On being chipped

[deadpoet]

Hello, I've got a idea. Rather than wait all those episodes for those government bastards to play around with my head, how about you go and leave me unchipped. You get the big bad me, I get to do whatever I like without a bloody killer migraine whenever I find myself feeling a little peckish. Everybody wins. Maybe not the blokes that get killed, but I can't say I really give a damn about them.

Better yet, let's go a bit before that where I still have that nice shiny ring. That way when you send me into that personal hell with two slayers, I don't find myself filling a Hoover within a week.

Comments

[deadpoet]

So you're another one of her bloody sidekicks. Well, if she's that hard up for expanding her scoobie gang, then there's clearly no cause for worry.

[abidinglaw]

Terribly sorry, but...

You lost me at 'gooby slang.'

[It's all gobbledegook to him.]

[deadpoet]

Hiding behind the slayer and you're not even in her gang. Now that's just bloody beautiful.

[abidinglaw]

Oh, Buffy's here is she? Buffy? Buffy!

[He glances around himself as though truly expecting to see her standing somewhere, as though he'd somehow missed her. He even goes to far as to lean up onto his tip-toes and put his hand to his brow. The action positively drips with sarcasm.]

No, no sign of her. I seem to be here all by myself with a barking mad -- what, goblin or somesuch? All alone and hiding. Here out in the open.

[deadpoet]

Well, don't you think you're bloody clever. Tell you what. Save the lip for now. Once we're in a place where I can cut loose a little, then you can go and play tough. It'll make for a real laugh. For me, anyway. You'll be a bit busy lying on the floor bleeding out.

[abidinglaw]

What I think of myself is of no matter. You would be better off concerning yourself with what I know of you.

Vampire.

[He takes a brief, contemplative pause.]

In fact, I do believe I would hold a goblin in higher regard.

[deadpoet]

Well, you've gone and found me out. Should I be impressed? Because the way I see it, you've got yourself three or four ways you can kill me. I can think of hundreds of ways I could put you out of my misery. [He pauses a moment, decided to light up a cigarette.] That said, you wouldn't know a goblin from your grandmother.

[abidinglaw]

Be careful. You would be ill advised to cross my grandmother.

I would not wish her on Davy Jones, let alone you.

[deadpoet]

[This is a look of, "Are you really trying to prop your grandmother up as intimidating?"]