"I was wondering if you could not eat my brains, they may be yummy and all but I really need them, okay?"
Thanks to a spell gone wrong, which happens way too much these days (just ask the eyebrow less Xander), I was face to face with a brain-nibbling serial killer without Buffy to save my butt.
(I could see his mouth watering as he studies my over-sized noggin)
"I don't eat brains; I just play with them, Rosenberg, besides you're just so cute that I don't want to rip open your head."
It was hard to take a compliment from him, after all it was that sinister face of his that christens the nightly news with how utterly horrible he is and to watch those brains of yours.
"I've seen a whole lot worse than brain-eating in my day, Sylar, and at least you're somewhat normal, discounting how you find those brains and the whole flying thing."
(with the flick of a finger here they are saying hello looking all grey and mushy)
"And you, Rosenberg happen to be the very first witch I've had the pleasure of meeting, and I quite like you."
(why do I always have to be liked my the nut bars, serial killers, and evil doppelgangers?)
"Not all the other ones are so sweet and cuddly like me, Sylar, but be warned if you do anything bad to me you'll get a nasty surprise."
It would be so damn funny as my eyes turn jet black, and this copper hair of mine joins along, and that smirk of his finally drops away, with each bit of pink skin.
(but he'll grow it back and I'll have so much fun doing it over and over again)
"Don't you worry, Willow, I plan on keeping you as happy as can be, trust me, honey, and I can be somewhat of a gentleman when I put my mind to it."