A/N: HEYS YALLS! Welcome to chappie 21! It's another Spike one… yeah. Took Anon's suggestion for cigarette + vampy. It's kinda shorty. THERE ARE A COUPLE OF THINGS WOULD LIKE TO ADRESS:

1 I have made my descision, this story will be 50 chapters long.

2 I am sorry to be so late getting to reviews, but I like to do "research" (watch corresponding Buffy episodes) for the ones with more obscure chracters, but unfortunately I haven't been able to find time to watch BtVS since I started writing this story. (THAT'S 42 DAYS! BE VERY GLAD THAT I CONTINUE THIS CRAP!) happily, this leads to

3 I CAN'T WAIT FOR SUMMER!

To my reviewers:

Vera Amber: HAHA! I had a dream about minkles chasing me last night the were all chanting "Shun the nonbeliever… Shun…". But they all turned into smurfs halfway through. And then I was attacked by st Fang of Boredom's Justin, and that was really weird. YOU'RE JEALOUS OF MY CRAPPY WORK ETHIC? And I'm jealous of you, because you still have your tv privledges . I'm hyper and slaphappy mwahahaha!

Gerbils4ever: Fine, gerby. You're sitting on your bed, eating peanut butter girl scout cookies. Capiche? thnx.

Oh My Freakin' Freakin': LOLZ! *Goes to kitchen to make toaster art*

Okay, then, you can have gerby's pickles. She doesn't like them, apparently *death stare*. My door is next to the bathroom door, unfortunately. And pudding does go well with pickles! WHEN WILL PEOPLE START LISTENING! My A/N is like a freakin novel. thank you for reviewing!

Fireworks

Spike was standing in the local CVS behind a cash register, feeling his brains slowly ooze out of his ears.

Yes, CVS. He had gotten a job because Buffy told him she was breaking up with him if he didn't get a job. He had tried McDonalds, Wal-mart, Krispy Kreme, anything a self respecting non-worker like himself would do. But eventually, it had came to this. He was working part time at a drugstore.

Thud! Approximately twenty bottles of hairspray, mousse, gel, and other unidentified products was duped upon the counter. Without looking at his customer, he stiffly scanned the items through and shoved them in (individual) bags.

"Nice weather today, eh?"

"Shut up," Spike spat though gritted teeth. He didn't think he could take more of this. Thirty minutes was way too long to suffer.

"Uh… why are you putting them all in separate bags?" his customer asked. Spike finally looked up at him. Young guy, spiky hair, makeup, reeked of flowers.

"Shut UP!"

"That's quite bad for the environment, you know."

Spike flung the twenty bags at him. "Freakin have a bloody nice day!"

"Hey, aren't you going to give me my receipt? I'm making a collage of-"

"WAAAH!" Spike wailed and jumped over the counter to assault his customer. He picked up a hairbrush in one hand, a mini rake in another, and whacked him liberally.

But alas, the moment of bliss would not last…

"Hey! Hey, Spike? SPIKE! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" It was his manager. The large bald guy dragged him off of the other guy and held him out of reach.

"That is unacceptable work behavior! You fired! No questions asked."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" Spike let out a long, drawn out scream of hysteria that continued as he walked to his car, got in, sat down. Then he stared blankly out the window for a couple seconds before starting the engine and quietly driving off.

Later that night, he pulled up to 123 Happy Ponies Rd. It had pink paint ad purple shutters… yeah. He had looked up the guy who had gotten rid of his job, and this was where he lived. His name was Edward Cullen. He also hadn't paid his electrical bill in three years. Not that Spike cared.

He walked up the front walkway bordered invitingly by dead petunias. When he reached the door, he pulled back and punched as hard as vampirically (yes, it's a word) possible. It didn't budge. So he kicked it and it opened easily.

Immediately when the door opened, he smelled the strong reek of sewage. Eew. He reluctantly entered the living room, painted brown with an artichoke colored trim, combined with a lovely mottled pink carpet.

He took a bottle of silly string out of his purse man-bag.

The metal was cold against his hand as he squirted around and around the room at random, screaming "WEEEEEEEEEE!".

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE! He had another nineteen cans in his large purse man-bag.

After all cans were empty, he left with a warm, fuzzy feeling.

The next night, Spike was coming back from a walk. He unlocked the door and opened it. He looked up to see a bucket of water slowly tilting towards him…

With a crash, it all splashed down on him. It was icy cold, and completely ruined his night.

Later, he was out for a walk with Buffy.

"So, let me get this straight. You assaulted some poor guy because he asked for a receipt? With a hairbrush and a metal hand rake? Have you completely lost your mind?" she asked, incredulous.

Spike said, "I had survived thirty minutes of that crap! I'm bloody proud of myself, if you ask me!"

"You're unbelievable."

Spike took another step… AND SAW HIM.

HE was walking along the sidewalk, hands in pockets, whistling as if he was innocent.

BUT SPIKE KNEW HE WASN'T.

He thought back to the drugstore. What was his weakness? …AHA! An evil plan formed slowly in his brain (we're going to pretend he has a brain, for the sake of the story), at the same time the smile spread slowly across his face.

Buffy sighed, "And now you've gotten another one of your "evil" plans, haven't you?"

"I'm not evil! MWAHAHAHAHA!"

He took out a cigarette and lit it.

"Okay, so while you're going and having your evil smoke, I'm going to get a soda. Goodbye."

As HE came closer, Spike threw his cigarette at the pedestrian. His aim was perfect, despite his brainlessness.

POOF!

The spiky haired vampire ignited into a great, sparkling, magenta ball of fire. It was… amazing. It was… wonderful. It was… EVIL

Buffy came back a couple minutes later to find him cackling wildly nest to what appeared to be a giant sparkler. She wordlessly took his beer bottle away and dumped it out.

A/N: PRETTY COLORS…