(I know, I know. I suck. But I can't help myself. I hate Ted Nugent...)

When bows got boring he started stalking deer with a rock.

The man's a freak.

And his music bores me blind.

And I'd love to see him stalked for a few hours, then taken down by Spike and Dru.

MUNCH
(Look, plot. Remember plot? Thought you might.) The next night Lilah hurries me into the office really fast and is careful to close the door behind us. Counselor Herrenvolk is nowhere around, which gives me quite the thrill(yes, even with everything going on. Have you seen Lilah? Legs till Tuesday, she’s got.)Then the barking and growling starts.

But unlike the pack I was expecting, there’s one dog. Three heads, no waiting. It’s a cerberus, I tell myself, pulling that out of who-knows-what mist surrounding my college experience.(Alicia went through a big mythology phase, dedicating poems to Demeter and such. It should be no surprise to anyone that the darker parts are the ones that stuck with me, though.) “What’s with Cujo? License problem?”

“In case our more legitimate inquiries fail.” And she gives me a very pointed look.

“ But I thought they weren’t even real. Where’d this thing come from?”

“Kind of like vampires. The Senior Partners brought it from the English office. It fell off a wizard’s broomstick, ok? Don’t ask so many questions.”

“Fuck the senior partners. They aren’t going to have to babysit this hellbeast, right?”

“Shhh, you don’t know what you’re saying.” I’d never seen a woman turn so many colors without being exposed to my dubious “technique”.On the floor, the creature growled and snarled.

“I know this violates the whole ‘sit there and look pretty’ thing but Scooby Doo on acid is my job isn’t he?”

“Someone wants you to look pretty? Well, they ought to know not to expect the impossible.Well, I could take the dog out. We wouldn’t miss anything. But that begs the question of what I’m paying you for.”

An image of Kay, still and pale, but this time with her throat ripped out, flashed through my mind. Do you know how much people bleed through their carotids? Trust me, you don’t want to. “Okay,” I said, “but I must warn you, I’m Jewish. We’re not at our best with dogs and horses.”

“Has it escaped your notice that you’re not even alive anymore?”

“Doesn’t matter, babe. Not when you’re talking about the collective unconscious and tribal memory. As long as I’m conscious, I’m part of the chain. Mess with that, you get people like you and the Commandant there. Beautiful and confused.”

I loved Victor's continuation of this Spike -music story and I'm loving Deb's Spike-music drabbles.

I like the musicians Victor chose a lot, and the way he wrote Spike & Dru. All quite yummy. Ditto for Deb's continuation.

wrod. I almost felt like I didn't want to follow them.

“I know this violates the whole ‘sit there and look pretty’ thing but Scooby Doo on acid is my job isn’t he?”

I think I just burned the inside of my septum, blowing coffee through it.

A three headed hound of hell. Scooby Doo on Acid. Tell me his name isn't Baskerville.

More seriously, I like the musings on tribal memory - and do Jewish vampires cower away from crosses? Because, why should they?

Also? That picture of Kay in his head...ouch.

Ow! Really? I don't know...but that would be something Munch would think about. He gets kind of preoccupied with the identity thing."What if we're all part of some larger creature's fantasy?" or whatnot. Well, I figured he would think about it because he would know what that sort of stuff looks like

Yes! Jewish vampires and crosses! Inquiring ficcers need to know!

edit: of course, in other vamp universes, it's not the faith of the vampire but the faith of the wielder that matters.