Categories > TV > Buffy the Vampire Slayer > BUFFY Meets STAR TREK
- Traders' World -
--The Wanderer--
18
Somewhere in the West:
As he wandered through the streets of Traders' World, Spike happened upon a stall where a small scaly fellow was taking an odd, twisted kind of cigarette from the stall-keeper and lighting it eagerly.
At the stage he was at, he didn't care what type of cig it was as long as he could smoke it. Licking his lips with anticipation, he headed over to get one for himself, but halfway there he caught a whiff of the stuff and turned right around. Sure he needed a smoke, but there was no way he was smoking something that smelt like a Cow turd.
As he turned, the platinum-haired vamp caught sight of something else of interest. A guy was trying to get into a bar. The leather-skinned doorman turned him away, saying: "We don't serve Terrans here!"
"But I'm the tactical advisor to DaiMon Brakk!" the man explained quickly.
"I don't give a Vulcan's EAR who you are, human. You are NOT welcome HERE!" The crocodile-skinned doorman shoved the smaller man out into the street where he fell, kicking up a cloud of powdery dust. The man got to his feet unsteadily. Crowds of pedestrians soon surrounded him as they passed by in the street. From within this tangle of bodies came a shrill cry and, as the crowds thinned, the human could be seen collapsing to his knees; clutching an open knife-wound beneath his ribs. The man gargled blood from his mouth before he gave up the fight for life and dropped to the dirt.
Spike let out a surprised "Huh" as he watched the man get slaughtered in the road. Damn dangerous place. For humans.
He found the inner rage within himself and drew on it to bring out his demon face. His teeth formed fangs and his forehead grew heavy. The vampire came out in him.
He pulled his hood back in safety and decided to go check out this bar across the street. As he approached, Spike noticed a couple of weirdoes drag the body away and the offending doorman saying to a passer-by who he was talking to: "No awards for guessing what's on the menu at Gorlon's today!"
They laughed.
Spike reached the door and the burly bouncer stopped him. "What species are YOU?"
"I'm a /vampire/, mate. Did I mention I hate humans?"
"I've never heard of your kind. Where are you from?"
Eager to get inside and get rat-arsed, he replied: "England."
"England? Isn't that in the Grultaan sector?"
Just go with it "Err...yeah, that's right." He made a move to enter the bar, but the doorman put a large hand against his chest and leaned in close. His vile, hot breath smelt rotten even to Spike.
"You're a long way from home, Vam-Pire. What, may I ask, brings you to our little corner of the galaxy?"
Spike gave him his most threatening look. "Well, now. I'd say that was my business. Besides, I'm gagging for a drink so, if you don't mind, I'll be going in. Unless you want me to take my custom elsewhere?"
The alien's attitude reversed instantly. "Certainly not, my friend. Enter, enter, and enjoy the dancing girls!"
"Strippers, eh?" Spike said with a huge and razor-sharp grin. "I like the sound of that."
With a deep breath of anticipation, he stepped through the small entranceway of the public house. Sure enough, the dancing girls were strippers. And they were already stripped.
On a central stage, and atop numerous podiums around the bar, a group of naked erotic dancers were doing their thing with gusto. Completely stark naked. But Spike's keen smile faded when he saw them.
They all appeared to be alike barring one. For the most part, the young women were green. Green faces, green breasts, green legs, and green... well... green everything. And their hair was thick and black. ALL their hair. They looked like She-Hulks.
And, as for the other one, she was like nothing he'd ever seen before. All fur, claws, and whiskers. A big, furry cat-woman. With a big, furry cat pussy. Not quite to Spike's taste.
The landlord too was green like the strippers. Only he was a male, and was fully clothed - much to Spike's relief.
"What'll it be?" the man asked him with little cheer.
Maybe he'd have Bourbon. Yeah, that sounded good. "I'll have the hair of the Hell-Beast that bit me!" he said enthusiastically.
The Orion barman replied with a blank stare.
Spike sighed. "Just gimme a beer."
--The Wanderer--
18
Somewhere in the West:
As he wandered through the streets of Traders' World, Spike happened upon a stall where a small scaly fellow was taking an odd, twisted kind of cigarette from the stall-keeper and lighting it eagerly.
At the stage he was at, he didn't care what type of cig it was as long as he could smoke it. Licking his lips with anticipation, he headed over to get one for himself, but halfway there he caught a whiff of the stuff and turned right around. Sure he needed a smoke, but there was no way he was smoking something that smelt like a Cow turd.
As he turned, the platinum-haired vamp caught sight of something else of interest. A guy was trying to get into a bar. The leather-skinned doorman turned him away, saying: "We don't serve Terrans here!"
"But I'm the tactical advisor to DaiMon Brakk!" the man explained quickly.
"I don't give a Vulcan's EAR who you are, human. You are NOT welcome HERE!" The crocodile-skinned doorman shoved the smaller man out into the street where he fell, kicking up a cloud of powdery dust. The man got to his feet unsteadily. Crowds of pedestrians soon surrounded him as they passed by in the street. From within this tangle of bodies came a shrill cry and, as the crowds thinned, the human could be seen collapsing to his knees; clutching an open knife-wound beneath his ribs. The man gargled blood from his mouth before he gave up the fight for life and dropped to the dirt.
Spike let out a surprised "Huh" as he watched the man get slaughtered in the road. Damn dangerous place. For humans.
He found the inner rage within himself and drew on it to bring out his demon face. His teeth formed fangs and his forehead grew heavy. The vampire came out in him.
He pulled his hood back in safety and decided to go check out this bar across the street. As he approached, Spike noticed a couple of weirdoes drag the body away and the offending doorman saying to a passer-by who he was talking to: "No awards for guessing what's on the menu at Gorlon's today!"
They laughed.
Spike reached the door and the burly bouncer stopped him. "What species are YOU?"
"I'm a /vampire/, mate. Did I mention I hate humans?"
"I've never heard of your kind. Where are you from?"
Eager to get inside and get rat-arsed, he replied: "England."
"England? Isn't that in the Grultaan sector?"
Just go with it "Err...yeah, that's right." He made a move to enter the bar, but the doorman put a large hand against his chest and leaned in close. His vile, hot breath smelt rotten even to Spike.
"You're a long way from home, Vam-Pire. What, may I ask, brings you to our little corner of the galaxy?"
Spike gave him his most threatening look. "Well, now. I'd say that was my business. Besides, I'm gagging for a drink so, if you don't mind, I'll be going in. Unless you want me to take my custom elsewhere?"
The alien's attitude reversed instantly. "Certainly not, my friend. Enter, enter, and enjoy the dancing girls!"
"Strippers, eh?" Spike said with a huge and razor-sharp grin. "I like the sound of that."
With a deep breath of anticipation, he stepped through the small entranceway of the public house. Sure enough, the dancing girls were strippers. And they were already stripped.
On a central stage, and atop numerous podiums around the bar, a group of naked erotic dancers were doing their thing with gusto. Completely stark naked. But Spike's keen smile faded when he saw them.
They all appeared to be alike barring one. For the most part, the young women were green. Green faces, green breasts, green legs, and green... well... green everything. And their hair was thick and black. ALL their hair. They looked like She-Hulks.
And, as for the other one, she was like nothing he'd ever seen before. All fur, claws, and whiskers. A big, furry cat-woman. With a big, furry cat pussy. Not quite to Spike's taste.
The landlord too was green like the strippers. Only he was a male, and was fully clothed - much to Spike's relief.
"What'll it be?" the man asked him with little cheer.
Maybe he'd have Bourbon. Yeah, that sounded good. "I'll have the hair of the Hell-Beast that bit me!" he said enthusiastically.
The Orion barman replied with a blank stare.
Spike sighed. "Just gimme a beer."
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