“What did you call me?”
“You heard me, you washed up, pathetic, Billy Idol wannabe.”
Spike sucked a deep breath thru gritted teeth and screamed in frustration. “Aaargh! If only those bloody soldiers hadn’t put this chip in my head! I’d—” He stopped suddenly, and a puzzled look crossed his face. He leaned closer to the tall man and sniffed. He frowned, stepped forward, and sniffed again.
“It’s called soap,” the man said, ticking a box on his clipboard. “Try it some time!”
“You’re not human.”
“Of course I’m not!”
“Of course you’re not,” Spike echoed, with a ferocious grin.