Mal tells Angel a few stories from his past about Slayers and lovers, though they're different stories. Then Mal gives Angel the best chance he will ever have to kill him.
Angel struggles to stand, but can only sit up, using his arms to prop up his upper body, with great difficulty.
MAL: You didn't try to pry their mouths open and rip out their lower jaw. That's how I killed their parents, and the rest of their pack. Perhaps growing up orphans made them angry, more ferocious. [Crouches down in front of Angel, hands him an animal skin sack.] Drink. You need blood. Go ahead. It's not human. I give you my word. Don't give me that look. Have I lied to you yet? [Angel takes off the lid, smells what's inside to make sure it isn't human, then starts to drink. He is mightily thirsty.] It's dolphin blood. [Angel stops. He likes dolphins. Nobody likes to think of dolphins getting slaughtered.] Helps accelerate the healing. Getting it's the problem. Those suckers are fast swimmers, and they have very slippery skin. [Angel starts drinking again.] I met your son. And your friends. They are willing to die for you. Don't worry. I won't let it come to that. Your son is tough. He fights with spirit and desperation. Would he die for you? No. I'd rather you die for him. I know you would prefer it that way. Any parent would. The tall black fellow impressed me. I presume the shorter, unshaven white fellow is his assistant. As for the two ladies, I admire their courage. Standing their ground, even when they knew it could mean certain death. I especially liked the larger one with the shorter hair. She is cunning, and, I suspect, vicious when threatened by someone weaker than myself [smiles]. Some say you can judge a man by the quality of his women. I say that makes you a superb man. [By now, Angel has finished the sack, which had about a half-gallon of blood in it.]
ANGEL: If you think you can hurt me by threatening Fred and Cordy -
MAL: What threat? You presume I think like you? You presume wrong. Rape is the act of a coward and a loser. I never enter if I'm not invited. [laughs. hands Angel another sack] Drink up. You need more. There is something about you that puzzles me. You never amounted to much when you lacked a soul. I never even heard a single word about Angelus. You never had any kills of note. You hunted sheep and stayed away from lions. Why did it take a soul to make you brave?
ANGEL: If you have to ask, you couldn't understand.
MAL: Is it guilt? It must be more than that. A woman, perhaps? No. That would too ordinary. Never mind. I don't care why you're brave. So long as you are brave. Because, if you are not brave, I will feel cheated. And then I might kill your friends. As punishment. I know you are thirsty. Keep drinking. It tastes good, no? Lion's blood. I keep a few of them around here. Keep a lot of things around here, in case you haven't noticed. Got a Mohra demon in a dungeon somewhere. Now they are fun. Getting bigger and stronger each time you kill them.
ANGEL: Or you could do the smart thing and hit them in their third eye.
MAL: That's no fun. And they only have twelve lives. Sure, the last three are pretty tough. Thing gets to be twenty cubits high. But that's when it really gets fun.
ANGEL: You're so full of it.
MAL: I never lie. I never need to.
ANGEL: Then what happened when you got a few drops of their blood in your system?
MAL: For that to happen, the Mohra would have to cut my skin. That has yet to happen. And I've killed dozens, scores of them over the centuries. Occasionally, when I am bored, I summon one.
ANGEL: They wouldn't even attack the likes of you. You know that. You know they only go after champions working for The Powers That Be.
MAL: No one works FOR The Powers That Be. No one can. You cannot work for something that does not even know what it wants to do. The Powers are children playing at being divinities. If I cared to, I could crush each and every one of them. So could you. They would be no harder to destroy than a sand castle. [lets sand fall out of his right fist] And this champion business. Do you think you are a champion?
ANGEL: No. I know I am.
MAL: Don't demean yourself. Champions are [waves his right hand in the air] fleeting. Like torches left outside in a monsoon. Brave, doomed, inconsequential. I don't even bother to fight champions. There's no glory killing something destined for an early death. I only kill those who would live for a very long time were it not for me.
ANGEL: Is this your idea of flattery?
MAL: No. This is my idea of education. I don't like to kill the ignorant.
Gunn hears noises outside. He runs into the courtyard.
GUNN: Fred. Guys. You gotta get out here. [Wes sticks his head out the door]
WES: The courtyard isn't protected.
GUNN: That doesn't mean we should let these bodies rot.
WES: Bodies? Whose bodies?
Wes steps outside. Fred and Cordy run out when they hear talk of bodies. There are five corpses on the ground in the courtyard.
CORDY: Corpses. Almost like being back home. [Gunn and Wes lean down and examine the bodies]
GUNN: Definitely the work of a vampire.
FRED: Mal?
WES: Quite possibly. [gets his eyes within a few inches of a neck wound and takes a long look] But these appear to be normal vampire bite marks. Mal doesn't have normal vampire teeth. I would expect his marks to be different.
GUNN: It's a taunt. He's taunting us.
WES: Showing us what can happen if he roams the streets unopposed.
CORDY: Maybe. But if we oppose him, these are our bodies.
WES: I'm not saying we should let him draw us out into danger.
GUNN: We need Angel back. And where's Lorne?
FRED: Tryin' to find out what he can about Mal, and where he took Angel.
WES: He's using his strengths. That's what we all need to do, if we want to find Angel.
CORDY: Might I suggest waiting until the sun comes up?
WES: Of course. Back inside until then. There's no point in going home. It's too dangerous. [Cordy, Gunn and Wes head in]
FRED: Wait! Guys, what about the bodies?
WES: Maybe we should call the police.
CORDY: And tell them what? Five dead bodies happened to get "dropped off" at our place of business?
GUNN: We should burn 'em. In case they turned.
CORDY: We don't have an incinerator. And the boiler's not big enough to handle a human body. [they look at her] I'm just saying, it doesn't look big enough. Not that I know anything about corpse burning, or corpse disposal, at this place. Hey, aren't you guys forgetting that I didn't even live here when I was evil?
WES: We could simply cut off their heads.
GUNN: Speakin' of which, where did you bury Lilah's body? She was the last person to die here, least while we were around.
FRED: Ahm sure these people have families. Wouldn't exactly be fair to make someone's mother or father vanish without a trace.
CORDY: Then we take the bodies somewhere. Dump them, I mean drop them, I mean place them in an alley a couple blocks from here. It's late. No one will see us. Police will find them by morning.
GUNN: I'll use my truck. I have a tarp in back. Used to have to do this all the time. Back in my old neighborhood.
ANGEL: You actually expect me to think it's some honor that you've come after me and my son?
MAL: No. I would be happy if you would merely begin to take the situation seriously. I'm not asking for desperation. Not yet, anyway. Just concern. You know what I can do. You can imagine how I would match up against the people you love. Don't deny how awful it feels to know you can do nothing to help those who matter most to you. I know that feeling. We spent the day engaging in acts of sublime transcendence. I know that's redundant, but if you've had it, you know what I'm talking about. Candace was a part of me. She loved being a part of me. I showed her the world. She helped me rule it. And then early one evening, just after sundown, I headed out to feed, like always. While I was gone, they set fire to the villa, smoked her out, and shot her full of arrows like a common bandit. Can you imagine how I felt when returned to find her body among the ashes? It was my fault. I should have been there to protect her. But she hated to watch me feed. And she was strong. Strong enough to take care of herself.
ANGEL: Is there a point to your sob story?
MAL: I know. There is nothing sorrier than a vampire feeling sorry for himself. But I didn't feel sorry for myself. I felt sorry for Candace. Sweet, strong, soulful Candace. With that magnificent obsidian heart: dangerous, dark, resilient, yet fragile. As if it could break at any second if I wasn't there to hold it.
ANGEL: That's a disgusting image. [Mal kicks him in the mouth. Angel grabs it in pain] For a bad vampire poet, you're really touchy.
MAL: Do you know how it feels to be loved?
ANGEL: I hated this conversation a lot less when it was a monologue. [At first Angel assumed Mal knew nothing about his life. Now he's beginning to (wrongly) suspect otherwise.]
MAL: Finish your lion's blood. I need you healthy.
ANGEL: Maybe you should have thought of that before you sicked your overgrown dingoes on me.
MAL: I did. [Angel has finished both sacks, downing about a gallon of blood. Mal pulls out a glass vial containing a light blue liquid] Drink this. It's a healing potion. The sort of thing every vampire should have around when he has been mauled.
ANGEL: Does that "No Killing In The Arena" rule apply to poisons?
MAL: Yes. But this is no poison. [Mal holds out the vial. Right now, Angel can barely stand. So he takes it, pulls off the rubber stopper and downs the liquid. Immediately, he feels his organs twist and convulse. His stomach is wracked with incredible pain. He grabs it, rolls on the ground, and starts to spasm.] I know it may feel like poison. That much Killer of the Dead would cause intense pain and shaking. Something very much like what you are experiencing right now. And all I would have to do is carry you out of this dimension, take you home, and, hopefully, return you to your friends in time for them to watch you die. [After thirty seconds, the spasms stop and Angel can sit up again. He feels very warm, notices he's sweating, and experiences sharp pains in his arms and legs, as well as a wicked headache] Ha-ha-hah-ha-hah. I am kidding! The only time I bought vampire poison was for myself. The apothecary thought I was mad. Especially when I insisted on a giant dose. Enough to kill me within ten minutes. That would make the fight challenging, and make the taste of victory even sweeter. But, when I killed her, there was only disappointment. So much for needing to DRAIN the blood of a Slayer. I should have known it was not to be taken literally. One gulp, and I was better. Perhaps I should have told that to her Watcher, so the records could be corrected. There are so many errors in the standard texts. At least in the ones I have perused. After that first mouthful, her blood tasted sour. Just like all the others after number eight. The more you drink, the worst it tastes. That's a little known fact, known only to me, for obvious reasons.
ANGEL: You think I don't know you're putting me on?
MAL: Why? What do you know of poisons? What do you know of Slayers? What can you possible know? As evil, you were not man enough to face one. Or, to be fair, you were smart enough to know you could not kill one. A soul does not bestow intelligence, so you must have possessed that all along. As good, you are not strong enough to make one work for you, and too proud to work for one as her inferior. But enough of Slayers. They are Champions, and therefore operate on a lower plane than you or I.
ANGEL: [chuckles] Is this an act, or are you really this clueless?
MAL: Perhaps I am wrong. But your story does not matter to me, because soon your story will be over.
ANGEL: What a coincidence. Did you know that I feel the same way about you?
MAL: On your feet.
ANGEL: I don't take orders. Certainly not from other vampires.
MAL: Can you kill me on your back?
Angel looks and realizes that after one minute of searing pain the potion had done quite a good job of healing him. His wounds are almost completely closed. Angel stands up, concerned about what weapons Mal has in his bag.
Around sunrise, inside the Hyperion. Gunn and Cordy are sleeping on couches in the lobby. Fred and Wes do research in the office.
WES: It says here that Mal killed his final two Slayers while blindfolded. That has to be an exaggeration.
Mal begins to pull objects out of the bag. He tosses a sword and a stake to Angel.
ANGEL: This looks a lot like my favorite broad sword. This IS my favorite broad sword!
MAL: You live well. You like buildings of stone with large halls. So do I. Though I don't go to the trouble of making sure my enemies can traverse my home without fear of bodily injury. Your enemies must appreciate your hospitality. Take these as well. Even though I would hardly call them weapons.
He tosses Angel two of his pop-out stake wrist attachments. Aside from the horror of knowing that Mal has been in his home, Angel is suspicious of these gifts.
ANGEL: You want to move up to fighting me with weapons?
MAL: No. You fight me with weapons. I fight you without them.
ANGEL: That would make this another one of your head games.
MAL: And, I fight you, wearing this.
Takes out a strip of black cloth, pulls it over his eyes, and ties it at the back of his head.
ANGEL: I don't like magic tricks.
MAL: No magic. I am sure you know how to sense an opponent without seeing him.
ANGEL: You expect me to be blind-folded too?
MAL: No. I expect you to try as best you can to kill me.
Angel slowly puts on his retractable wrist stakes, keeping his eyes on Mal, who strolls around humming the riff from Curtis Mayfield's "Freddy's Dead," which of course Angel doesn't recognize. The title's purely coincidental, and not at all a reference to Winifred. Angel places the stake in his belt and grips the sword's handle with both hands. Mal stops wandering, and stands six feet in front of Angel, who bends his knees and takes his time getting started. Mal starts to look around.
MAL: Angel? Angel, where are you? You're not trying to run away, are you?
Angel swings the sword from right to left, going for Mal's neck. Mal stops pretending to be lost, and ducks in time. Angel was expecting this, and lands a right uppercut to Mal's chin, followed by a left punch to his stomach and a right kick to his face. Angel tries to sweep Mal's legs with his left foot, but Mal jumps in the air and kicks Angel in the face with his right foot. Angel's testing Mal, discovering which moves he can sense. Mal steps towards him and throws a right jab. Angel steps back and swings his sword, trying to cut off Mal's right arm at the elbow. Mal pulls his right arm back in mid-punch, then lands a left cross and a left hook, followed by a right roundhouse kick to Angel's chest, which knocks Angel's back into the wall.
MAL: Did you also put on a blind-fold? I know you believe in fair play, but that would be a bit much.
Angel levels his sword and drives the point into Mal's stomach. Mal puts his right hand on top of Angel's right arm, preventing him from lifting the blade up and cutting Mal's chest open.
MAL: I felt that.
Mal knocks Angel down with two left hooks. As he falls, Angel lets go of the sword. Mal slowly pulls it out of his body. Angel looks up and realizes he blundered. Mal licks his blood off the flat sides of the sword, then wipes the rest of the blood off the weapon with his fingers before licking them.
MAL: I like to keep my blood under my skin. [touches his right index finger to his stomach and runs it up his wound, which quickly closes.] I kept a pinch of the potion for myself. How greedy of me. [drops the sword to the ground and backs up twenty feet. Angel grabs it and stands up] So many vampires squander their blood, sap their strength trying to play Creator. Myself, I have never sired a single vampire. You may have noticed that it's paid off. Perhaps this is why you are braver with a soul. No siring makes you stronger. [Angel goes bumpy and swings his sword in the air as he approaches Mal] I heard that. You aren't going to try to bite me, are you?
When he gets within range, Angel rams the pommel of his sword into Mal's mouth. He was listening for the blade, and wasn't expecting this. Angel follows up with two left jabs to Mal's mouth. Mal backs up. Angel switches the sword from his right to his left hand and throws a right hook. Mal swings his head back out of the way, then lands a quick left hook, right jab and left cross. Angel steps back away from Mal's right uppercut. Mal smiles, his feet start dancing, and he sings the groove from James Brown's "Papa's Got A Brand New Bag."
MAL: "Do . . . Do-do-do do . . . . Do . . . Do-do-do do." It's all about rhythm. Who has it. Who doesn't.
Mal circles counter-clockwise. Realizing that Mal could hear it swinging through the air from a mile away, Angel drives the sword into the ground and prepares to go purely hand-to-hand. He hits Mal in the stomach with a left hook kick. Mal blocks his right roundhouse kick. Angel eludes Mal's right jab and pounds him with two quick, lunging left hooks. Mal throws a wild left hook, which Angel avoids. He steps back from Mal's straight right kick for his face. Mal sings louder and starts to snap his fingers in time with the song. He blocks Angel's left jab with his right palm, then blocks Angel's right hook kick with his left forearm. Angel closes in, knowing this will give Mal less time to react. Mal puts his arms up in front of his face, but keeps snapping and singing. Angel lands two lefts and two rights to his ribs and kidneys, then gets him in the chin with a right elbow and a left uppercut. After taking two rights to the body, Mal grabs Angel's fists and pushes him five feet back. He starts dancing again, still singing and snapping, first with his right hand, then his left, then his right again. Angel slowly and deliberately plods towards his quick opponent, seeing if he'll stand or keep running away. The arena is forty times the size of a boxing ring, which gives Mal plenty of room to move. He avoids Angel's right cross and left jab. Angel lands a right uppercut to his stomach, steps back and kicks him in the face with a straight right kick. And still, Mal keeps singing and snapping, like a demon drum machine.
Angel steps in and lands a left jab and right hook to Mal's face. Mal stops snapping and singing, but begins whistling the groove. Angel throws a straight right kick to Mal's mouth, which he blocks. He realizes he should have known Mal would be expecting that. Mal dances back and forth. He blocks Angel's left jab and right hook kick, then hops over Angel's attempt to sweep the back of Mal's legs with his left foot. Angel lands a right jab to Mal's chest, then a right uppercut to his chin. Mal avoids Angel's left and right crosses. He ducks under Angel's right hook kick, and takes Angel's left roundhouse kick in his chest. Angel tries a right hook from the side, going for Mal's left ear. He blocks it with his left hand, then raises his left index finger and wags it a few times. Angel steps forward and to his left, then attempts to kick Mal in the back with a right reverse kick. But Mal turns in time and blocks it, foiling Angel's attempts to outflank him.
MAL: "Ain't no drag." [Increasingly frustrated, Angel closes in and throws a flurry of punches, all of which Mal blocks.] "Papa's got a brand new bag."
By going on offense, Angel left himself open for a counter-attack. Mal fires lightning-fast left and right jabs, eleven of them, in time to the guitar part in the song. Mal pauses for half-a-second, knocks Angel on his back with a left roundhouse kick just when the horn blare would occur, then goes down and performs a split before immediately rising to his feet.
MAL: Oh, I am good! After something like that, I really do almost feel like jumping back and kissing myself. Ha-ha-hah. I got rhythm. Who could ask for anything more?
Angel stands up and lands a right hook to Mal's face. He starts shuffling away from Angel, who slowly pursues.
ANGEL: You're mixing your song references.
MAL: I was trying to relate to you. Even when I'm blind, I can still tell you're a white boy. A big, tough Irish boar who's got too much pride and heart to know when to quit. You may not look it, but you fight like it. To be honest, you look Basque. [Angel lands a left jab to Mal's nose]
ANGEL: What's that supposed to mean? [Mal lands a left hook kick to Angel's right cheek]
MAL: Absolutely nothing. [Angel kicks Mal in the stomach with his right foot and punches his right eye with a left jab. Mal lands a right jab. Angel answers with a right hook. He notices his knuckles are bleeding. Must be a side effect from the potion, Angel thinks to himself.] But you fight like one of those big, orange-haired Hibernian giants. The gentle ones, who protected the people. I miss giants. You know what they died out? Not enough breeding. They never traveled. Stayed in the same cave or giant tree their whole lives. That's no way to find a mate.
Angel closes in and connects with a left cross and a right hook, then a right hook kick and a left roundhouse kick. Angel throws a left jab, but Mal ducks. While he's down, Mal picks up some sand in his left hand and tosses it backwards and to his left. He hears a few grains collide with the sword's blade. Angel realizes what Mal is up to. But as he threw the sand, Mal stuck his right leg out and swept Angel's legs, sending him to the ground. Mal races over to the sword, grabs it by its handle and pulls it out of the ground. Angel approaches, but stops fifteen feet away from Mal.
MAL: I can't kill you. So what would happen if I cut off your head? Would you be able to pick it up and put it back on? But how could I kill you blind-folded? You are far too good to allow that to happen. [tosses the sword to Angel, who grabs it out of the air]
ANGEL: Thanks for the compliment. But I'd like the chance to prove you right. [Tosses the sword back]
MAL: It is your sword. [tosses it back again]
ANGEL: But you were the one who brought it here. [tosses it back yet again]
MAL: I stole it. I must first earn the right to use your weapon. [tosses it back]
Angel is tiring of Mal's exaggerated chivalry. He knows Mal's generosity is just his way of saying "I'm not afraid of you," because that's what Angel was also expressing by repeatedly tossing the sword back. Right now, Angel just wants to kill Mal. He has four weapons to do it with. It was time to use them. Angel leaps at Mal and kicks him in the chest with a flying right kick. Mal staggers back. Angel swings the sword. Mal ducks. Angel gets him in the nose with his right knee, then with a right uppercut. Mal puts his hands up to fight. Angel swings for Mal's fingers. He pulls his hands behind his back to avoid the blade, then immediately tries a right jab. This time, he isn't the faster one. Angel expected this, and beats Mal to the punch with two left jabs and a right hook. He quickly swings the sword with his left hand. Mal does a backwards hand spring. Angel sends a right kick for Mal's face. Mal leaps thirty feet up and twenty feet back, landing on top of the arena wall.
ANGEL: Am I really this good? Am I so good that you have to run away from me?
MAL: Wrong lesson. I knew exactly where the wall was. [leaps thirty feet to his left and lands on another spot on the top of the wall] I did not need my eyes to find it. [leaps forty feet to his left and lands again on top] I cannot see you, but I can find you. You can see me, but you cannot find me.
ANGEL: You redefine the word pompous. You really do.
Mal leaps thirty feet to his left but misses the wall, falling behind it. Angel laughs, then realizes what Mal is up to. He hears Mal running around the outside of the arena. He's moving clockwise, faster and faster. Angel listens. He's running a lap about every 6 seconds. Angel guesses the size of the arena, does a quick calculation, and realizes that Mal's chugging along at about fifty miles per hour. Then he stops. Or, rather, the noise of his running stops. He was going so fast, Angel can't pinpoint the spot where he stopped. Angel moves to the center of the arena, so he's seventy five feet from every spot on the wall, minimizing Mal's ability to surprise him. Angel stands still, and thinks he hears a faint rustling. Mal must be flush to the outside of the wall, moving around like a spider. Angel grips his sword with both hands and bends his knees. Suddenly the silence is broken by what sounds like a large firecracker exploding to Angel's left, at nine o'clock. He turns, realizes it's a diversion, then looks to his right, at three o'clock. When the explosion occurred, Mal climbed up the wall and leaped at Angel from behind, at six o'clock. He took off thirty feet above Angel and seventy five feet behind him, soared up to forty five feet about Angel, then swooped down, all while Angel looked to his left, then looked to his right. Mal sends his feet into Angel's back, landing on top of Angel while driving his face into the sand. Angel's back is very sore, but he held on to the sword with his right hand, and swings it behind him and upwards. The blade goes between Mal's legs and towards his groin. Mal leaps up and does a back flip. Angel stands. He bends his back and puts his left hand to his spine, since it doesn't feel quite right.
MAL: To win, you must have a sense of where you are.
ANGEL: I didn't know you were a Bill Bradley fan?
MAL: [looks confused. He's not familiar with the bestselling book.] Walt Frazier! Saw him at the Garden against Oscar Robertson. Is the Garden still there?
ANGEL: And on top of everything else, you're a Knicks fan. Figured a guy like you would go for the winners.
Angel charges Mal. He charges Angel. Angel ducks Mal's left jab, drives the sword's pommel into his right eye, then lands a left jab and a right hook.
MAL: You must be a Lakers' man.
ANGEL: Kings. [lands a right cross]
MAL: Kansas City?
ANGEL: What? [ducks under Mal's right hook kick and lands and left jab] How long have you been away? I meant the hockey team. Rangers aren't bad. But I was a Red Wings fan in the old days, pre-expansion.
MAL: I like hockey. [lands left hook, due to Angel's surprise] Outdoors. Cloudy afternoon. Big pond. No boards. The indoor variety is graceless, and violent.
ANGEL: You don't like violence!?
Angel throws a right roundhouse kick, which Mal blocks. But Angel connects with the back of his left hand and a right hook.
MAL: I like nothing poorly done. [misses with a right jab, but connects with a left roundhouse kick] You cannot have a good fight on skates.
ANGEL: Not if you only use your fists. [kicks Mal in the face with his right foot] But if you use the skates, it's a whole different matter.
MAL: True. But that would be a very short fight. Say, why hasn't THIS been a short fight? I AM blind!
ANGEL: Because you won't shut up.
Angel raises the sword and swings it downwards. Mal reaches both hands up and grabs Angel's hands, stopping the sword. Angel head-butts him in the nose, then kicks him in the chin with his right foot before landing a right hook. Angel lands a left cross and throws a right roundhouse kick, which Mal blocks. He hits Angel in the jaw with a right jab. Angel responds with a left jab, left hook, right cross, left kick to the stomach, and right roundhouse to Mal's nose. While Mal is staggered, Angel tries his luck with a quick sword slash for his neck. Mal kicks the sword out of Angel's hands and high up into the air with his right foot. Angel looks up. Mal turns around and knocks him on his back with a left reverse kick to the chest. Mal turns back around, listens for the falling sword, reaches his left hand out and grabs the sword's pommel when it is four feet off the ground. Angel stands up and sees Mal with his weapon. He stops ten feet in front of Mal.
MAL: I think I have now earned the right to use your weapon. [stabs the sword into the sand in the middle of the ring.] But I do not need it.
Mal leaps at Angel and knocks him down. Angel pushes Mal off of him and they both stand up. Angel avoids Mal's right roundhouse kick and moves away from his leaping left kick. When Mal charges again and throws a left cross, Angel blocks the punch, grabs Mal's left arm with his right arm and tosses Mal over his shoulder. Mal stands and turns around to face Angel. Angel moves behind Mal and kicks him in the back. Mal turns and throws a left hook. Angel reaches across his body to block it with his left hand. At the same time, his sends his right fist towards Mal's chest. When the stake pops out, its point is three inches from Mal's chest and heading straight for his heart. When the point is one inch from his skin, Mal grabs the stake with his right hand, rips it off of Angel's wrist, reaches across Angel's body and stabs it into Angel's side, just above his right hip. Mal makes sure to get the stake all the way under Angel's skin, so he'll have to reach inside to pull it out. Angel grimaces and lands a right cross, then steps forward and connects with a left jab. He can see that he's done a good bit of damage to Mal's face. Mal lands a right jab. Angel lands right and left crosses. Mal lands a left hook. Angel pounds his face with a left jab and a right uppercut. Mal connects with a right cross. Angel steps back, realizing that he won't be able to last long taking one punch for every two that he lands. Mal's punches are too powerful.
Mal throws a straight left kick. Angel blocks it. He also blocks Mal's right hook hook. Angel throws a right hook. When that's blocked. He sends his left fist for Mal's heart. Mal blocks the fist with his right palm. Angel struggles to push it closer to Mal's skin. But he's too strong. So Angel lets the stake shoot out. It stabs through Mal's right palm and gets within two inches of his skin. At least Angel hurt him. Mal wraps his right hand around Angel's left fist, pretending not to notice the stake sticking through his hand, and slowly squeezes. Angel lands two right hooks. Mal lands a left hook. Finally, Angel's eyes water as Mal hears the bones crack. Mal reaches out his left hand, ripping the device off of Angel's left wrist. Angel lands a right hook before grabbing his injured left hand. Mal rips the stake out of his right hand. He squeezes his right fist and drinks the blood as it drips down.
ANGEL: You and your precious blood.
MAL: You are your precious eyes. Perhaps I should rip them out.
Mal runs at Angel and does a cartwheel kick. Angel moves to his left and avoids it, then punches Mal in the back. Mal turns and throws a left jab. Angel grabs Mal's left wrist with his right hand. Mal steps forward, grabs Angel's neck and picks him up, tossing Angel a few feet in the air. He kicks Angel in the chest with a left roundhouse when he's on his way down. Mal pushes Angel against the wall, then lands six body blows to Angel's ribs. Angel realizes the eye remark was a feint. He blocks the next two body punches and pushes Mal ten feet back. Angel charges out, and Mal retreats. Then Mal suddenly attacks, trying to catch Angel off-guard. He doesn't. Angel trips Mal up and throws him through the air. Mal stands up six feet in front of the wall. Angel puts his shoulder into Mal's back and tries to drive his face into the stone. Mal puts his hands out to prevent this. Angel lands three punches to Mal's back. When he turns around, Angel gives him a left kick to the stomach and a right hook to the left eye. Mal grabs Angel's arms and head-butts him in the face. It hurts a lot worse than most head butts. Mal leaps away from the wall and over Angel's head.
MAL: Now all you have left is that stake.
ANGEL: And my fists. And my feet. I'm a patient man. I could spent all day pounding on you before I go for the kill.
MAL: You do not want to do that.
Angel throws a left jab. Mal lowers his head, allowing the blow to strike his forehead. Angel pulls his left hand back in pain. Mal lands two right jabs, takes Angel's right hook, and knocks Angel down with a left hook. Angel stands up. His right knuckles are swollen and bleeding, and his left hand feels sort of broken. Mal throws a right hook kick. Angel moves to his left and avoids it. He tries a right kick. Mal grabs Angel's right foot and spins him through the air. Angel gets up. Mal stands there, waiting for Angel, rocking his head from side-to-side and singing.
MAL: "Don't dece-e-e-e-eive me.
Please don't le-e-e-e-eave me.
What would I do, without you, to see me through?
What would I do-o-o?
Say I wanna know-o-oh.
What would I do-o-o-o-o?
Where would I go-o-o-oh?"
Angel looks confused as he walks towards Mal, who senses Angel's presence, stops singing, and puts his hands in front of his face. Angel lands two right kicks to Mal's ribs. Mal blocks a left roundhouse kick, lands two right jabs, a left hook and a right roundhouse kick, knocking Angel down.
MAL: It's Ray Charles, fool! Where have YOU been? Ain't you familiar with the classics?
ANGEL: You mean Mozart? Haydn? [lands a very painful left jab, which Mal wasn't expecting]
MAL: Not quite my style. [Angel blocks his left cross]
ANGEL: You don't say? [lands a somewhat less painful right cross]
MAL: I prefer Bach, Schumann. [lands one right jab. Angel blocks the other one] Maybe a little Mahler. Now Gustav had soul. [Takes Angel's right kick. Lands a left kick, knocking Angel down] I believe I produced the only demon performance of the Symphony of a Thousand. With a thousand demons. Koshins. Gualnids. Selipons. The pitch-perfect, musically-gifted species.
Mal grabs Angel and body slams him. As Angel gets up, Mal swings his right leg and kicks Angel in the lower back, bringing back the pain he felt when Mal landed on him earlier in the fight. Angel avoids Mal's wild left cross and lands a right jab, which he fears hurt himself more than Mal.
MAL: You should hear Selipons sing "Tristan und Isolde." A thing of beauty. Brought tears to my eyes. Made me overlook the ridiculous doomed love, sex equals death, curse-by-orgasm story. You need some really great songs to make me take that concept seriously. Know what I mean? [Angel reaches for his stake. It's gone.] Looking for this?
Mal holds it up. When he grabbed Angel to throw him, he swiped his stake. Now he tosses it in Angel's direction. Angel grabs it, then misses with a right punch. Mal misses with a left punch. Angel holds the stake in his right hand. He's too badly hurt to go on much longer. He knows he must finish this quickly. Angel throws a left jab. Mal dodges the blow and responds with a right jab. This is the opening Angel was looking for. He moves his head to the left, avoids the punch, puts his right foot forward, stepping past Mal and to his right, then trying to stake Mal in the back with a right backhand thrust. Mal doesn't have time to turn around. His momentum is moving forward with the right jab his is throwing. But as Angel as Angel stabs, Mal casually pulls his left hand behind his back and grabs the stake. Angel puts his left hand behind the stake in order to drive it home. Mal reaches his right hand back and grabs Angel's throat. Then he brings his left foot back, sweeping Angel's legs. As Angel falls and Mal turns around, he rips the stake out of Angel's hand. Angel looks up as sees this. Mal takes a step back so Angel can't kick him while he's down. Mal twirls the stake in his left hand. Angel climbs to his feet, feeling like a bull who's about to be finished off by the matador. Mal moves around, taking small steps, trying to find Angel. Angel throws a right kick when Mal is not looking at him. Mal grabs his foot and pushes it rightward, turning Angel around. Mal stakes him in the back. Angel can see the point protruding out of his chest. Mal spins Angel back around and decks him with a left cross. Having devastatingly proved his point, Mal takes off the blindfold and lets it flutter down onto Angel's body while he makes sure the cross pierced Angel's heart.
MAL: Good. I didn't miss.
Mal walks towards the wall, climbs up and leaves. Angel stands and runs after him. When he is twenty five feet from the wall, ten demons leap into the arena from all sides. They are six-and-a-half feet tall, with big red chests, arms and heads, plus skinny, insect-like black legs and black backs, as well as two black foot-high horns on top of their head which point upwards, and one six inch-long black horn on their forehead points outward. In their right hands they carry green hooks which appear to be made of bone. A foot-long gray spike shoots out of the back of their left hands. Angel only has to get by two of them to make it to the wall. But that looks difficult without a weapon, especially considering his injuries. Angel turns around and sees his sword in the center of the arena. He runs back, picks it up and prepares to fight as the demons surround him.
NEXT: Wesley seeks help from Wolfram & Hart. The Hellmouth goes haywire. And Buffy gets her Pyrrhic victory over Seth.