated. Except now, it was springtime--the "hillside blooming crazy" with wildflowers, the woods now alive with the more calming sounds of birds.

The forest looked smaller somehow, the horizon altered, and as they limped to the top of the rise, they were presented w/ a modern, pastel-colored, suburban sub-division sprawling as far as the eye could see.

Same place; different time.

Our Girls managed to coax 2 bits of pertinent info from their incapacitated comrade--This place? "Bailey Downs"; Her name? "Brigitte Fitzgerald". Oh, and some unintelligible garble that sounded like "Out by 16..." which led Dawn and Cynical Sam to believe that the morose moppet was of a "like lesbionic slant"...Even more determined to save her now, they scuttled behind hedge- grows and privacy fences until they came to a small strip-mall.

Dawn found an unlocked back-door to a clothing thrift store and ducked inside...Sam explored further down the line of shops and spotted a Free Health Clinic. She was just about to rush Brigitte inside when she passed an electronics store. An entire bank of television screens flashing a "Wanted!" sign and pictures of 2 girls...one of which was Brigitte. This was followed by a montage of horribly mutilated animal carcasses, which Sam determined (without the benefit of audio) was probably unrelated to the previous story...

Reconnoitering back in the bush (heh) Dawn presents Sam with some Swingin' '60's vintage apparel: a red turtleneck sweater, matching red mini-skirt and knee-socks, and a pair of black & white saddle shoes.

"No underwear?" Sam asked incredulously as she watched Dawn slip on a white-with-pink-bunnies bra & panty set...

"Sorry babe, no time..." Dawn hid her mischievous grin as she donned a glittery lilac mini-dress accented with darker purple boa and Go-Go boots...

Sam told Dawn about the TV broadcast as the 3 strolled/ limped un-noticed around the vast mall parking lot-- (because Goth chicks are always hangin' with Austin Powers' groupies...)

"Brigitte and Ginger must be like the Gay Teenage Canadian Thelma and Louise--zez, or something! We have to help her!"

"We probably oughta start by getting this big honkin' bear-trap off her leg..." Dawn logicstisized.

"Jinkies!" Sam squealed excitedly as she peered in the sky blue "Eastern Alberta Power & Light" service van with the keys dangling from the ignition switch. She rushed Brigitte around to the side door as Dawn dove behind the wheel. Seconds later, the tires were screeching as the van jumped the curb, crossed four lanes of traffic, and headed southwest.

Behind them; behind the mall, the portal goes all twinkly/blurry again. A large, lecherous Lycanthrope comes cascading out of the vortex, rights herself, sniffs the air instinctively and begins pursuit.

Dawn maintained a steady, non-attention-drawing 5kph under the speed limit for several hours. Frustrated by the radio's limited selection of Celine Dion, Rush, Avril Lavinge or news about "...more dismembered human remains discovered...", she switched it off and absent-mindedly hummed "The Anchovy Song" as she plotted their most direct course back to Sunnydale.

Sam used some of the tools in the back of the van, and after Herculean effort on her part, was able to remove the offending apparati. She cringed at what Lily would have to say about such a merciless, inhumane device... As she rolled the girl's bloodied sock down gently to expose the wound, she was startled to see it already scabbing over and beginning to heal. Also, she was kind of wigged out by the random clumps of hair sprouting from the damsel's dainty drumstick...Brigitte dug a small vial of purplish liquid and a syringe from her Victorian era fanny-pack, growled at Sam's initial protest, and tied off her needle-tracked arm to inject.

Sam wiggled clumsily over the front seat, much to the delight of Dawn and several on-coming motorists...Then securing both her seat-belt and her wanting-to-ride-up skirt, she addressed the unavoidable--

"S-s-so...this Ginger--You think that thing back there *gulp*...~ate~ her?"

Dawn swivels to glance at Brigitte, "Well, you did say they were gay...I'd assume they've at least experimented with oral sex..."

"No silly! That m-m-monster. In the snowy wood."

Dawn nervously scoped out Brigitte in the rear-view mirror: studying her own reflection in the van window, tugging at her ears, lip curled in a snarl, examining a series of cuts/odd clumps of hair trailing up her arms...Dawn was reminded of someone...think...Holy Crap! Veruca! And Oz! Werewolves! Oh my...

"I'm st-starved babe," the younger girl side-stepped the subject as she swung the van into the parking lot of an isolated "Caesar Crouton's House of Pancakes" truck-stop...

"Cool!" Sam decreed, "They know fine cuisine even way up here in The Outback. No wait, The Steppes? Argh. Fumbuck, Alberta, Canada!"

"Um, babe...lets leave Brigitte in the car OK? I mean, you know, with all the media scrutiny and what-not..."

"Sure. We can bring her a doggie bag."

Dawn could only roll her eyes...And lock the van.

Dawn found a discarded newspaper as they wiggled into the corner booth. The date corresponded with what she considered her "real, real reality" so theoretically they could drive home to Sunnydale-- if, indeed, it was really ~their~ Sunnydale.

A disgruntled waitress brought them a pot of coffee, a huge platter of pancakes and 2 sides of ham--er, um-- Canadian bacon...Pigeon-holing the two brunettes by their attire as she recklessly filled their coffee cups-- "Ceaser don't 'llow no hookin' on the premises..."

Which triggered Sam's defensive, belligerent habit of putting "the help" in it's place--Glancing at the name-tag on her mint green uniform--"Um, Agnes, can we at least see a menu? Do you have any ~specials~?"

"You're lookin' at it," the waitress huffed.

"W-w-well, what flavors of syrup do you have?" Dawn ventured, recently considering herself a conissuer on the subject...

"This is Canada, sweetcheeks. Maple."

As the waitress trudged back to her station/magazine, Sam ladled a heapin' helpin' of everything into her otherwise empty red vinyl purse...The two brunettes then gorged themselves while watching (sans audio) a newscast of "...more grizzly murders discovered in the Highway 3 corridor west of Medicine Hat..."

Crammed full of carbs, Dawn & Cynical Sam waddle back to the dimly lit corner of the parking lot. As Dawn throws open the van's back doors so Brigitte can get some fresh air, she snags the purse from Sam's hands and dives in face first. Somehow, amidst the chomps, gulps and snarls of Brigitte's feeding frenzy, Our Girls pick up on another low guttural growl...

Our Tantalizing Teens do that comical triple-take from the rustling in the nearby bushes, to each other's pie-eyed frozen-scream face, and back. They dive into the van, knocking Brigitte for a loop and are soon cowering before the hairy, horror-y behemoth blocking a good 90% of the moon-lit backdrop outside the van doors.


"OMG, of course!" Sam deduces, "Ginger isn't her girlfriend, she's her pet! That redhead girl must've lost her dog too! You know, those "horribly mutliated animal"..." then glancing at an agitated Brigitte, finished with, "R-E-M-A-N-E-S!"

Dawn barely had time to decipher Sam's mangled meaning, with her girlfriend on a roll now, her investigative mind puzzling all the pieces together (and no doubt forcing a few to fit...) "OMG Dawn--It's like the Cannuck version of Santa's Little Helper! Greyhounds too old to race are either sent to the pound or breeding farms--These guys do it with sled dogs!* Brigitte must have rescued Ginger from a puppy mill--and she was kidnapped back by ruthless international sled-dog traffickers!" She nervously held the purse out to Ginger, who sniffed at the pancake-moosh, then warily took a bite...

"Awwwwww!" Sam cooed, scratching the furry creature between her ears, even braving a snuggle as the beast ate from her hand. "That's why Brigitte was so worried about Ginger here being in heat--that ~thing~ in the woods could've tried to ~mate~ on her!"

"Um Sam, in this rare instance, I believe you are mistaken--" Dawn ventured, only to be interrupted by the static/garble of the radio in the police cruiser that was trawling the parking lot...She slid over the seat and stealthily slipped them away.

Our desperate duo managed to snag some bare essential camping equipment from the back of an unattended SUV and about 15 minutes later, Dawn wheeled them onto an old deserted logging road and they settled in for the night. After answering "nature's call" the following morning Dawn returned to the van to find Ginger curled protectively around Brigitte as they slept, and a serene Sam lovingly stroking her.

"Hey Dawn, I think Ginger's still got her winter coat, see how thick and luxurious it is? C'mon, baby, pet her silky fur..."

Sensing Dawn's hesitance, Sam whispered playfully, "Watch this." Tickling the hairs between the pads on Ginger's paws made her twitch her front forelock like she was running. "See how her little toes curl up? This is the best part tho..." Finding that "sweet spot" in the middle of Ginger's back Sam skritched her vigorously until her whole back leg was kicking.

The merriment was lost on Dawn however as she discovered one, or both of them!, had peed all over her sleeping bag. "Damn it Sam!"

Ginger and Brigitte awoke with a start. Ginger taking a snarling stance in front of Sam, Brigitte just staring at Dawn w/ a distrustful scowl.

Dawn's unease quickly escalating to genuine terror; having (remembered) growing up on a Hellmouth, she was more in tune to Otherworldly vibes, and these two were channeling some ~serious~ animally Evil...Trying not to betray her fear, she attributed her emotional stress to the lack of funds, food, gas etc.

Sam slid the side door open letting Ginger out to stretch her legs. Dawn alone in position to see Brigitte chasing after her, sometimes dropping to all fours to keep pace. As they bound off into the woods, Dawn tries to refocus her girlfriend's attention to more pressing matters--

"Look Sam-a-Lamb, we've reunited them...and it feels so good, but maybe we should concentrate on getting back to California--I mean, if we can't even take care of ourselves, how are we going to care for two...er, um the two of them?"

"Besides..." she purred seductively, hoping to sweeten the pot, "we still haven't even ~christened~ this universe yet...from a scientific standpoint--just to make sure everything still functions appropriately?"

Poor Dawnie, it's a lost cause--

"So what do you think she is Dawn? Malamute? Huskie? Siberian Pit-bull?"

"Not to change the subject Sam, but have you noticed how much Brigitte is starting to look like Ginger?"

"Hmm, I've heard that lots of pets and owners come to resemble each other over time--like old married couples..."

"OMG Sam, you watch one program on Animal Planet-- which you fell asleep in the middle of, by the way--"

She is interrupted by the others' sudden return, Brigitte and Ginger poised in the open doorway, both panting heavily. The latter spits out a large clump of slobbery cash and a ripped and bloodied section of mint green waitress uniform. Dawn is horrified watching Brigitte toss a well-gnawed ham-hock around in her mouth; Sam, oblivious as usual lately, cooing her gratitude to her "precious-wecious".

"Yeah, but that same program proved that you CAN teach old dogs new tricks. Maybe we can re-train her--I don't know--to herd sheep or something" (Dawn notices Ginger's ears perk up) "Or maybe work with the visually impaired." (OMG! did she just lick her jowls?!?)

"I'm thinking of restoring their noble native sledding names as well" Sam declared, skritching Ginger's scalp vigorously. "Brigitte will be Princess of the Permafrost and Ginger here will be Nanook. Isn't that right, my wittle Nookie Wookie Woo Noo..." she gushed. Ginger salivating at all the attention, tongue lolling out etc...

They hit some Mom & Pop general store in the middle of nowhere, for a tank of gas and supplies and then headed back to the safety and seclusion of the woods. Dawn's priority (other than having Sam restored to some semblance of normalcy...) was to disguise the van somehow so they could travel further incognito. Struck with an inspirational vision her sophomore art teacher would surely go ga-ga over, Dawn was just picturing the project, artistically-clichéd in a make- shift finger-frame, when her lover's screams shattered the tranquility of the trees.

Dawn rushed to the clearing to spot Sam sprawled on her back and thrashing violently as both Ginger and Brigitte pawed and clawed at her. Ginger forcing her snout up under Sam's short skirt; Brigitte mimicking her. Sam's squeals intensifying as Dawn rushed to her rescue.

"Stick to your own species Fitzenstien!" Dawn screeched as she desperately tried to pull Ginger off, first by big handfuls of fur; finally by a hard yank to her tail. Ginger turned and snapped at Dawn, teeth bared and growling. Dawn switched to Brigitte, trying to pull her back
by her hips as Sam continued flailing hysterically. Dawn lost her grip in the furry free-for-all and soon discovered herself tugging on...*gulp* Brigitte's tail!

Sam sat up suddenly, domino-effecting B & G back into Dawn, who landed hard on her hinny. She stared in shock as Sam continued giggling manically, dug some Snausages out of her skirt pockets and rewarded her wrestlers for what apparently was just a playful romp.

Dawn launched into "frustrated-self-pitying-pout" mode and refocused her attention on altering the van. She was too emotional right now to deal w/ Sam rationally --not that Brigitte and Ginger would let her get within five feet of her anyway...

Dawn started w/ huge red and green waves along the bottom sides of the van, then a new logo on the side panels to obscure the "Alberta Power & Light" legend. She resolvedly listened to Sam babble on--

"You know--It might not be too bad to settle down in a place like this. I mean Canada's pretty cool once you get away from the sawmills, fisheries, breweries and slaughter-houses...We could open an animal refuge for old sled-dogs to retire with dignity--and NO BREEDING!--unless it's girl-on-girl...um, but then that's probably called something else...Besides--Canada's supposed to be a lot more open-minded to couples like us..."

"Sappho-lifemates?" Dawn tried to re-open communication.

"Yeah." Sam smiled, acknowledging the surrender.

"'Cept up here we're called Klondykes..."

"Really?" Sam's genuinely perplexed until Dawn's poker face dissolves into giggles.

"You know this van kind of reminds me of something..."

"The Mystery Machine" said the small blonde girl appearing out of nowhere, "from the Scooby Doo cartoons" As she approached Ginger and Brigitte immediately took up snarling defensive positions guarding Sam...

"No way!" Dawn cried defensively, "It's a totally original idea! See, I even put this "Anomaly Inc." logo on it 'cause it's like all subliminal and stuff..."

Brigitte and Ginger deferred to Sam's judgment as she extended her hand to the wayward waif--"Hi. I'm Cynical Sam, and that starving-for-compliments artist over there is my sappho-lifemate, Dawn."

"I'm Ghost," the girl grinned thru glinting braces, "Look can I get a ride from you guys?--there's a bunch of drunken lumber-jacks back there that want to ~make me their community bride~ or something. I don't know--there was a big gay musical number and they all started snapping their suspenders and square-dancing with their chain-saws..."

"I don't know kid, we kind of got our own trouble..."

Ghost appears immediately enamored of Ginger, dropping to her knees and cooing delightedly. Even moreso when she notices Brigitte cowering behind Sam's legs.

"Awww!" She holds her hand out for the creature to sniff, then cupping Brigitte's face in both small hands she studies the averted, nervous gaze. "Poor baby--when you close your eyes is it Hell you see?"

"OMG! Yes." Sam answered, "We think they were both abused as puppies...."

"You know, these could be really valuable creatures," Ghost began almost too nonchalantly; Dawn getting her first wiggins of Ghost's possible duplicity. "To someone who can appreciate their true potential."

"Forget it!" Sam barked, "Their Iditarod days are over! They are through mushing sleds for The Man!"

"Huh?" Ghost puzzled at her companion's naiveté, then as if quoting some hack pulp fiction writer, continued: "They prowl the earth, incarnations of myth & legend, their hunt relentless--to mate, to kill."

This kid was really starting to weird Dawn out; Sam apparently too distracted by Brigitte rubbing her head along Sam's inner thigh and Ginger snuffling in her ear with that cold, wet snoz...

Her anger not clouding her anti-litter creedo, Dawn tosses the paint paraphernalia in the back of the van where the others are all huddled and takes her lonely place at the wheel. Tweaking the radio again brings further reports of "...unprecedented wholesale slaughter at a popular area truck-stop..." As it continued on with bits about "surveillance cameras" and "two scantily clad brunette American call-girls" even Sam begins to feel the panic--

"OMG! They think we had something to do with that?!?"

Ghost's interest in Brigitte and Ginger is even more intensified as further details of the carnage are broadcast.

"You guys can lay low at my grandmother Barbara's cabin. It's secluded; way back in the woods. She's away in the hospital...There was...a fire..."

"Snap!" Sam decrees, vetoing Dawn's pleas to keep on the lam.

Dawn spends the next few days at the remote cabin thoroughly ostracized. Apparently the only one to raise an eyebrow at Brigitte's transformation into full-on Lycanthrope. As Sam and Ghost are outside tossing the Frisbees to Ginger and Brigitte, Harriet er, um Dawn does a little intuitive spying. In the attic she finds dozens of Ghost's comics and artwork basically outlining her entire Evil Agenda--to eliminate Sam and Dawn and gain control of the were-wolves, who will then do her bidding. Bidding which evidently involves a lot of grizzly murder and mayhem..."That's what happens when kids grow up isolated in the middle of nowhere like this...It's Ed Geinville!"

Sam spends the evenings at Ghost's computer further researching the noble heritage of dog-sledding. The "Alberta On-line" connection somewhat slow due to converting everything from digital-to-analog-to-Morse-code in order to transfer...Ginger still curled loyally at her feet, but Brigitte becoming more and more enamored with Ghost. Dawn spotted the blonde girl sneaking her Snausages, which explained everything...

That night Dawn and Sam finally christened this dimension with a small sampling of their sizzling sexcapades only after Sam repeatedly tosses Ginger off the bed. Even then, Dawn wondered if Sam was just "going thru the motions"...not that those motions were at all bad...

They didn't wake up until late the following afternoon, shivering and in the dark. At least a foot of snow had fallen during the night and the power was out. (The lines could've been easily repaired had someone not stolen 1 of the only 2 available service vehicles...)

They stumble downstairs to find Ghost camped out in front of the fire-place, Ginger and Brigitte snuggled up next to her on her sleeping bag. The wolves ears perk up at the sound of a howl outside in the dwindling twilight.

"It's a male," Ghost announces, "looking for a mate."

"Jeez has he come to wrong place!" Sam scoffs, "Nan-nuska doesn't even like boys!"

"Don't worry Sam, I can hide them in the cellar," Ghost suggests. "Meanwhile, you can sneak out to the shed and fire up the emergency generator..."

*OMG!* Dawn panics *Her Evil Plan is in motion!*

The small blonde turns to approach Dawn, "And you can fill the lamps with this kerosene--OOPSIE!" Not all that convincing as she continued to douse Dawnie liberally with the flammable liquid...

*OMG! Her Grandmother! The "Fire"!*

Sam had just donned some floppy golashes and a Harry Potterish scarf, when Dawn rushed to the door to stop her--

"Sam, you can't go out there! You'll be killed; I'll be killed--this will all end tragically!"

"Chill girlfriend, as usual I have everything under control..."

"Sam, let me reiterate, you are vastly delusional about this whole scenario. Things are not what you assume them to be--" Then off of Sam's smug smirk-- "Brigitte was a normal teenage girl 3 days ago-- now's she's on all fours, covered in hair, gnawing on raw elk entrails and wagging a fricking tail-- That is seriously FUCKED UP Sam!"

"OMG!" Sam dismisses her with a disapproving shake of her head, "I cannot believe you are jealous of two dogs and a little girl! I've done hours of research on this Dawn--well, mostly I was waiting for the pages to load...Ginger and Brigitte--Ghost too for that matter, acknowledge me as the Alpha Female --you are just pissed because they only recognize you as "my bitch"."

It's probably a good thing that Ghost had already lowered the trap-door to the cellar, otherwise Dawn's jaw would've continued dropping...

"Oh No! You did ~not~ just say that!"

"Like last night didn't speak volumes on the subject!?"

Ghost intervened, shooing Sam out into the Great White North, and then slowly encroached on Dawn, backing her steadily towards the fireplace...

Ginger and Brigitte thrashed violently and repeatedly against the cellar door, as if sensing Dawn's imminent demise. Ghost reverting to detached 3rd person vernacular as she savored the moment--

"Their nostrils flared at the stench of seared meat; They would kack the foul treat up later in the woods-- then partake of her lover to kill the bad taste. Partake of her lover in more ways than one--" Then as if she had to prove to Dawn that she was Looney-Toons--"Get it? Like they're going to fuck her first and THEN eat her!"

"Yeah, I think that was generally conveyed..."

"Poop!" The front door bursts open, "I forgot my mittens--H-H-Holy Crap!"

In the brief skirmish that follows, Sam manages to push Dawn out of harm's way and deftly wrestle a 12 year old girl back to a suddenly open cellar door where Ginger and Brigitte are poised to consume her with relish--well, not you know, literally with relish, altho Brigitte wouldn't have turned up her nose at some spring potatoes or a fresh green salad...maybe a nice bowl of Chardonnay...

The next morning Sam is back to her old oblivious self as the Fab Foursome climb back in the van and head for the US border...Dawn trying her best to ignore the blood-caked muzzles and grumbling tummys...

They'd planned to cross back in to The States at some backwoods checkpoint somewhere. (Dawn more than willing to flash a little fine, freckled cleavage if the need arose--a passport, she'd discovered, to virtually anywhere...) Even better, they spotted an old logging road that should let them slip straight into their own private Idaho...

Seemingly from out of nowhere the trail is suddenly blocked by imposing black Humvees and Special Ops units leveling automatic weapons. The canopy of conifers whipping as two helicopters descend and hold.

"This is Homeland Security. Unless you are migrant farm workers, professional dishwashers or custodial services personnel seeking a brighter future in The Land of Opportunity, exit the vehicle now! Hands above your heads!"

As the message was translated and repeated in at least 16 foreign languages, Dawn and Cynical Sam had a few tense moments to weigh their options...Sam reluctantly deciding to at least let Brigitte and Ginger have a chance to escape and survive in their natural habitat. She eased the back doors open, gave them each a final farewell hug, and with tears streaming down her struggling-to-remain-stoic cheeks she whispers-- "Run free puppies! *sniffle* Fly like the wind!"

The wolves bolt out the door and straight into the twinkling vortex of a Trans-Dimensional Portal Thingie! The sudden movement causing the more trigger-happy troops to open fire. The van was soon riddled with bullet holes and the subsequent shafts of sunlight. Both realizing it's their only hope of escape, Sam and Dawn grip each other's hand tightly and dive into the vortex, nano-seconds before it closes, and the van is eradicated by a rocket-propelled grenade...

Ginger and Brigitte tumble out in front of a moonlit Eiffel Tower. Their story continued in the critically-acclaimed "Ginger 4: Canadian Werewolves in Paris" spin-off...(as witnessed in this ~fab~ promo art--)**

Picture Link!!! - Ginger Snaps 4

But meanwhile, back to Our Hapless Heroines--

Plop! Flop! And Roll! Dawn and Cynical Sam bounce off the deserted, moonlit tarmac before flailing to a stop, bruised & battered.

"Argh!" Sam groaned, "I don't know why Willow can't end this "Trans-Dimensional Portal Thingy" spell, but this is getting majorly old."

Dawn limped to the side of the 2 lane blacktop to study the bullet-riddled road-sign:

Lawrence 13
Kansas City 38

"Great," she muttered, "we're in frickin' Iowa..."

TBC in #18-"On The Road Again"

*just to reiterate my favorite line--"These guys do it with sled-dogs!"

**not really existing...yet!


Bonus scene available only on director's cut & The Realm-

Picture Link!!! - Ginger Snaps

On The Road Again


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