It was a normal, spring day at Sunnydale High.  The birds were singing in the trees, students were talking and laughing as they wandered across the grounds.  The sound of a grass cutter hummed in the lazy breeze which lifted the brilliant green leaves, dappling the sunlight which played among the trees, creating shifting patterns of light upon the ground.  In this scene of peace and tranquillity it was hard to imagine the evil which lurked in the night.  The only signs being the occasional glint of a crucifix on an exposed neck, a heavy scent of garlic in the air, and an awareness of the dangers of that which lurked in the night.
   On this day full of the joys of spring, Sunnydale appeared much like any other American high school.  Or rather, it did until something strange appeared.  Giles, walking to the library, his mind still working over the complexities of demonology, was awoken from his deliberations by the spectacle making its way across the grass.
   "How hideous..."  Giles muttered under his breath.
   The thing approached a large group of students, all of whom turned to stare.  It was dressed in a simple shirt emblazoned with stripes garish enough to cause severe retinal damage.  A loop of bulbous vegetables hung from it's neck, and what appeared to be a crimson piece of head-wear sat at a jaunty angle on it's head.
   "It can't be!"  Giles was now close to trembling in horror.
   The thing, riding a bicycle and whistling cheerfully, waved a limb at two slung baskets which contained exceptionally long loaves of bread.  Giles' worst fears were about to be confirmed.  It was indeed a Frenchman.
   In response to the curiosity raised by his entrance, the Frenchman halted the bicycle and dismounted.
   "Bon jour, mes enfants!"  He called out cheerfully, his arms making a theatrical gesture as if to embrace the hundreds of students.  "My name is Jean-Luc, Jean-Luc Pilchard, and I am 'ere to tempt you with my wonderful baguettes.  Each of them freshly baked this moaning with, how do you say?  The tenderness?  Of a parent.  Only ten cents each, and a guarantee that you will love my masterpieces..."
   "My God," thought Giles as he turned away.  "Will there be no end to the advertising ploys of this country?  More to the point, is there no end to the shameless abuse of accents around here?"  His disgust peaked at the cry of "Free baguette for anyone who 'asn't got the money!"  Yet soared to new heights as he watched Xander vault a wall and run towards the offer of free food.
   "There has to be a catch somewhere."  Buffy noted as Pilchard happily handed out loaves amid a flurry of kisses and yet more overly theatrical gestures.
   "You thinking demon baguette seller?"  Oz asked.
   "Definitely."  Buffy watched, rather bemused.
   "Maybe he's just a really nice guy."  Willow offered helpfully
   "No, there has to be a catch somewhere."
   Suddenly, one of the students clustered around Pilchard broke away from the group, and offered a nearby observer a baguette.  Buffy saw from the gestures that the young football-sweatered man held no interest whatsoever in the size of his fellow student's baguette.  Unexpectedly, the student raised the baguette high above his head and brought it crashing down on the other.  In an instant, there was frenzy as baguette-wielding students began to attack those not attracted by the Frenchman's offers.  From her vantage point beneath the tree, Buffy watched Pilchard scurry away in the confusion, but any attempt at following him would be impossible with the chaos of the fighting students between them.
   "We have to get to the library, maybe Giles'll know what's going on here."  Buffy stated as a baguette was hurled through the air towards them.  The others nodded in agreement.

Buffy burst into the library.  "Giles!  Something very weird is..."  She stopped as she saw the scene before her.  "...  Is going on here too."
   Giles lay spread-eagled across the heavy wooden table, pinned down by Xander kneeling on his chest.  Even stranger, Xander was attempting to insert a half-eaten baguette up the librarian's left nostril, deaf to the frustrated pleas.
   "I never thought it would come to this."  Oz murmured.
   Buffy leapt into action, desperate to save Giles' left nostril.  She wasn't sure if having a left nostril was essential to a Watcher, but she was not about to let this particular one be damaged.  Buffy wrenched Xander away, her arm locked around his throat.  She threw him bodily against the wall.
   "What the hell do you think you're doing?"  She demanded.
   "Baguette...  Baguette...  C'est formidable...  Baguette..."  Xander repeated like a mantra.
   "I'll deal with you later."  The Slayer promised, pushing her friend into the open cage.  Securing it, she turned back, and Giles was sitting on the edge of the table.  Willow was trying to remove the offending item.
   "Here, let me do that."  Buffy pushed Willow aside and began to gently extract the baguette.  A drop of blood trickled down Giles' lips.  Buffy parted her own lips, desperate to kiss the tempting target.  Her heart ached in a feeling of longing, and with the burden of knowing that she could never do what here whole soul demanded of her.  So, instead she simply wiped it away with a finger and turned away.  Oz watched on calmly, unimpressed by this latest bizarre event in the Hellmouth.
   "Well, I must say, that is a rather novel use for a baguette."  Giles mused, gingerly touching his nose.
   "Are you okay?"  Buffy asked, concerned.
   "There should be no, ah, lasting damage.  I just don't know what has got into him.  I was making some tea when Xander burst in and offered me a baguette.  I refused and the next thing I knew, he was trying to force it on me."
   "Boys these days, they just don't understand that no means no."  Willow observed.
   "Giles, what is going on?  Outside there was a massive fight because of these breadstick things and the I come in here and...  Please, explain!"  Buffy looked over at Xander who was banging his head on the bars, still mumbling.  She turned back to Giles, the librarian now standing, a tissue held to his nose (No I don't know where it came from either - must be a glitch in the Matrix).
   "Hmmm..."  He muttered nasally.
   "What?"
   "Hmmm...  Can't be..."  Giles stalked across the library and began to search through the numerous leather-bound volumes essential to the fight against evil.
   Willow looked over at Oz, who simply shrugged and went over to peer in Xander's cage.
   "Hey."  He said, but gave up on conversation.  What exactly can you say to a baguette-crazed maniac?
   "I've got it!"  Giles announced excitedly, producing the book with a flourish.  "Jean-Luc Pilchard, former baker to Marie Antoinette.  He was cursed to spend eternity selling bread but completely unaware of his fate.  Quite a shame really, he seems an amiable sort of fellow, by all accounts."
   "What about the breadsticks?  You know, evil baguettes?"  Buffy seemed less friendly towards the baker.
   "The...?  Oh, I see.  Well, the thing about it is, the baguettes bring out your innermost desires..."
   "You mean Xander's innermost desire is to stick a baguette up your nose?!"  Willow asked incredulously.
   "The baguettes bring out your innermost desires, but twisted round, so it warps the desires and brings them out at somewhat of a tangent."  Giles' brow furrowed in concentration.
   "So, Xander wanted to stick a baguette up your..."  Oz began, but was stopped by a glare from Giles.
   "We can't be sure," he said sternly, but looking very worried.  "As I said, it twists your desires.  Pilchard can usually be found close to the scene of chaos, hoping to make amends."
   "Well, what about Xander?"  Willow asked worriedly.
   "Oh, he'll be fine.  I've got some donuts he can eat.  Not the jellies though."  Giles assured them, still browsing through the book.
   "No, I mean, will he stop being, you know, baguettish?"  Willow was starting to panic.
   "Oh yes.  Usually the effects wear off.  Eventually."  Giles was still fairly oblivious.
   "Usually?!  Eventually?!"  Willow squeaked.
   "Hmmm.  Buffy, I want you to find this Jean-Luc Pilchard, and when you do I want you to bring him to me.  I have some questions I simply must ask him."
   "Not a problem, Daddio," spoke the Buff.  "Come on Willow.  We got us a Frenchman to catch."
   "Darn tootin!" Was the reply, and merrily they skipped off.
   "That was unexpected."  Observed the lupine Oz.
   "Hmm?  What?  Oh, yes of course.  Umm, why don't you, uh, go find Angel and bring him over as soon as it gets dark."  Giles had been daydreaming again.  Over the past few weeks he had noticed himself becoming more and more obsessed with Willow.  He'd be happily wanking away over memories of Jen when suddenly the perky witch-in-training would appear in his mind's eye.  Usually she'd be wearing gorgeous, tight black leather.  But other times she'd be dressed like his mother.  Either way, he'd have one of the best orgasms ever.  Afterwards he had to get a mop and clean the ceiling...
   Anyway, back to the plot.  (Thank the gods for that, Si!)
   Buffy and Willow walked across the picnic area to where Pilchard was handing out baguettes.  Students surrounded him, stuffing the long loaves into their mouths or pockets, while forcing the baguettes onto others.  It seemed as though a pathos, a violent desire, had overtaken Sunnydale.  Again.  A few teachers had arrived on the lawn in an attempt to stop the chaos, but were instantly seized by the baguette-wielding teenagers and subjected to unprintable actions.
   "This is really starting to freak me out."  Buffy observed nervously.
   "Yeah, and what's come over Giles?"  Willow asked absently.
   "Nothing."  Buffy said with a hint of regret, before adding, under her breath of course, "Not even me."
   "Oooooh!  Over there!"  Willow was practically bouncing with excitement.  She pointed to where Pilchard was edging away from the students towards the shelter of a nearby tree, his eyes wide with horror.  "Go get him!"  She yelled as Buffy sprinted forward.  For a second, Willow was mesmerised by the sight of the Slayer leaping into action.  Anyone of a sensitive disposition (what are you doing reading this?) should skip the next paragraph.
   In a moment, before she could help herself, she imagined herself lying naked on a bed.  Beside her, Buffy writhed in exquisite ecstasy as Xander thrust powerfully.  With one hand he held Buffy's arms high above her head, and with the other he grasped between Willow's legs, exploring, entering deeply in time with his mighty thrusts.  Her passionate cries rang across the room, first in desire and then in disappointment as he withdrew his hand.  Engaging both arms he clasped the two girls by their faces, long fingers gripping carefully at the delicate skin that glowed beneath him, and pulled them closer together.  All at once, Willow felt as if she and Buffy were one being, united in the sensual movements of the sweating body above them.  Pleasure filled her whole consciousness, there was nothing else, and she called out wildly when Xander trembled as he came, slowly collapsing onto the naked body of the Buffy/Willow.
   You can carry on reading now, it's safe (ish).
   It was then that she realised that 1) She was in the middle of the lawn at Sunnydale, and 2) One of the authors only included that last bit for Garfield's benefit.
   Buffy appeared beside the tree and made a grab for Pilchard, catching hold of his onions.
   "Just wait," she advised the Frenchman, who was nursing his bruised onions.  "That's really gonna hurt."
   "Oooooooooh la la!"  He groaned.
   "You're coming with me, pilchard-features, you got a lot of explaining to do."  Buffy commanded as she hauled his sorry arse back towards the library.
   With his one free arm, Pilchard reached up beneath his beret and grabbed a handful of grease.  "Let me go, child!"  He cried.  When she simply tightened her hold on his onions, he was left with no choice.  Bracing himself against the inevitable foulness, he brought the handful of grease to his mouth and swallowed.
   Willow, finally calmed down enough, shielded her eyes against the flash of blue light.  When she looked back, all that was left of Pilchard was a few dozen baguettes.
   "What the fuck was that?!"  She asked as she ran towards Buffy.
   "Guh?"
   "Pilchard!  Where'd he go?"
   "Buh."
   "Buffy?  Are you okay?"
   "Nah!"
   "'Kay, I'll just get one of these baguettes and then we'll go back to the library."  Willow said, half to herself, half to Buffy.  "Rocking!"  She thought.  "Threesomes ahoy!"

Meanwhile...  Giles went to get his mop out of the broom cupboard...