The Stupid Sock Gift
Stop squirming.
Well, you'd be pretty pissed off, too.
"And how are you feeling today, Buffy?"
I swear if you ask me that one more time I'm gonna spend the rest of my torturous unlife haunting your ass, Giles.
"Discomfort of any kind?"
Dis..comfort?
Discomfort.
Oh wait, here's the punch line.
I'm a freaking ghost strapped to a wall in spirit restraints that hurt like hell in my own fucking basement because my friends think I'm somehow a "danger to society," despite the fact that I can't actually touch anything, let alone raise a weapon to an innocent pedestrian, Giles, so no, I am just fucking peachy.
My death was the gift I gave you.
Now use it!
theend