Ask, and ye shall receive. For Victor:
Pretty Vacant
Either the desk staff at the Chelsea weren't big on security, or else they figured the visitors were with one of the bands. The night clerk never even looked up, just muttered "316, left at the elevator".
The mumbled "yeahwhatit'sopencominemmmpmphm", was all they needed. Spike followed Dru in. It was dinnertime, and they'd decided to slum.
The room was a mess, littered with works, dirty clothes, beer bottles. Sid and Nancy lay tangled on the filthy bed, deep in a heroin crash. Dru and Spike regarded them for a minute.
"Um. Listen, pet..."
"Ewwwwwwwww," Dru sang. "I'm not eating that."