Tequila, it makes me happy.
I'd write a disclaimer but you know what I'm gonna say so I'm not.
"99 bottlesh of beer on der wall,
99 bottlesh of beer!
Take one down, an' pash it aroun'
Ummm…..49 bottlesh of beer on der wall."
A * very * drunk Spike wandered the streets of Sunnydale,
"49 bottlesh of beer on der wall,
49 bottlesh of beer!
Take one down … an' Shpike drinksh it all,
42 bottlesh of beer on der wall."
He looked at the empty bottle of Tequila in his hand, and sitting on someone's garden wall, began to talk to the parked car in front of him,
"Y'kno' wha'? Thish bottlesh empty. Got any mo'?
To Spike's disappointment, the car didn't answer. He took that as a "no".
"Oh. Well. I'll jusht avta go find shum mo' won't I?"
he got up and staggered towards the graveyard, in search of more alcohol.
After stealing a 3-quarter full bottle of vodka from a sleeping vamp, Spike sat in a tree, sipping the dregs delicately,
"Wudn' wanna washte it now wud I?" He said to himself. He took one last swig as Buffy and Willow strolled past, on Buffy's nightly patrol. Spike leant forward to see them better, and consequently fell out of the tree. The two Sunnydale lasses turned to see a * very * drunk Spike lying on his back like a beetle, grinning happily at them,
"Caw! Lookit dat! Two shtunning girlsh! Musht be my lucky day!"
The Slayer couldn't help but smile at him as he rolled around the floor, trying ti get up.
"Oh Spike. How much have you had to drink?"
The legless vampire held the now empty bottle of vodka upside down,
"Couldn'ta drunk nuthin'. Shee? Der bottlesh empty. No drink for Shpike to drink. Not drunk nuthin'."
Spike wriggled on the floor,
"Can't sheem to get up. Help Shlayer!"
Buffy and Willow giggled and helped him to his feet, and as they lead him to Giles' house, he began to sing. Incredibly out of tune.
"Nobody likesh me,
Evr'body hatesh me,
I tink I'll go ea' wormsh.
Long, thin shkinny onesh,
Bi' fa' jooshy onesh.
Wotchem wiggle an' shquirm!"
The Slayer and her Wiccan friend were laughing so hard, they could barely hold him up, and he began to sing louder,
"Bite orf dere headsh an' shuck dere josh!
An' tro dere shkinsh awaaaaaay!
No body knowsh 'ow I shurvive onna hunded wormsh a daaaay!"
"Spike! Please! No more!" Buffy pleaded whilst laughing hysterically,
"Washa matta? Don't like my shingin'? Sh'alri' Shlayer, Shpike shtop shingin'."
They got him into Giles' house and tied him to chair so he couldn't hurt himself, but he didn't seem to notice,
"Y'kno wha' Shlayer? I love you. An' y'kno wha' Willsh? You're my beshtesht friend in the whoooooooole world!"
Willow hid all the alcoholic drinks Giles possessed, she wasn't taking any chances.
"Shlayer?"
"Yesh Spike?" Buffy giggled, imitating Spike's drunken speech.
"I love you."
"You've told me."
Spike grinned at her,
"I love you lotsh an' lotsh an' lotsh an' - "
"Spike emough! I get the point!"
He began to rock in his chair,
"Shee shaw, shee shaw, shee sh - "
The chair fell over, and Spike was left squirming on the carpet, "Ooopsh."
With the help of Willow, Buffy sat him upright again, and went home, leaving the drunk vampire in the care of her watcher.
The next morning they returned to see Spike with a face like thunder.
"Washa matta Shpike?" Willow teased.
"The pillock won't give me an aspirin….here, what's wrong with your voice?"
Both girls grinned at each other and Buffy sat on the sofa,
"Don't you remember?"
"Listen Slayer, I'm not in the mood for games."
"Don't you mean Shlayer?!"
Spike went a deep red as the memories of the previous night flooded his head.
"Oh bugger, please tell me I didn't!"
Willow tried not to laugh as she quoted him,
"Y'kno wha' Shlayer? I love you * giggle * I love you lotsh an' lotsh an' lotsh."
Then it was Buffy's turn,
"Y'kno wha' Willsh? You're my beshtesht frien' in der whooole world!"
"Okay, pack it in now."
Spike's face was turning an even brighter red as he saw Giles standing in the doorway in hysterics.
"Stop laughing. Now. I have a sodding hangover!"
"Want an aspirin?" Giles smiled.
"Yes, please!" said Spike, trying not to sound desperate. He downed the painkillers quickly and grumbled,
"I am * never * touching alcohol again!"
Giles poured himself a brandy,
"Want one?"
"Oh, yes please!"
It wasn't until the Ripper handed him the glass, that Spike realised what he'd said. He shrugged nonchalantly,
"Force of habit," and gulped it down, "any more?"
I'd write a disclaimer but you know what I'm gonna say so I'm not.
"99 bottlesh of beer on der wall,
99 bottlesh of beer!
Take one down, an' pash it aroun'
Ummm…..49 bottlesh of beer on der wall."
A * very * drunk Spike wandered the streets of Sunnydale,
"49 bottlesh of beer on der wall,
49 bottlesh of beer!
Take one down … an' Shpike drinksh it all,
42 bottlesh of beer on der wall."
He looked at the empty bottle of Tequila in his hand, and sitting on someone's garden wall, began to talk to the parked car in front of him,
"Y'kno' wha'? Thish bottlesh empty. Got any mo'?
To Spike's disappointment, the car didn't answer. He took that as a "no".
"Oh. Well. I'll jusht avta go find shum mo' won't I?"
he got up and staggered towards the graveyard, in search of more alcohol.
After stealing a 3-quarter full bottle of vodka from a sleeping vamp, Spike sat in a tree, sipping the dregs delicately,
"Wudn' wanna washte it now wud I?" He said to himself. He took one last swig as Buffy and Willow strolled past, on Buffy's nightly patrol. Spike leant forward to see them better, and consequently fell out of the tree. The two Sunnydale lasses turned to see a * very * drunk Spike lying on his back like a beetle, grinning happily at them,
"Caw! Lookit dat! Two shtunning girlsh! Musht be my lucky day!"
The Slayer couldn't help but smile at him as he rolled around the floor, trying ti get up.
"Oh Spike. How much have you had to drink?"
The legless vampire held the now empty bottle of vodka upside down,
"Couldn'ta drunk nuthin'. Shee? Der bottlesh empty. No drink for Shpike to drink. Not drunk nuthin'."
Spike wriggled on the floor,
"Can't sheem to get up. Help Shlayer!"
Buffy and Willow giggled and helped him to his feet, and as they lead him to Giles' house, he began to sing. Incredibly out of tune.
"Nobody likesh me,
Evr'body hatesh me,
I tink I'll go ea' wormsh.
Long, thin shkinny onesh,
Bi' fa' jooshy onesh.
Wotchem wiggle an' shquirm!"
The Slayer and her Wiccan friend were laughing so hard, they could barely hold him up, and he began to sing louder,
"Bite orf dere headsh an' shuck dere josh!
An' tro dere shkinsh awaaaaaay!
No body knowsh 'ow I shurvive onna hunded wormsh a daaaay!"
"Spike! Please! No more!" Buffy pleaded whilst laughing hysterically,
"Washa matta? Don't like my shingin'? Sh'alri' Shlayer, Shpike shtop shingin'."
They got him into Giles' house and tied him to chair so he couldn't hurt himself, but he didn't seem to notice,
"Y'kno wha' Shlayer? I love you. An' y'kno wha' Willsh? You're my beshtesht friend in the whoooooooole world!"
Willow hid all the alcoholic drinks Giles possessed, she wasn't taking any chances.
"Shlayer?"
"Yesh Spike?" Buffy giggled, imitating Spike's drunken speech.
"I love you."
"You've told me."
Spike grinned at her,
"I love you lotsh an' lotsh an' lotsh an' - "
"Spike emough! I get the point!"
He began to rock in his chair,
"Shee shaw, shee shaw, shee sh - "
The chair fell over, and Spike was left squirming on the carpet, "Ooopsh."
With the help of Willow, Buffy sat him upright again, and went home, leaving the drunk vampire in the care of her watcher.
The next morning they returned to see Spike with a face like thunder.
"Washa matta Shpike?" Willow teased.
"The pillock won't give me an aspirin….here, what's wrong with your voice?"
Both girls grinned at each other and Buffy sat on the sofa,
"Don't you remember?"
"Listen Slayer, I'm not in the mood for games."
"Don't you mean Shlayer?!"
Spike went a deep red as the memories of the previous night flooded his head.
"Oh bugger, please tell me I didn't!"
Willow tried not to laugh as she quoted him,
"Y'kno wha' Shlayer? I love you * giggle * I love you lotsh an' lotsh an' lotsh."
Then it was Buffy's turn,
"Y'kno wha' Willsh? You're my beshtesht frien' in der whooole world!"
"Okay, pack it in now."
Spike's face was turning an even brighter red as he saw Giles standing in the doorway in hysterics.
"Stop laughing. Now. I have a sodding hangover!"
"Want an aspirin?" Giles smiled.
"Yes, please!" said Spike, trying not to sound desperate. He downed the painkillers quickly and grumbled,
"I am * never * touching alcohol again!"
Giles poured himself a brandy,
"Want one?"
"Oh, yes please!"
It wasn't until the Ripper handed him the glass, that Spike realised what he'd said. He shrugged nonchalantly,
"Force of habit," and gulped it down, "any more?"