It was while emptying the second bottle of Everclear he'd nicked earlier from the nearest 7-11 and watching the sunrise traffic whizz past on the Interstate from within the deep shadows beneath the Chavez Avenue overpass, that Spike realized that on his way out, his boots had punted a small human skull, freeing a handful of sad little braids adorned with golden brown teddy-bear shaped beads— but that might have been the Everclear talking.
Woozily the vampire lifted one foot and squinting, inspected the lugged sole of his left Doc Martin before toppling over backwards in an alcohol-fueled blackout
A handful of little golden brown beads had smiled back at Spike, tiny top hats and all.
Shaking his maracas while singing his electronic heart out, Guillermo set one dancing foot onto the Interstate after the other, beginning his majestic journey towards the soft glow of city lights on the early morning horizon.