(Cut to Joyce in bed, talking angrily.)

JOYCE: I wish that someone had bothered to tell me that there would be tennis being played! I just didn't know. Those eyes ... (grimly) Those eyes, they're like gasoline puddles! (quieter) Tell me. Tell me because I need to know why, why are you staring at me like that?

(Cut to Dawn in her room, lying in bed. Joyce can be heard still talking. Dawn hugs a stuffed animal and listens unwillingly.)

JOYCE: (OS) What are you asking me? You are asking me, aren't you? Is this a test? And if this counts for the final grade, I need to know now! Okay, there are teachers, and they put this on the syllabus, but they do not stare down at you, they do not cling, (teary) they do not look down on you....

(Dawn grabs her pillow and pulls it over her ears, trying to blot out the sound, but she can still hear it.)

JOYCE: (crying) You know there are people who are nice, and they give you presents, even when you are bad.

(Cut to kitchen. Cheerful Spanish music is playing on the radio. Buffy turns up the volume and begins washing dishes. She bites her lips as she works, trying not to cry, but after a few dishes she begins to sob. She wipes her nose with the back of her hand, tries to compose herself, then breaks down in tears, putting her hand over her face. )

JOYCE: Does someone know you're here? Because they should have told you that at the gate. You are *not* supposed to be here. I need to rest now. I-I don't like the way you're staring at me! Did they tell you that at the gate? (firmly) Stop staring at me, I don't like it!

(The Queller on the ceiling above her squeals. Blackout.)

• Joyce's Illness

written by: Jane Espenson; Transcribed by Joan the English Chick (pisces@englishchick.com).. Full transcript at:
http://www.studiesinwords.de/87listeningtofear.html