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The Revelatory Power of the Feminist Revolution is Obvious, Right?

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“So you can see now how patriarchal society has perpetuated a stereotype foisting the role of slave onto all women, right?”

About five minutes into Willow's speech Dawn had run out to make popcorn. A half-hour later Willow was just winding down. Dawn hadn't seen Willow in such a rant since Thanksgiving and even that had been nothing compared to this.

Sitting in the middle of the couch, between Willow and Anya, was a woman: Jeannie. She was wearing a harem outfit consisting of pink, pink, and more pink. She'd smiled and nodded throughout the whole speech which, to Dawn's mind, meant she hadn't heard a thing or at least that she hadn't understood any of it.

“I'm sure that's fascinating,” Jeannie replied. Yep, Dawn thought, hadn't been listening at all. “And once I've checked up on my Master, Major Tony Nelson, I'd be happy to hear more.”

“Oh no you don't.” Anya grabbed her arm. She'd been using her demony powers to keep Jeannie here. Dawn was sort of surprised that Jeannie hadn't gotten upset yet.

“Maybe you should use smaller words,” Dawn said.

“You think?”

“Um, yeah Willow. I'm pretty sure even I didn't understand 'phallocentric society, a misogynistic civilization in which men collectively attack women as personifications of their own paranoid fears' and I nailed Aramaic the last time Giles tested me on it.”

“Oh Aramaic is easy,” Jeannie replied. “You're right, it is much simpler to understand that what your friend, Miss Willow, just said.”

“Small words, right, we can do this,” Anya said. “Men bad. Women-power good. Simple enough for you?”

“That can't be right. I am sure my Master, Major Tony Nelson, is never bad.”

Willow's eyes got that steely determined glint thing going. “Right, let's take this from the top.”

Dawn ran off to make more popcorn.