Buffy and Spike stood inside Spike's crypt. Dust shone in a ray of sun from the boarded-up window.
"It's a Tralug demon you're after...nasty taste for hookers and harlots," Spike said. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a puff. "I can't say I blame him though."
Buffy contorted her face and replied, "Ugh, Spike, seriously? Prostitutes? That's disgusting."
"What? " Spike asked. "It's an easy blood supply. It's not like a vamp can get AIDs, love." He took another puff of his cigarette.
"And besides, they taste kinda tangy," he said with a smirk, "like Sweet Tarts."