The crux of a good plan has always been three things: knowing your enemy, planning for the worst, and having brute strength.
Knowing my enemy, I can tell you the one thing that always makes the bloody worst possible outcome happen are her "friends." Soddin' useless lot they are, but when you've got something to keep fightin' for and something to distract your opponent, well, it's a foolproof plan. So long as you know who is your enemy, that is.
Spare me a moment to look back on the absurdity of the Slayer… did the stupid cow really think that she could just insult me and beat me and I'd be ole harmless Spike, chained up in the Watcher's bathtub, the Whelp's basement… couldn't hurt a fly. Let me tell you, those Wankers made a right show of torturing me, and I let it go.
You just don't kill the friends of the person you love, it isn't proper, even if they're hell bent and determined to be the death of you.
Truth of the matter is, it was ridiculously bloody easy to get that fuckin' piece of mechanical hatred out of my head. S'matter of fact, I took it out right after that botched attempt with the doctor. How, you ask?
Children, children, have you mates not been following along? I used to live with the three meanest and bloody craziest vampires to ever roam; we weren't a pack, we were utter annihilation. Now you mean to tell me that us four got such a lovely rep for being all smiles and playing kitten poker. Lot of bastards was into torture and rape, not exclusively to their victims, and so sue me; I followed proudly in their footsteps.
Dawning on you now? Carved the bloody thing right out of my head, I did. S'not like anything short of decapitation and that ever present threat of falling on a fence post can kill me. Took a knife, pushed it in, played 'round until I hit something metal, used my other hand and yanked the damn thing out.
Simple really, when you've spent exceeding amounts of time being tortured in ways that make something like that feel like a horse fly bite; annoying but hardly painful. Brain damage? I may be a right stupid git at times, but at last, I remembered… I'm a soddin' vampire!
Only question left, who do I kill first, 'tis right simple if you've been following 'long like good little children. The Whelp and Wanker of a Watcher won that poll by a long shot, and even invited me in after. Thought to insult me some more I guess, taunt me with Slayer's un-love of me.
Ta, now children, be nice or I'll rip your lungs out through your arses with that useful little hooked knife I've got in my coat, been saving it just for you.
They thought I was joking.
Course'n that's for later… wouldn't want to end the fun so soon, would we? No, I think not, seeing as you can't rightly answer… having you splayed up on the wall, unconscious and naked.
As Peaches used to say, "Ain't nothin' funner than tiein' 'em up, torturin' 'em, and fuckin' 'em till their ribs break an' their brains start to leak out of their ears… then ya can start pullin' organs out." Bastard used to be right fun and Irish 'fore that nasty gypsy bitch; she even tasted rotten.
First lesson 'e ever taught me; if they fall asleep, wake 'em up right unpleasantly. Well, well, grandsire, think I just might be able to pull it off… I like sticking toothpicks (wonderful little creations; like miniature wooden spikes!) under their fingernails, all the way. Hurts like a hot poker up the arse (not a bad idea for later) and not much blood escapes.
Which brings us to the second lesson, torture is a precise art, it's not sloppy, and nobody bleeds, whimpers, passes out, or screams until you want them to.
Right now, I'll settle for the screaming those toothpicks (bloody brilliant word by the way) are inspiring in the two "men." This would be when brute strength plays in; you can't very well finish sticking them up all ten fingernails after the first one's been done because humans tend to squirm… Course if'n you're a vampire, you can.
Hope the Slayer 'membered to tell them she loved them and that they were her bestest friends in the whole world. 'Cause, if'n she didn't, gonna be a tad too late come morning.