Spike had a twelve pack of beer--rocky mountain goat piss, but still alcoholic--and he was on beer eleven. Harris' basement was even beginning to look habitable, or maybe that was the buggy eyed sunglasses he was wearing, distorting the hovel. Whatever...
Shrugging, Spike smashed the empty can against his forehead and opened the last beer, singing drunkenly along to the song on the boom box.
*I woke up this morning with a bad hangover and my penis was missing again. This happens all the time; it's detachable.*
"Cool."
*This comes in handy a lot of the time; I can leave it home when it think it's gonna get me in trouble, or I can rent it out when I don't need it.*
"Ooh yeah, the ladies would like mine," Spike growled as he grabbed his crotch, doing a Michael Jackson semi- obscene dance step.
The song continued, but Spike was distracted by his open shirt swirling around himself. Grabbing the tails, he swished them, singing, "I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt, too sexy it hurts." The shirt went flying across the room along with the last, now empty beer can, and the sunglasses.
The song on the boom box reentered his mind, and he took up the lyrics again, dancing drunkenly around the room.
*I was starting to get desperate I really don't like being without my penis for too long, It makes me feel like less of a man, and I really hate having to sit down every time I take a leak.*
"Bummer. Be a vamp, man, no need for leaks. Wonder where all the beer goes," he mused, toeing at the heel of one of his boots and toppling onto the bed. Rolling onto his back, he lifted one leg in the air and sent the boot flying. It hit the ceiling, then fell down and hit him in the head.
He morphed, cursing violently and loudly, then knocked the boot away and reached for the other one. Somehow he ended up on his stomach, his butt in the air, his still booted foot up by his chin. He tugged. The boot hit him in the chin.
As his head swam, and his demon gave up on him, going into full retreat, more of the song penetrated his dizzy brain.
*...I saw my penis lying on a blanket next to a broken toaster oven-some guy was selling it! I had to buy it off him. He wanted 22 bucks, but I talked him down to 17.*
"Should have just taken it, man, was yours," Spike mumbled into the tangled blankets.
*Took it home, washed it off, and put it back on. I was happy again complete. People sometimes tell me I should get it permanently attached, but I don't know. Even though sometimes it's a pain in the ass, I like having a detachable penis.*
"Weird ass song." Rolling over, Spike tugged off his jeans and sent them careening after the last boot. Naked, he fumbled on the night stand for the remote control, then turned on the television. "'Let's do the time warp again,'" blared from the set, and he grinned sloppily. "Good." He sang along, doing the time warp on his back, then just as the movie was getting good, it broke for commercial. "Ice, ice baby, my ass," he growled at the skaters on the screen. "Stupid bloody pansy clothes."
There was a clatter on the stairs and Xander came down carrying a couple of sacks and a six pack of beer.
"Fuzzy beer dah," Spike yelled, jumping to his feet and falling on his face.
"What? And why are you naked? Euuuu!" Xander set the food and beer down on the washing machine, trying not to look at the naked vampire sprawled at his feet."
"Beer, fuzzy, mind, fuzzy." Spike dragged himself up onto the hideous orange chair and snagged the whole six pack.
"Hey."
"Piss off."
"Those are mine."
"Who's the legal one here, mate?"
Xander scowled and opened one of the sacks.
"What didya get?" Spike mumbled around an open beer can.
"Kentucky Fried chicken and Taco Bell chalupas. And, what do you care? You don't eat."
"Any bickies?"
"Huh? Oh, biscuits? Yeah..." Hesitantly Xander handed the vampire one.
"Honey," Spike snapped, holding out his hand for a packet. He smeared honey on the biscuit and aimed the whole thing at his mouth. It fell from his fingers and landed on his lap. "Oh, fucking perfect." Leaning his head back, he stared at the ceiling, crying plaintively, "Why me? What did I do to deserve this? I'm a demon, after all, just going about my demon business and..."
"What are you whining about now?" Xander asked, leaning against the washer eating a chalupa.
"My life sucks."
"You have no life, and MY life sucks," Xander retorted, grabbing one of the beers. Spike reached for another one, overextended himself, and crashed into the table they were sitting on, knocking it over and himself to the floor. The lamp broke and one of the cans split open, spewing beer everywhere."
"Are you okay?" Xander asked, concerned.
"Why do you care about me? I'm a big nobody! All I do is just sit here--or lie here--and get drunk and cause more mayhem for you. Plus, I...I...I was responsible for getting Family Matters canceled."
"Uh huh. Well...good. It was a stupid show with a really annoying character on it. You're no where near as annoying." As he spoke, Xander reached down and helped Spike back onto the chair. Grabbing a towel, he tossed it to the vampire. "Get cleaned up, get some clothes on, and I'll heat up the rest of the biscuits in the microwave."
Spike stared at the towel, then brushed it absently over his beer-dampened chest. Sobriety was returning and he couldn't believe he'd blabbed all that. Family Matters? He wouldn't have been caught dead watching Family Matters. Where had that come from?
"Maybe if we actually had GOOD beer to drink," he muttered.
"What? You don't like Coors?" Xander teased, grinning. As he was tugging on a pair of jeans, Spike flicked him off, then watched the young man reach behind the deep freeze and pull out a six pack of Old Peculiar.
"Where? How?" Spike took the beer reverently, caressing the box and hugging it to his chest.
"I asked Giles what some good English beers were and he suggested this." Xander shrugged. "Hey, if we gotta live together we can't have you getting drunk on just any old crap." He picked up the table and set down the hot food, then snagged a beer before sitting on the edge of the bed.
"You know, Harris, you're not quite the pooftah I figured you for."
"Thanks, Spike. You're a real demon yourself. Ooh, Rocky Horror!" Holding out his bottle, Xander grinned as Spike clinked his against it, then they settled back to eat and drink and watch the movie in tipsy silence.
End