In the light of the sun, a little grave lay on the ground.
One Sunday evening the cold moon came up and "Pop!" out of the grave came a tiny and very hungry vampire.
He started to look for some food.
On Monday he ate through one Cockney geezer. But he was still hungry.
On Tuesday he ate through two Yorkshire miners. But he was still hungry.
On Wednesday he ate through three Chinese peasants. But he was still hungry.
On Thursday he ate through four German submariners. But he was still hungry.
On Friday he ate through five greasy Italians. But he was still hungry.
On Saturday he ate through one bottle of Jack Daniels, one packet of Weetabix, one bucket of buffalo wings, one bottle of beer, one cookie (chocolate chip), one handful of Burba weed, one kitten, one more bottle of beer, one cup of hot chocolate (with tiny marshmallows) and one college co-ed.
That night he had a stomach ache!
The next day was Sunday again. The vampire ate his way through one lovely black slayer and after that he felt much better.
He was still sort of hungry.
He stole himself a nice black car called a DeSoto, and headed west for more than two weeks.
Then he arrived in Sunnydale.
And he wasn't just a little vampire anymore. He was a beautiful Spike.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I just borrow. No offense is meant - it's all just pure affection.