All About Spike

The Demon Descanting
By alliterator

Disclaimer: I own nothing, Joss Whedon owns everything, yadda yadda yadda.
Thanks to Yseult for the unusual lyrics. I had a hard time as this was my first Lyric Wheel, but I finally wrote it all the day before the deadline. (See, having a deadline makes me work!)
Note: Takes place during Season 3 of Buffy, before Lovers Walk.

It had the one long horn, one big eye. Of course, the horn was fake, made of plastic, and held on by a rubber band, but the eye was real. It stared at Spike, like an unblinking Cyclops.

"Will you give me the beer already?" Spike yelled at the bartender. "I don't have all day." That was a lie. He had all day and all night for weeks and weeks, now that Drusilla had left him. The bartender looked at him with his one eye again and finally handed over the beer. "About bloody time."

Spike turned around to come face to face with Bill Clinton - or at least a demon sporting a Bill Clinton mask. Spike was tempted to rip the mask off and shove it down the demon's throat, but then he remembered the No-Violence spell this place had, so he settled for a, "Out of my way."

"Sorry," the demon removed the mask to reveal that he was a Skin Demon. "I can barely see out of this thing. I only bought it because it was the scariest thing at the Halloween store." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Clem." Spike pushed past him and went to a table without saying a word. Clem followed and sat down next to him. "So, uh, why are you here? I mean, what do you want him to tell you?" Spike had no idea of what he was talking about so he just stayed quiet. Maybe if I ignore him he'll leave me alone, he thought. "I'm going to have him tell me where I should go after LA. I mean, all my kitten-poker buddies have been recruited into this cult by this weird voodoo guy with these sort of red eyes, but since I'm not really a violent demon, he didn't choose me and now I have no one to play poker with and that was the only reason that I stayed in this city, since I don't really like it and the smog is terrible and boy, the traffic. Do you play poker?"

Spike's will failed. "What the bleeding hell are talking about?" he shouted.

Clem faltered. "You mean... you didn't come here to sing?"

"Sing? Why would I ever want to sing? What would give you the idea that I would ever want to sing?"

"Well," Clem said pointing to the stage, "you're at a karaoke bar." Onstage, a Grr'kla demon started singing "My Funny Valentine."

"Oh, god." Spike banged his head against the table, then lifted it and took a drink. "Why me?"

"No, this is a good thing!" Clem said. "I mean, you've obviously got troubles and there's a guy here who can help. I mean, he can tell you what your path is and where you are meant to be."

Spike looked up. "Really? He is who?"

"His name is Lorne. He runs this place."

"And you say he can tell your future?"

"Not exactly. I mean, he can tell what path you're on and… well, he reads your aura." Clem looked over to the left and pointed at a place. "There he is."

Spike looked where Clem had pointed and saw that the Grr'kla demon, finished singing, was now talking to a green-skinned demon with real horns. "That's him, is it? He can tell me where I am supposed to be?"

"Yep," Clem said. "That's Lorne. People come all over to sing for him?"

"What?" Spike was back to being confused.

"I... didn't mention it?" Clem stammered. "Lorne... he reads your aura when you, uh, sing."

"You mean I'm going to have to sing?" Spike's tone grew increasingly angrier.

"Well, hey, I was nervous about it, too. I mean, what could I sing and I don't think I have a nice voice at all and then there's anxiety and stage-fright and all that-"

"I. Don't. Have. Stage-fright."

"Of... of course not, I mean, a vampire like you has probably been in lots of movies, or at least inspired some, I mean, I bet some of those unsolved cases they show on A&E are yours-"

"I'll do it." Spike felt confident. He was going to sing and the green-skinned demon was going to tell him how to get Drusilla back because that had to be his path. She was his path.

After a shabbily dressed vampire had stopped crooning "I Ran" by A Flock of Seagulls and went off to talk to Lorne, Clem got up. "Um, it's my turn now. You can go after me." He got up on stage, cleared his voice, and said, "I'm, a, going to sing a song by one of favorite singers now." He swallowed nervously and then started to sing "Crazy" by Pasty Cline.

After Clem finished, Spike got up. He was cool and confident. Maybe I'll sing Billy Idol? he thought. "Shangri-la"? Nah. Maybe "Rebel Yell."

Clem had finished talking with Lorne by now and he approached Spike. "Well, I know where I'm going now."

"Yeah? Where's that?"

"The Hellmouth."

Spike grinned. "You might want to lie low there, mate. That’s where the Slayer lives."

"Oh, I know, but Lorne said that he knew of a nice kitten-poker tournament that was going on there, so that's where I'm off to. If you ever go there, give me a call."

"I'll go back to that place when it snows in Hell."

"Sure, sure." Clem walked away with a grin, like he knew something Spike didn't.

Spike finally went up to the stage. He saw a television screen that listed a number of songs. He went through them until he found the one he wanted and then picked up the microphone. The lyrics to "The Dead Next Door" started to scroll up the screen and Spike started singing.

Afterwards, he walked to where Lorne was standing. The green-skinned demon was leaning against the bar and idly sipping a margarita.

"So," Spike said, "how do I get her back?"

"I assume you're talking about Drusilla?" Lorne looked deep in thought. "I'm afraid you're not going to like what I'm going to say."

Suddenly, Spike had a sickening feeling. What if he says I can't get her back? What if I have to live without her? No. No, he's a fraud, then. I'll get her back. I'll get her back if it kills me again. He didn't say this though. He said, "Tell it to me anyway."

"You can get her back." Spike sighed with relief inside. "But I don't suggest it. Let her go. I know you won't understand, but you're better off without her." Spike suddenly felt a swell of anger. Who was Lorne to say if Spike was better off with her? He'd never met her! He can't tell from the reading of one bloody aura. He thrusts his fists forward to grab Lorne, but the No-Violence spell repelled him. "Whoa! I knew you wouldn't understand."

"Just tell me how I can get her back," Spike spat out.

"Fine, if that's what you want." Lorne turned and gulped at his margarita. He put it down on the bar, then turned to Spike and said, "Your path lies in Sunnydale. With the Slayer."

Spike smiled. Of course. If he killed the Slayer, Drusilla would come back to him. It was perfect. "Thanks for the advice," Spike said. He turned, got his beer and headed out to his Desoto. He was going back to Sunnydale.

"Happy Halloween," Lorne said after him. "And drive safely." He sighed and turned back to the stage where a Fyarl demon was grunting "Happy Birthday to You," the only song a Fyarl could memorize. He turned back to the bar and said, "I'm going to need another margarita."


The One-Eyed One-Horned Flying Purple People Eater by Sheb Wooley

Well I saw the thing comin' out of the sky
It had the one long horn, one big eye.
I commenced to shakin' and I said "ooh-eee"
It looks like a purple people eater to me.

It was a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater.
(one-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater)
A one-eyed one-horned, flyin' puple people eater
Sure looks strange to me. (one eye?)

Well he came down to earth and lit in a tree
I said Mr. Purple People Eater don't eat me
I heard him say in a voice so gruff
I wouldn't eat you 'cos you're so tough

It was a one-eyed, one-horned flyin' purple people eater
one-eyed, one-horned flyin' purple people eater
one-eyed, one-horned flyin' purple people eater
Sure looks strange to me. (one horn?)

I said Mr. Purple People Eater, what's your line
He said it's eatin' purple people and it sure is fine
But that's not the reason that I came to land
I wanna get a job in a rock and roll band

Well bless my soul, rock and roll, flying purple people eater.
Pigeon-toed, undergrowed, flyin' purple people eater
(we wear short shorts) Flyin' purple people eater
sure looks strange to me.

And then he swung from the tree and lit on the ground.
He started to rock, really rockin' around
It was a crazy little ditty with a swingin' tune
(sing awop bop aloo bop lop bam boom)

Well, bless my soul, rock and roll
flyin' purple people eater
Pigeon-toed, undergrowed, flyin' purple people eater.
Flyin' little people eater
Sure looks strange to me. (purple people?)

And then he went on his way, and then what do you know.
I saw him last night on a TV show.
He was blowing it out, a 'really knockin' em dead
Playin' rock and roll music through the horn in his head


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